CHAPTER SEVEN
Gabriel pasted a smile on his face, sickness churning in his stomach. His right knee still hurt like a bitch, but at least the pain kept him from overthinking what was happening now. He was here to do a job and he needed to do it without limping. He had to present calm, smooth, urbane, and he knew he could do it, because when Stefan had done the last straightening of his tie, he’d kissed Gabriel so tenderly and told him in no uncertain terms that Gabriel was the best out there.
The best.
But he still felt sick. Probably a combination of the heavy painkillers he’d had to take for his knee and the absolute fear that he could, and likely would, fuck this up. The money, though? That was a sizable chunk of what he’d borrowed, and the payout to Gabriel after costs taken off by Stefan could possibly put him over the next thousand in his savings account.
Who was he kidding? He knew exactly how much he had saved, to the nearest cent, and this lump sum would really help.
“Ready?” Cam asked softly.
Driven by some inner demon, Gabriel reached out and took Cam’s hand, and he saw the subtle shift in Cam’s expression. Fear gave way to concern, which quickly morphed into resignation. He had the most beautiful, expressive eyes, and there was no sign he was blind. The bright blue was clear, and the only thing that gave it away was the way Cam would sometimes look at him and not be entirely focused in the right place. Only ever a few inches out, but enough for Gabriel’s observational skills, honed over the years by the imperative to survive, to pick up.
When Cam had opened his apartment door, right at the top floor of the hotel, Gabriel had to stop himself sighing. The man was gorgeous —his hair soft, and those eyes so damn blue, and even though he hadn’t been smiling at Gabriel, he’d seemed welcoming.
All the worries that Gabriel had been feeling—from Cam being a serial killer to this being a police sting—had vanished at the soft, hesitant but welcoming smile. There had been a dimple in that smile, and Cam had looked so handsome.
Then there was the blind thing. Jeez, that had hit Gabriel from out of left field. It explained the glasses, the dog with the seeing-dog harness, and the fact that this strong, sexy man couldn’t find a date without paying a whore like Gabriel.
Maybe other men didn’t like his lack of sight, but Gabriel wasn’t there to give a shit about what Cam could and couldn’t see. He was there to pretend, and he was damn good at that. He could pretend to be dominant, he could pretend to be submissive, he could pretend to orgasm, he could pretend to give a damn about anything if it meant paying back the money he owed.
Cam glanced at him when Gabriel took his hand, and Gabriel guessed it was a reflex thing, because he wouldn’t be able to see Gabriel’s motivations in his expression.
“Just holding hands,” Gabriel reassured him. “Come on, we need to sell this.”
Cam hesitated, then momentarily gripped Gabriel’s hand before relaxing his hold again.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go.”
Cam walked confidently, and after a few seconds Gabriel realized he was being led to the front desk, where a man who looked like an older version of Cam was blustering at the reception staff.
“Dad,” Cam said, and stopped right by the man, who turned sharply on his heel. Sebastian Stafford; Gabriel had researched him a little. Fifty-nine, rich, head of the Stafford family since his dad had passed away at a young age in the late nineteen-nineties. He waited for Cam to introduce him, but clearly Sebastian Stafford had something on his mind.
“Cameron, did you know there were only two staff here covering the desk? Count them. One. Two.”
Ouch; how was Cam supposed to count anyone? That was some insensitive shit coming from his dad. And wasn’t this Cam’s hotel? What right did Sebastian have to comment?
“Mr. Stafford, Julie needed a bathroom break,” a petite blond explained from behind the desk.
“Thank you, Emma,” Cam said firmly. “How is she feeling?”
“Better. The baby’s due in seven weeks.”
“Dad, let’s get a drink,” Cam said.
But Cam’s dad wasn’t letting things lie. “It’s important to have an effective—”
“Not tonight, Dad,” Cam said under his breath. “I’d like to introduce Gabriel Reyes.”
Gabriel held out his right hand, thanking the heavens he could still hold Cam’s hand with his left. He needed the reassurance, faced with an older version of Cam who stared at him like he was something you’d step in on the sidewalk.
“Sir,” Gabriel said, firmly, clearly, and with a strong handshake.
