Finding Isadora(28)

The street was lined with cars, so he double parked. “Nicer than your parents’.”

Was he accusing me of being too materialistic? “It’s only a studio flat. It allows animals. And I can walk to work.”

“It wasn’t a criticism.”

“Oh. No, of course not. Sorry. And thanks for the ride. And for helping Jimmy Lee.” I reached for the door handle. “And I’m sorry for acting so … weird. I’m normally pretty, uh, normal.” Could I sound any more idiotic? “I guess I’m just worried about Jimmy Lee.”

I opened the door and the roof light came on promptly this time. As I was about to get out, Gabriel’s voice stopped me. “Weird,” he said reflectively. “Yeah, I guess I’ve been acting kind of weird, too. Sorry.”

When I turned toward him I caught one of those intense, unreadable expressions on his face. Then he shrugged and said, more briskly, “I hope you make it to court tomorrow. It’ll help Jimmy Lee’s chances.”

“I’ll be there.”

The intensity had gone and he looked tired. And drained, with lines of strain around his eyes. I had the crazy impulse to lift a hand and touch his cheek. Instead I cleared my throat and said, “Thanks, Gabriel.”

“Welcome, Isadora.”

Outside the car, the night air was fresh and bracing, but I felt flushed and muddled as I hurried into the building. Inside my apartment I locked the door and dropped my bag on the floor. Then I sank down beside it, leaning my back against the door, dealing automatically with Pogo’s exuberant welcome-home kisses.

Boy, was I in deep trouble. There was no denying it now. My feelings weren’t one-night nervous chemistry, and familiarity only made them stronger. I was seriously—but seriously—attracted to Richard’s father. Attracted in a gut-level, irresistible way I’d never experienced before.

And it made absolutely no sense. Even if Gabriel hadn’t been Richard’s father, the man was everything I didn’t want.

Well, I had no particular argument with striking good looks, sexual magnetism, and a charismatic personality. But other than those trivial qualities, everything about him was wrong, in terms of my values and priorities in life. Whereas everything about Richard was right.

I hugged Pogo, then hauled myself to my feet and took him out for a quick pit stop.

Back inside, I converted my second-hand couch into a bed. My studio flat and garage sale furniture were part of my plan to attain financial security. My job paid well, and Richard was an upwardly mobile corporate lawyer, drawing an excellent salary already. Whereas Gabriel took cases pro bono, and even when he did charge his clients and they paid up, it would likely be in pitifully small payments over months and months. The same way the parents of Grace’s special needs kids paid her.

Chances were, Richard and I would end up supporting not only my folks in their old age, but also his father. Though it was hard to conceive of Gabriel as a dependent old man. He was so dynamic, so smart and talented…

Making up a bed was not the best activity to be engaged in when thinking of Gabriel DeLuca. I’d just bet he’d be talented in bed. And those were not images I should allow into my mind.

I went into the bathroom and washed my face, then rubbed in some lotion.

My plan called for a mate I could grow old with. That was another thing in Richard’s favor. Although he was mature, he was younger than I. I stood a decent chance of not being widowed. Gabriel was much older. If he and I… But of course Gabriel and I would never be a couple.

My mind spun on, regardless, like a hamster on a wheel that can’t slow its momentum. There were the issues of marriage and fidelity. No doubt Gabriel, like my parents, viewed those notions as archaic and absurd. I’d just bet he believed in sex, though. He was so darned sexy, he had to believe in sex. Probably the more women the better. Definitely not fidelity. He’d be a free-love guy, like my parents. A man like that would drive me insane.

And then there was my strong desire for children, a desire Richard shared. Whereas Gabriel had already raised—or, rather, opted out of raising—a child.

I stared at my reflection. Messy hair, a face that was nothing special, foamy mouth with a toothbrush sticking out of it. Not exactly the stuff of a sexy man’s fantasies.

My absurd attraction to Gabriel was almost certainly one-sided. Yes, I’d seen a disturbing spark in his eyes on more than one occasion, but the most it could possibly be was a temporary case of lust brought on by bare shoulders and unbra’ed breasts. A man like him must have dozens of women to choose from. Sexy, intelligent women. To him I was a kid. My lapses into childish behavior would have confirmed it. Plus, I wasn’t beautiful, not brilliant, nor exciting, nor particularly sexy. I was no more hot than Richard.

Richard. My fiancé. The man I loved. I groaned and dragged myself off to bed. Why was I going through this stupid exercise of disqualifying Gabriel as if he was some sort of contender for my affection? Richard was the man I’d chosen to spend the rest of my life with.

Gabriel was … a minor annoyance.

No, he was a test. With any luck, Richard and I would be married for more than fifty years. In that time, each of us would certainly be attracted to other people. Gabriel was a heaven-sent opportunity for me to learn how to resist that attraction. Starting tomorrow, when I saw him in court.

As I clicked off the light, I realized I’d spent the last half hour fussing about Gabriel DeLuca and hadn’t spared a thought for my poor dad, spending this night in jail and facing an uncertain future.