Reflected in You(80)

"I don't care what put him here.


I want to be with him while he's going through this."


"I'm glad to hear that."


I linked my arm with his and led him to Cary's room.


We entered to the sound of my mother's trilling, girlish laughter.


She sat on the edge of the bed, with Cary smiling adoringly at her.


She was as much a mother to him as she was to me, and he loved her so much for that.


His own mother had hated him, abused him, and allowed others to abuse him.


He looked over and saw us, and the emotions that swept across his face in that moment caused a tightness in my chest.


I heard Trey's breath catch as he got his first sight of Cary's condition.


I kicked myself for not telling him in advance not to make the mistake of getting weepy like I had.


Trey cleared his throat.


"Drama queen," he said with gruff affection.


"If you wanted flowers, you should've just asked for them.


This is extreme."


"And ineffective, apparently," Cary rejoined hoarsely, clearly trying to pull himself together.


"I don't see any flowers."


"I see a ton."


Trey's gaze did a brief slide across the room, then went back to Cary.


"Just wanted to see what I was up against, so I could beat out my competition."


There was no way to miss the double meaning in that statement.


My mom rose from the bed.


She leaned over and kissed Cary's cheek.


"I'll take Eva out to breakfast.


We'll see you in about an hour or so."


"Gimme a sec," I said, passing the bed quickly, "and I'll get out of your hair, guys."


I grabbed my phone and charger out of my bag and plugged it into an outlet by the window.


As soon as the screen flickered to life, I sent a quick group text message to Shawna and my dad, saying simply: I'll call later.


Then I made sure my phone was silenced and left it on the window ledge.


"Ready?" my mom asked.


"As I'll ever be."



Chapter 13



I had to get up before dawn Tuesday morning.


I left a note for Cary where he'd see it as soon as he woke up, then headed out to grab a cab back to our place.


I showered, dressed, made coffee, and tried to talk myself out of feeling like something was off.


I was stressed and suffering from lack of sleep, which always led to tiny bouts of depression.


I told myself that it had nothing to do with Gideon, but the knot in my stomach said differently.


Looking at the clock, I saw it was a little after eight.


I'd have to leave soon, because Gideon hadn't called or texted to say that he'd be giving me a ride.


It had been almost twenty-four hours since I'd last seen him or even really talked to him.


The call I'd made to him at nine the night before had been less than brief.


He'd been in the middle of something and barely said hello and good-bye.


I knew he had a lot of work to do.


I knew I shouldn't resent him for having to pay for the time away with extra hours of work getting caught up.


He'd done a lot to help me deal with Cary's situation, more than anyone could've expected.


It was up to me to deal with how I was feeling about it.


Finishing my coffee, I rinsed out my mug, then grabbed my purse and bag on the way out.


My tree-lined street was quiet, but the rest of New York was wide awake, its ceaseless energy thrumming with a tangible force.


Women in chic office wear and men in suits tried to hail taxis that streaked by, before settling for packed buses or the subway instead.


Flower stands exploded with brilliant color, the sight of them always capable of cheering me up in the morning, as did the sight and smell of the neighborhood bakery, which was doing a brisk business at that hour.


I was a little ways down Broadway before my phone rang.


The little thrill that shot through me at the sight of Gideon's name quickened my steps.


"Hey, stranger."


"Where the hell are you?" he snapped.


A frisson of unease dampened my excitement.


"I'm on my way to work."


"Why?" He spoke to someone offline, then, "Are you in a cab?" "I'm walking.


Jeez.


Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or what?" "You should have waited to be picked up."


"I didn't hear from you, and I didn't want to be late after missing work yesterday."


"You could've called me instead of just taking off."


His voice was low and angry.


I became angry, too.


"The last time I called, you were too busy to give me more than a minute of your time."


"I've got things to take care of, Eva.