Chapter Twenty-Three
Rachel had been stressing out over this damn story. The more she uncovered, the more people she talked to, the less she wanted to write it at all. There was no way around it. This story was going to destroy her relationship with Gabe. Her interview with Jamie Privy had solidified the fact that, not only was there a club, but it was definitely located in Philadelphia. Then seeing Gabe with the cards…. It all led Rachel to a conclusion she didn’t like one bit.
Rachel could refuse to write the story. She knew that was a completely plausible option that would get her out of the mess she found herself in. But she also knew that would be career suicide. Because for as nice of a guy Rick was, he demanded professionalism. Not to mention the fact that he had his own bosses to answer to. If she didn’t come through after all of the resources they’d spent keeping her in Philly, she’d be out on her ass with a trail of bad references chasing after her. And she’d spent most of her career chasing this story. It would’ve basically reduced the last ten years to nothing.
She hated to think that she was choosing her job over Gabe. It made her sick to know that, by writing this story, that’s the decision she was making. But the relationship with Gabe was new. There were no guarantees there. He could decide tomorrow that he was over her and move on. While part of her understood how unlikely that was because the same part of her knew Gabe—knew what kind of man he was and how he felt about her—another part screamed at her to get the job done and accomplish a goal that had been ten years in the making. It had taken years of slogging through copy and writing fluff pieces that ended up on the cutting-room floor. Dozens of bullshit assignments and failed leads had led her to this story: the one that could make her entire career.
Not writing this story would feel like a slap in the face to everything she’d fought through and for. It would be like reaching a finish line and then turning around and running back the way she’d come. It would be a failure, and there’d be no one to blame for it but herself.
Rachel didn’t know how to choose between the two most important things in her life. So she decided to go with what seemed to be less of a gamble, and hope that when the bottom fell out of this thing with Gabe, that he’d one day be able to forgive her. Though she knew that was probably a long shot.
She also knew that she needed to tell him. There was no way she could let him find out when the story hit the paper. He was at least owed that much. Today. She’d tell him today. Before she had time to chicken out.
Rachel grabbed her phone off the coffee table to call Gabe, but it dinged in her hand before she could pull up his number. Coincidentally, it was a text from Gabe.
Hey, you around? I thought you might want to come over and I’ll order us a late lunch/early dinner.
A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach made her nauseous. For the first time since she could remember, she didn’t want to see Gabe, even though she knew she had to. She’d just walk in there and tell him—like ripping off a Band-Aid. Then he’d kick her out, and she’d be depressed for a while. Maybe years, but it wouldn’t be anything she didn’t deserve.
Sure, she typed back. I can be there in a half hour. Does that work?
Perfect, he replied.
She threw the phone on the couch and practiced some deep breathing exercises. She could do this. Would do this. She grabbed her stuff and went downstairs to hail a cab. Traffic was picking up in the city, but she still managed to get there a few minutes early. By the time she made it to Gabe’s door, he was standing at it waiting for her.
“Hey,” he said with a soft smile that was a little dimmer than the one he usually shone on her. He opened the door wider so she could walk in, and then closed it behind him. “I’m sorry to do this, but Jace just called and asked if I could help him at the hospital. Aly has a new patient that’s evidently a baseball fan.” He maintained his smile, but seemed to be avoiding her eyes, though it was probably because he felt bad canceling.
“I know you wanted to come to my volunteer outings, but I don’t think this is a good time for that,” he explained, which made Rachel feel like a jerk that Gabe would think she’d want to gawk at him while he helped a sick child.
“I totally understand,” she replied.
‘It’ll take me no more than two hours,” he continued. “I thought that, since you came all the way over here, you’d maybe wanna hang out and wait for me? Then I can take you out for dinner to make it up to you.” Gabe said the words in such a soft way, it made her heart flutter. The fact that he wanted her to wait for him was endearing.
“Sure. I’m free for the rest of the day, so I can definitely hang out.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled at her again. “Great.” He picked up his key ring and looked down at it. “I called for a car, so I don’t need my keys.” He held them out to her. “Why don’t you hang on to them in case you decide you want to step out for a bit? That way you can lock up and get back in.”
She gingerly took the keys from him. Warning bells sounded in her mind as the journalist in her knew what this could mean. He was leaving his keys with her. She’d have access to whatever these keys opened. And maybe he had another set of keys for the club, but there was still a chance. “Okay,” she said. “Thanks.”
He nodded. “No problem. See you in a couple of hours.” Then he opened the door and was gone, leaving her alone in his apartment with his keys.
She looked around as she let her fingers rub over the metal. The main issue was—aside from the fact that she was a horrible person for even considering this—she didn’t know exactly where the club was.
Or did she?
She pulled her phone from her pocket and went into her email to find the one Jared had sent. The one she’d never opened because she was a good person who didn’t want to pry into the personal business of her boyfriend. The truth was, she was way beyond that now, probably had been from the beginning. She’d been lying to him from the start. She was the villain in this story. She may as well go all the way.
She skimmed the information that included a credit history and his social security number, until she came to properties he owned. And there’s where she found an address for a property in Philly that wasn’t the one she was currently standing in. She grabbed her purse and Gabe’s keys and ran out the door to put the final pieces of the puzzle into place.
She tracked down a cab and gave the driver the address. As he drove her away from Gabe’s part of the city and into a decidedly more rundown section, she looked down at the email and then out the window, her brows furrowing in confusion. This can’t be right. “Are you sure this is the way to 578 Espiar Street?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
About ten minutes later, and in an even more decrepit part of the city, the cab pulled over to the curb. “Here we are,” the driver said.
Rachel looked around. They were in front of a building that had an alley leading down the right side. The windows were boarded up, and it looked like it hadn’t been occupied in years. “Can you wait?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
Taking a deep breath, Rachel pushed open the car door, and walked up to the building. There was a door, but it was blocked by wood that had been nailed over it. Pursing her lips, she wondered what the hell this place was. She walked to the corner of the building and looked down the alley. With one last look at the cab, she started making her way down the narrow, concrete space. Even though the sun was still high in the sky, the towering building on either side of her plunged the alley into shadow. It was creepy and scary and she wanted to be out of there yesterday. But still she walked until she arrived at a large fire door. “Here goes nothing,” she whispered to herself.
She held the keys up to the door and began trying them in the lock. Finally, she got to one that pushed in easily, but she stopped herself before turning it. Tears sprang to her eyes, and as she tried to blink them back they began to fall down her cheeks. What the hell was wrong with her? She was here. She’d already committed the ultimate betrayal. What difference did it make if she went inside? The damage was done.
A shudder worked through her as she stood there, holding the key in the lock with a trembling hand. “Fuck,” she whispered.
Rachel wasn’t sure why this was the thing that felt too far, but it was. This was the hurdle she couldn’t—wouldn’t—jump. She hadn’t known it until right this second, but she could not do this to Gabe. Because everything she knew now was still hypothetical. Without seeing a club, there could always be plausible deniability that there was one. But if she went inside…
Granted, she could always deny she’d gone in. She could go take a look around, find out the truth for herself to satisfy her curiosity. She’d always know she could’ve written the story, but that she’d chosen not to.
For Gabe.
But she owed him so much more than that. She owed him not to completely obliterate his life.
Letting out a deep breath she hadn’t even been aware she’d been holding, she made her decision. She went to slide the key out of the lock when a voice spoke behind her.
“Congratulations. I guess you’ve finally found what you were looking for.”