One Touch of Moondust (16 page)

“Don't smirk. I'll talk to him.”

“Not just him, Gaby. Don't you think it's time you named this business and printed up cards? I'll bet those stores you've been patronizing would even hand them out for you.”

She considered the possibility thoughtfully. The idea was beginning to intrigue her more than she'd been willing to admit. “They might,” she conceded.

“Then why are you hesitating? Are you afraid of failing? You have a sound business mind. You must see that the opportunity is there, if you want it. You'd be offering a unique service. I'm sure Theresa will spread the word and I have plenty of customers who'll jump at the chance to have someone decorate for them at a reasonable cost.”

“I suppose you're right, but what if I get
bored with this, the way I did with Wall Street? So far it's been fun, but I've only done our place and Theresa's.”

Paul captured her foot and kissed her toes. His fingers massaged away the last of the soreness and the kisses sent waves of heat spiraling through her. It was a fantastic distraction.

“Then you'll do something else,” he said when she'd almost forgotten the question. “It's not as if this will require a major capital investment that will be at risk. How much can business cards cost? You don't have to worry about inventory or the overhead of office space. You don't even have to buy a fancy wardrobe. Your expenses will be at a minimum.”

“My parents—”

“Have nothing to do with this decision,” he said firmly. “Besides, don't they want you to be happy? They'll probably be thrilled to hear that you've started your own business.”

Gabrielle had her doubts about that. They might approve of her operating a discreet, exclusive antique store in the center of old Charleston. But they would die of shame if they ever saw the rundown places she visited
to find her bargains. They'd also probably hire a bodyguard to trail around after her.

But she could not live her life for her parents. She'd known that when she'd left South Carolina and it was no less true now. She finally gave free rein to the excitement that had been building inside her ever since they'd first discussed the idea. She grinned at Paul. “Let's go for it.”

“I assume you're referring to the business,” he said as his fingers trailed a blazing path up her leg. Her breath caught in her throat.

“That, too,” she said in a voice suddenly slowed by desire.

“Want to talk about the details?” he inquired as he did something particularly magical to the back of her knee.

“Later,” she murmured weakly.

“Smart woman. It's nice to know that your priorities remain in order now that you're a career woman again,” he said as he lifted her from the tub and carried her down the hall. She was too busy running her tongue along the rivulets of water on his neck to reply.

* * *

Second Chances, despite certain personal distractions that occasionally took precedence,
turned into a flourishing business. Paul and Gabrielle had more work than they could handle. The commissions weren't huge, but the satisfaction was tremendous and working with Paul gave her new respect for his talent at renovation. He did caring, conscientious work and his customers appreciated it.

On a personal level, their lives had meshed so completely that she couldn't imagine a future without Paul. She'd found her ideal mate, a man who was strong and supportive and caring, in the most unlikely place of all. She was still in his arms early one morning when she received a frantic phone call from Ted.

“What on earth is wrong?” she asked at once. “You're babbling. Slow down. Is it Kathy?”

“No. It's you. You're going to kill me.”

The genuine panic in his voice made her very nervous. Ted was the calmest man she'd ever met. “Would you please just tell me what's wrong?”

“It's your parents.”

Oh, hell. “What about my parents?”

“They're here.”

Shock and dismay swept through her. “Here? In New York?”

“Yes, in New York.” He took a deep breath, while Gabrielle's breath stopped. “Actually they're in this office. I got in a few minutes ago and they were already here waiting for you.”

“At seven-thirty?”

“Gabrielle, you used to be in the office by seven,” he reminded her. “They expected to find you here.”

“What have you told them?”

“I haven't said anything yet, except that I'd try to reach you. No one else had the nerve to tell them you didn't work here anymore.”

She swallowed hard. “Do you think they've figured it out?”

“Not yet, but they're beginning to guess that something's wrong. Your father's pacing and I've seen that expression before. It's the one he had on his face when he lost the vote on that health care amendment. I can't stall them much longer. They wanted me to give them your new number.”

Paul had remained silent up until now, but
he suddenly took the phone from her hand. “Ted, what's the problem?”

While Gabrielle pulled her knees to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and shivered uncontrollably, Paul extracted information from Ted. She was barely listening. This was her worst nightmare come true. She should have told her parents weeks ago. She could have sent a letter. She could have done almost anything except what she'd done, which was to hide from the truth in Brooklyn. She'd been living in a make-believe world.

She tuned back into the phone call just as Paul said, “Fine. Send them over.”

“No,” Gabrielle yelped, grabbing for the phone. “Ted, you can't send them here. Tell them I'll meet them at the Waldorf or the Plaza, anyplace they like in an hour. I need to explain things to them.”

“You can do that here,” Paul said quietly. She saw the ominous look in his eyes, the stiff set of his jaw and flinched. This was something she couldn't give in about, though. She had to see them alone. She could not expose Paul to an outpouring of their anger and dismay. She could not risk their disdain of the
life she and Paul had built together. Once she'd explained, told them how well things were going for her now, how much she loved Paul, maybe it would be okay. They weren't unfeeling ogres, for heaven's sake.

Clenching the phone so tightly her hand hurt, she repeated, “Tell them I'll meet them.”

They agreed on the Palm Court at the Plaza at nine. She hung up, more shaken than she'd ever been in her life. Not even her announcement of her plan to move to New York had terrified her like this.

“If you do it this way, we don't have a chance,” Paul said.

“It's the only way I can do it. I have to prepare them.”

“For what? Your great come-down in life? Me?”

“I don't mean it like that,” she said miserably.

“How do you mean it? What you're doing sounds exactly like what someone who's ashamed of her life would do.”

She looked at it through Paul's eyes and understood why he felt that way. “Please, try to understand. I just want it to be perfect when
they meet you. I'll explain everything and then I'll invite them over for dinner tonight. Is that all right?”