Gabriel waited for the inevitable questions, but a woman stalked up to them and air-kissed either side of Cam’s face.
“Cam, darling,” she said. “It’s Philippa,” she added in a louder tone.
“Hello,” Cam said dryly.
“And who is this lovely young man?” Philippa gushed, pressing a hand to Gabriel’s chest. Gabriel tried not to wince at the touch. She looked like something out of a soap opera, all makeup and up-do and in a dress dripping with diamanté, or maybe even diamonds—who knew how rich she was?
“This is Gabriel, my date.”
“Hello, Gabriel,” she purred, and patted his chest. “I’m Cam’s mother,” she added.
“Step-mom,” Cam corrected tightly.
Philippa giggled. Yep. Properly giggled, and leaned back on Sebastian, who was looking sharply at Cam. Thank god Cam couldn’t see that look, because if looks could kill…
“Oh, you,” she trilled, but there was a sharp edge to the teasing tone.
“Let’s go into the room,” Cam said, cutting conversation dead. He gripped Gabriel’s hand tight and turned back the way they’d come, stopping momentarily before striding purposefully toward a sign that indicated this was the Stafford ballroom.
“Sorry,” he muttered under his voice, but he didn’t let go. Seemed both he and Gabriel needed that reassuring connection.
The door opened, and it was a riot of gold and navy blue—the Stafford colors if the rest of the hotel was anything to go by. Balloons in displays, and a ceiling of floating balloons with fluttering tails of gold that shimmered in the light. There were ten tables, and Gabriel counted there would be eight to each table. There were pictures around the room of a couple in various poses, some professional, some candid, and the blue and gold changed in color to white as it reached the tables. Engagement party banners were everywhere, and there was a wide space to one side that Gabriel assumed was a dance floor, given the decks to one side.
Eighty sitting to eat.
“Chloe approved in principle,” Cam said, and made a gesture at the wide room. Gabriel had never seen anything so celebratory before.
“Can we add in two more seats?” his dad said, not commenting on the layout or the decorations around the room and on each table.
“My friend Marcia has flown in,” Philippa said, and leaned into Gabriel a little.
Gabriel moved away, bumping Cam, and it was his turn to apologize. The woman was openly leaning on him right in front of her husband, and Gabriel didn’t like it.
“Was Marcia on Chloe’s invitation list?” Cam asked carefully, which made Gabriel think it likely she wasn’t.
“Oh no, but Luke won’t mind. After all, I am mother of the bridegroom, and my wonderful son won’t tell me I can’t have my closest friend here.”
“Of course,” Cam said patiently. He gestured, and from the side of the room someone approached. “Please organize another two seats—”
“As close to the table with the happy couple as possible, of course,” Philippa interrupted, her tone less trilling and more demanding.
“See what you can do, Zachary,” Cam said, with a nod to the young man who was hovering.
“Sir,” Zachary said, and vanished through doors at the far end of the room.
“We’ll see you here in half an hour,” Sebastian said. He left with Philippa tripping after him, and then it was just Gabriel and Cam in the big room.
“What does it look like?” Cam asked quietly, and pulled his hand free of Gabriel’s. Weird how much Gabriel hated the loss of contact.
“Balloons thick on the ceiling, some more around the edges…it’s very blue and gold.”
“And the table decorations?”
“Blue and gold. I’m sensing a theme. Your stepmom is—”
“Discussing my family is not in your remit.”
Point taken, Gabriel stayed quiet and waited for Cam to say something else. He had to wait a while. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of smile in Cam at that moment, and it was made worse when Six joined them in the ballroom.
“Guests are collecting in the bar,” he said. ”Your mom is holding court with Chloe, right across from Philippa, who has her talons in Luke. It’s like a Mexican standoff in there.”
“Thank you, Six, I’ll go in there now.”
“Any issues?” Six asked, looking briefly at Gabriel but talking to Cam. From his look, Gabriel guessed that question was about him, unless he was being paranoid.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Cam said, and didn’t elaborate. The lack of speech between these two was just plain weird.
Drawing back his shoulders, Cam exhaled noisily and reached for Gabriel’s hand. “Let’s do this.”
