The Fate Date (Glengarry Curse #1)

26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Sabrina

“ I don’t feel up to another day of readings,” Marie whined on the phone.

Sabrina sat down on the bed and tried to keep the disillusion out of her voice. “Perhaps if you have a nap this morning, you might be feeling better this afternoon?”

“Hmmm, I can’t tell, my energy is blocked.”

“Marie, I’m feeling a bit upset because this was something we agreed to weeks ago.” The free readings tactic had been wildly effective. Sabrina had even taken on extra hours all week to give Marie a break before the busy weekend. She knew it was a lot, but their livelihood depended on it.

“I know, I feel terrible, Sabrina.” She sounded nothing of the sort. “I’ll have to take a sick day though.” Frustrated tears pricked at Sabrina’s eyes. This was her fault. Gavin had been harping on about “organizational risk” during the car ride the other day, and she hadn’t heeded his advice because she hadn’t wanted to confront her mother’s oldest friend.

“Alright. Thanks for letting me know,” she said hollowly, before ending the call.

She texted Tania to let her know about the situation and sent a message to Véro to see if she might be willing to work at the shop last minute. It was the last day of the retreat, but she didn’t want Gavin to feel rushed to leave given how important it was .

As if her thoughts had summoned him, she heard his footsteps on the porch and she wiped her face and nose. It was fruitless though.

“What’s wrong?” His grumpy brow soothed her. She knew he’d be in her court, even if it was within his rights to pull an “I told you so”.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry, shop issues.” He relaxed with that statement; at least, the crease in his forehead was somewhat less pronounced. “How does your presentation look?”

“What sort of shop issues?”

Sabrina hid her toes under her sweater dress. “I need to have a tough conversation with Marie.” Her bottom lip started to wobble before she could get a handle on it.

He crossed the cabin to wrap his arms around her. “It’s not an easy part of the job.” She liked that he didn’t sugarcoat it.

“She bailed again. I’m trying to get a hold of Véro to see if she might be able to help us, but there will be no one to do readings today.”

He stood up and, altogether too quickly, said, “We should go. Right now.”

She laughed and sniffed her nose. “It’s fine, today is about you and your presentation. If we can leave a little earlier that would be great, but—”

“I’ll call us a cab. We can leave right after breakfast.”

“Gavin, stop. It’s one day of sales—”

“I’ve decided not to present, so this works out perfectly,” he said, with a smile that looked out of place given the words coming out of his mouth.

“Sorry, what?” That’s what this whole weekend, this whole fake relationship had been about. “What about the job? The raise? The bonus?”

He shook his head and started packing his stuff—if packing was the right word. He stuffed his clothes into his suitcase, his perfectly pressed shirts balled into a wrinkled mess. “Seeing how passionate you are about your job has shown me that I’ve never felt like that about my work. I want to pursue something that inspires me like you do. ”

Sabrina was confused, and a little hurt that he’d come to this decision without talking to her first. She’d been hoping for that signing bonus as start-up funds for her planner. Of course, she wouldn’t want Gavin to do something that would make him unhappy, but she was surprised that he hadn’t taken her into consideration.

“Gavin, are you sure, it’s a big decision…”

He came up and gave her a kiss, but it did little to assuage the niggling doubts worming into her head. She was reading too much into this. Her intuition was probably jumbled because of Marie.

“I’ve never felt more certain about anything in my life,” he said.

Gavin changed quickly, his movements still erratic, like someone had super-dosed his morning cup of coffee. “Ready?” He grabbed her hand, and practically dragged her and her suitcase across the wet leaf-laden lawn to the dining hall.

Sabrina lined up for the buffet, but noticed he didn’t follow her. Instead, as most of the retreat attendees had assembled, he crossed to the other side of the room and stood up on a chair.

“If I can have your attention.” The crowd quieted. “I wanted to advise Ian, Bojana, and our esteemed board members that there will be a slight change to today’s proceedings. I’ve decided not to present as a candidate for the CFO position, but I look forward to working with the qualified nominee that the board selects.”

