Reflected in You(25)

I think I'm the one doing it for him now.


It's pretty hot with us, you know? But his ex has some kind of hold on him.


He says it's guilt, but that doesn't explain his brunette fascination."


"It explains why you lost it and hit him - her being around again is eating at you.


And he still won't tell you what's going on.


Does that sound healthy to you?" It wasn't.


I knew that.


I hated it.


"We saw Dr.


Petersen last night."


His brows rose.


"How'd that go?" "He didn't tell us to run far, far away from each other as fast as we can."


"And if he does? Will you listen?" "I'm not bailing when things get rough this time.


Seriously, Cary" - I held his gaze - "am I really all that far ahead if I can't take any waves?" "Baby girl, Cross is a tsunami."


"Ha!" I smiled, unable to help it.


Cary could get me to smile through tears.


"To tell you the truth, if I don't work this out with Gideon, I have doubts I'll work it out with anyone."


"That's your shitty self-esteem talking."


"He knows what I'm carrying around in me."


"All right."


My brows shot up.


"All right?" That was too easy.


"I'm not sold.


But I'll deal."


He grabbed my hand.


"Come on.


Let's get your hair done."


I smiled, grateful.


"You're the best."


He bumped his hip into mine.


"And I won't let you forget it."



Chapter 5


"As far as death traps go," Cary said, "this one's pretty swank."


I shook my head as I preceded him into the main cabin of Gideon's private jet.


"You are not going to die.


Flying is safer than driving."


"And you don't think the airline industry paid for the compilation of those statistics?" Pausing to smack him in the shoulder with a laugh, I glanced at the amazingly opulent interior and felt more than a little awe.


I'd seen my share of private planes over the years, but as usual, Gideon went to lengths to which few could afford to go.


The cabin was spacious, with a wide center aisle.


The underlying palette was neutral with accents of chocolate brown and ice blue.


Deep, swiveling bucket seats with tables were positioned on the left, while a sectional sofa sat on the right.


Each chair had a private entertainment console beside it.


I knew a bedroom would be found at the back of the plane and a luxurious bathroom or two.


A male flight attendant took my duffel bag and Cary's, then gestured for us to take a seat at one of the groupings of chairs that had a table.


"Mr.


Cross is expected within the next ten minutes," he said.


"In the meantime, can I serve you something to drink?" "Water for me, please."


I glanced at my watch.


It was just past seven thirty.


"Bloody Mary," Cary ordered, "if you've got it."


The steward smiled.


"We've got everything."


Cary caught my look.


"What? I haven't had dinner.


The tomato juice will hold me over until we eat, and the alcohol will help the Dramamine kick in faster."


"I didn't say anything," I protested.


I turned to look out the window at the evening sky, and my thoughts settled on Gideon, as usual.


He'd been quiet all day, starting with when he'd woken up.


The ride to work had been made in silence, and when my day ended at five, he'd called just long enough to tell me that Angus would take me home alone, then drive me and Cary to the airport where he'd meet us.


I opted to walk home instead, since I hadn't hit the gym the night before and didn't have time to work out prior to the flight.


Angus had cautioned that Gideon wouldn't like me refusing the ride, even though I'd done it politely and with good reason.


I think Angus thought I was still upset with him for giving Corinne a ride, which I kind of was.


I was sorry to say that a tiny part of me hoped he'd feel bad about it.


A bigger part of me hated that I could be that petty.


As I'd walked through Central Park, taking a meandering path through tall trees, I had determined that I wasn't going to be small over a guy.


Not even Gideon.


I wasn't going to let my frustration with him get in the way of having a good time in Vegas with my best friend.


Halfway home, I'd stopped and turned, picking out Gideon's penthouse high above Fifth Avenue.


I wondered if he was there, packing and planning for a weekend without me.