Six looked pointedly at their joined hands, then up at Gabriel’s face, his eyes narrowing. There was a warning in his expression, and Gabriel recalled the feel of the man’s hands gripping his throat. He was so not going up against him—not with the danger in his face and the lethal strength in his hands. Still, that didn’t stop him pushing things a little further.
The wink was very deliberate and slow, and Six’s lips thinned.
Part of Gabriel wished the big, silent man would wink back—that might relax a little of the tension whirling around them.
And then Six did something that changed everything from harmless winking to something more. He held up his hand and shaped his fingers into a gun, pointing it right at Gabriel.
The message was clear.
Gabriel allowed himself to be led away by an oblivious Cam, Six close behind making Gabriel feel like death was following them.
And then everything got so much worse.
The door into the bar was wide enough that he could walk in at Cam’s side, but he wished he hadn’t, because the sea of faces were all looking right at him and Cam. There was a wall of sound, but it all stopped when Cam walked in. Gabriel felt like an exhibit in a zoo, but he pasted a smile on his face and didn’t do what he wanted to do, which was turn and run. Cam smoothly walked straight into the crowd. This was it.
A beautiful older woman approached Cam and pulled him into a close hug, which he returned. Gabriel caught a smile on his face and the whispered “Mom”. She pulled back and cradled his face.
“Sweetheart,” she murmured. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, pressing a kiss to his cheek and wiping away the gloss that she left there.
“How are you?” Cam asked. Really formally, like they were just acquaintances. Hell, Gabriel was utterly convinced that if this were his mom, he’d be all over her. Moms and kids loved each other.
“Hey, big brother.” A younger version of the mother cradling Gabriel’s face approached.
“Hey, Chloe,” Cam said, and pulled her into an affectionate hug. Now there was warmth and love.
“And who is this?” Cam’s mom asked, and Gabriel realized she was asking about him.
“Gabriel,” he said, and extended his hand.
“Anne, Cam’s mom,” Anne said, and shook his hand warmly.
“And I’m Chloe, Cam’s sister,” Chloe said with a genuine smile.
“Really nice to meet you both,” Gabriel said.
He could do manners. Stefan had given him all kinds of pointers. Also, he’d mentioned that moms needed sex as well, and even though Gabriel was there for the men, Stefan always said he’d pick up the slack with any of the moms or sisters. Somehow that always made Gabriel feel slightly sick. He imagined that if he had a sister or a mom, he would want to protect them and not have them visiting guys like Stefan for sex.
“…through the hotel,” Cam was saying, and nudged Gabriel with his elbow.
“Sorry?” Gabriel said, coming back to the conversation.
Always give the client one hundred and ten percent of your focus.
“Mom asked how we met; I was telling her about you coming to the hotel.”
“Yes, that’s how we met,” Gabriel agreed, and slipped his hand into Cam’s. “Our eyes met across a crowded room,” he embellished.
Anne looked confused. “Cam said you were booking a conference here.”
Gabriel had to think on his feet. “I know, but that sounds so boring,” he teased.
Anne nodded and smiled, and it seemed that Gabriel had skirted that particular faux pas.
A waiter arrived at Cam’s side and whispered something, and in turn Cam looked over toward a man who looked like he’d rather be anywhere than being gripped hard by a widely smiling Philippa. That must be the prospective groom, Luke.
Luke disentangled himself and came over to Chloe’s side, and they hugged briefly.
“Ready?” Luke asked.
“Let’s go,” Chloe said.
The waiter opened the large doors, and Chloe and her fiancé had their first look at the ballroom decorated for their engagement party.
Her inhalation of wonder was exactly what Gabriel had wanted to do when he’d seen the room; it really was pretty spectacular, and even better from this entrance spot, because the first thing your eyes went to was a raised dais dripping with flowers, where he guessed the future bride and groom would be sitting. Cam smiled broadly at hearing his sister’s pleasure, and Gabriel could read the man’s happiness that what he’d done for his sister had worked.
Had Cam been nervous?
Gabriel went through a few versions of his origin story. At first it was that they’d met recently through the hotel, with no embellishment, and most people were happy with that. Then it got more serious and Gabriel had to think on his feet. Turned out going back to his own real story and embellishing it sparingly was enough to make him sound authentic. No, his parents were both dead. Yes, that was terribly sad. No, he’d moved away from home a long time ago. Yes, he had a touch of Latino heritage. Yes, he’d been born near Laredo. Yes, he worked in sales.