Short, succinct, and altogether too weird for her to handle. Sabrina tried to catch his eye over the fruit dangling from the tongs she was holding. His gaze searched the crowd, but he avoided hers. Confused whispers buzzed in the background. Locking in on Alfred, Gavin stalked over to where he was seated with Effie in the corner of the room. His stride was so purposeful he was almost menacing. Even steel-backed Effie stood up and left the dining room.

Dread bunched in Sabrina’s stomach, and she was terrified of what it meant. She’d experienced this sort of premonition before, a sudden awareness of an imminent threat. Most recently, the morning her mother died. Sabrina had awoken, sweat pooling on the sides of her head, and rushed to the hospice moments before her mother’s passing. Everyone had access to the psychic realm if they knew how to listen for the signals.

She sat at the same table they’d used both mornings for breakfast and waited for Gavin to join her. His mouth was set in a hard line as he took a seat across from her, pretending like everyone wasn’t staring at him.

“You didn’t grab a pastry,” Gavin remarked at her plate. She didn’t even know what she’d grabbed. She waited for him to look up at her.

“What’s really going on, Gavin?”

His head tilted and lips pursed, and she could see the resignation there.

“Sabrina, there’s something I should tell you.” His voice was raspy, like his vocal cords were trying to hold on to the words. “The night at the bar, a week ago…” He stopped again, his face pained. “In the car, I said some things to Gilbert I regret…” His hands went to his hair, tugging at it, trying to expunge a memory through the follicles. What was going on? She wanted to squeeze the truth out of him like the last squish of toothpaste.

Unfortunately, like some sort of Saturn-Plutonian conjunction, her wish came out loud and clear—only through the speakers in the dining room. It was an odd phenomenon to see Gavin sitting across from her, lips open, but unmoving—despite the fact his voice reverberated in the room.

“We’re not really dating…It’s a business arrangement…like a sex thing…we’re…fucking…She’s attending the corporate retreat next weekend as my date…I thought she could help me. The board are idiots—they care more about feelings than tangible results. I can barely stand the woman. She’s constantly late, unable to make a decision to save her life, and dresses like a fairy grandmother. She’s a naive, delusional, pushover, who I wouldn’t date if my life depended on it. It’s for the money. ”

Her head was weightless, like all the blood had drained from her extremities, coursing towards her core to protect her vital organs, namely her heart. She watched him, as the hateful words pelted her. He looked guilty. But not surprised.

He sat frozen for a moment, like he was praying this wasn’t happening, that this was some horrible nightmare. His hands came out to grab hers. His touch felt foreign, the same calloused hands without the usual flutterings that came with it. She snatched hers back.

Alfred came over to their table. “I swear I deleted the recording, man—it wasn’t me who played it.”

Sabrina looked around. Everyone was staring. Their scrutiny—pity mixed with disappointment—was an all too familiar sight. Like the customers who’d given her the side-eye when she handed out free cat stickers way too enthusiastically with a purchase. Like the look on her prof’s face after she’d failed her midterm following her mom’s diagnosis. Like every time Marie said the words “That’s not what Eugenia would have wanted”. Like the night she’d met Gavin. People she considered friends were now looking at her like she was a fake. A fraud. And she was. All this was.

She stood and bolted out of the room into the lobby, desperate to escape the humiliation, and almost barrelled over poor Sue. She heard Gavin come up behind her, trying to grab at her hand which she ripped away. But before he could say anything, Effie walked over from where she had been seated on one of the big plush couches—pocketing her phone in her purse.

She looked at Gavin and said, “That’s for dropping a fern on my head, asshole.” Turning to Sabrina, her face gentled in a modicum of sympathy. “Sorry, no hard feelings, better to know what kind of a man he is now though.” And with a flip of her hair, Effie rejoined the breakfast group, feigning obliviousness as to what had transpired.

“Sabrina, please let me explain.”

She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. “Get us a cab, Gavin.”