He nodded reluctantly. “I suppose that will have to do.”

She slid her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “I do love you.”

He sighed heavily. “I know, Gaby. I'm just not sure it's enough.”

* * *

Gabrielle walked into the Plaza with her shoulders squared and her head held high. Only she knew that an army of butterflies had been allowed to fly free in her stomach.

She saw her parents at once. Her father's steel-gray hair, florid complexion and ramrod straight posture were unmistakable. Her mother looked like an exquisite doll beside him. She was patting his hand, a familiar gesture that usually meant her father was about to explode and her mother was trying to forestall it. As she approached, her mother's face flooded with relief.

“Gabrielle, darling, here you are at last.” She bent over to give her mother a kiss.

“I'm early,” she said in response to the implied criticism. She felt herself regressing automatically to six-year-old status and pulled herself together.

“You know your father. He has absolutely no patience. He was furious when we got in last night and he realized we wouldn't be able to reach you until this morning. Then when you weren't at the office… Well, thank heavens, that nice young man was there.”

“Ted.” Gabrielle looked at her father and saw the affection in his eyes that counterpointed his scowl. She gave him a kiss. “Hi, Daddy. Why didn't you let me know you were coming?”

“How the hell were we supposed to do that?” he grumbled. “It was a last-minute thing. You know I don't approve of personal calls at work and you haven't seen fit to give us your new phone number.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” she said, sitting down gratefully and grabbing a menu before she could start wallowing in apologies. “Have you ordered yet? I'm starving.”

“No, dear. We've been waiting for you.”

“Why weren't you in the office, Gabrielle
?” her father demanded. She'd wondered how long it would take for him to get to the point, but she still wasn't prepared for the question.

“You've been fired, haven't you?” he said when she didn't respond.

“Yes,” she said, meeting his gaze evenly. This was it. The next few minutes would decide once and for all if she was a grown-up, independent woman or a coward.

Her mother gasped. “Darling, why didn't you tell us? We would have helped. Your father has contacts, I'm sure.”

“I didn't want to use Daddy's contacts. I knew I could handle things myself.”

“But what are you doing for money? That's why you moved, isn't it? You were running out of money. Oh, dear heavens, Gabrielle, you're not living in some awful place with cockroaches, are you?”

Gabrielle grinned despite herself. “No. Actually the apartment is quite nice. It's a renovated brownstone in Brooklyn.”

Her mother turned pale at that. She'd barely accepted the idea of Manhattan. Brooklyn was beyond her imagination. None of her friends
ever visited Brooklyn. They rarely got beyond the Plaza and Fifth Avenue.

“Is it safe?” her father demanded at once.

“Safe enough. And…” She couldn't meet their eyes. “Actually, I have a roommate.”

“Another stockbroker?”

“No.”

“One of your friends from school?” her mother said hopefully.

“No. It's someone I met when I first moved in.” She'd gotten this far. She might as well go for the rest. “It's a man and I'm very much in love with him. He's a contractor. He does renovations.”

“Oh, my,” her mother said, waving her napkin to stir a breeze. She did look ready to faint. Gabrielle encouraged her to take a sip of water.

“I'm fine, dear. It's just that this is such a surprise.”

“Shock would be more like it,” her father growled. “Who is this man? What do you know about him? What's his family like? I hope you've looked at his background very carefully, Gabrielle. A woman in your position can't be too careful. It would be just like some
con artist to take advantage of you because of me.”

“Actually, Paul didn't even know you were my father until quite recently. He wasn't wild about it.”

“What!” Her mother was aghast. “Why on earth not?”

“Because he's a wonderful, sensitive man. He sensed that you would disapprove of him because he's not rich and powerful. I'd like it very much if you would help me prove him wrong. I'd like you to come to dinner tonight.”

“Like hell we will,” her father said. “I do not condone your living with a man, no matter what his financial status, without being married. It goes against everything I stand for.”

“I'm not asking for your blessing, Daddy,” she said with quiet finality. “This is what I want. You can either accept it or not. It's your decision. I'll understand if you feel it would put you in an uncomfortable position politically.”

“Now, Gabrielle,” her mother whispered in a shocked tone, instinctively reaching out to
pat her husband's hand. “Your father is worried about you, not his political career.”

“Then please come tonight,” she said again. “I really think you'll like Paul, if you give him a chance.”

“Is he keeping you?” her father said bluntly.

Gabrielle swallowed her fury and managed to say politely, “No, Daddy. We've started a business together. I'm earning my own way.”

“What kind of business could you possibly do with a contractor?”

“We'll tell you all about it tonight. Will you be there?”

Her mother cast a look of entreaty toward her father. “Please.”

He sighed heavily, then said with obvious reluctance, “Okay. We'll be there.”

Once the shock of her news wore off, they spent the rest of the meal catching up on other gossip from home. Gabrielle gave them her address, then went home to prepare a dinner that hopefully would soothe her father into a more receptive mood.

It might have been better, she thought later, if she'd fed him tranquilizers. From the minute
her parents walked through the door, the tension was so thick it would have taken an ax to chop through it. Everyone was so incredibly polite, she felt like choking.

Her parents found her apartment
quaint
. The word was said with a slightly disdainful sniff. Paul congratulated her father on a recent victory in the Senate. She knew it was for a bill with which he violently disagreed, but he kept his own opinion in check. Her mother found Paul
charming
. That was said with a subtle lift of her eyebrows, meant to be seen only by her father. Naturally Paul saw it as well and the lines of tension around his mouth deepened. And then there were the less than subtle comments about Townsend, how devastated he was over the broken engagement, what a wonderful future he had, how often his family inquired about Gabrielle.