All that was true. Even the sales part. He just assumed that everyone would react a little differently if they realized what he was selling was his body.
Finally he’d covered everyone in the entire state of Texas, or at least so it seemed.
The last couple they’d talked to, some loudmouthed, big-hatted, in-your-face Texan dude who’d introduced himself as Josiah Harrold, and his wife, Dilys, whose skin appeared to be stretched to the extreme, had been the icing on the whole cake.
“Does he know what you look like?” they’d asked Gabriel, almost as one person, which had been freaky.
Right in front of Cam. Right with Cam standing there holding Gabriel’s hand.
Gabriel hadn’t hesitated, because Cam hadn’t answered, so he’d made a show of leaning into Cam and smiling down at him.
“You don’t need to see everything to know how you feel,” he’d murmured, feeling Cam stiffen next to him.
Mr. Texas and his wife had wandered away after that.
“What was that?” Cam hissed under his breath.
“What?”
“How you feel? What the hell was that?”
“An answer to a question that you weren’t going to reply to,” Gabriel said.
“Well, stop it,” Cam said. His voice was so low that Gabriel had to lean in to hear him. “Stop implying we feel things for each other. This is one fucking night.”
Oh wow, Cam was really stressed, and it was Gabriel’s job to help him out with that.
“Okay,” he said. “My bad,” he added, but he didn’t let go of Cam’s hand.
At least they were having dinner now, and the table they were at was family with extras. He was sitting next to a woman in her seventies with startlingly white hair and a propensity for patting his hand.
“How is Cameron?” she asked Gabriel with a little pat. Her voice was certainly loud enough for Cam to hear, and really she could be asking him directly. Her name was Poppy Stafford, and given that she wasn’t on or near the top table, she was likely some kind of great-cousin or something. Who knew? He’d given up trying to follow everything a long time ago.
Gabriel nudged Cameron to indicate that Poppy was asking about him, but Cam was chatting to a teenager sitting on the other side of them and didn’t even acknowledge the nudge. So that left Gabriel to answer the old lady’s question.
“He’s doing great,” Gabriel said, then channeled his inner Cam and concentrated on his starter, a mix of lettuce with chicken. At least he thought it was chicken.
“Such a waste,” Poppy continued, her voice even louder. “Don’t you think?” she added, and Gabriel gave her a sideways glance.
“Sorry?” he asked, not sure he’d heard her right. He expected some comment about how all the good ones were gay; after all, she couldn’t have failed to understand that Gabriel was there as Cam’s partner tonight. She looked right at him with shrewd, focused eyes.
“Young Cameron,” she began, and pointed right at him. “A waste. Such a shame.”
That got Gabriel’s back up. What did she mean by saying that in her loud voice? He’d observed a lot of that tonight. People nodding sadly as they spoke to Cam, tripping over their words like they didn’t know what to say. Gabriel had even noticed a teenager talking at Cam, slowly and loudly, like being blind meant he couldn’t hear or understand and the kid equated blindness with being dim. Cam had never flinched once. He clearly had the patience of a saint.
But then it got worse. The door to the ballroom opened and a couple walked in, heading for their table and taking the two seats that had been inexplicably empty.
“Evening, everyone,” a dark-haired man announced dramatically to the table. “My apologies, the traffic was awful.” He sat right opposite Gabriel, and his eyes landed right on where Gabriel and Cam were holding hands on the table.
“Hi, Cam.” The slim, delicate-looking woman came toward Cam and kissed him first. “Sorry,” she murmured, then took her seat next to the dark-haired man.
“Gabriel, this is my other sister, Sophie, and her husband, Mitchell.”
Mitchell stood again and extended his hand across the table, and Gabriel momentarily released his hold of Cam’s hand to lean over him to shake Mitchell’s. Everything was so formal and stilted.
“I was just saying how much of a shame it is,” Poppy said, sounding eager to expand on her comments with the new addition to the audience. “About his eyesight.”
Cam stiffened next to him, and Gabriel took his hand again, this time under the table, squeezing it tight.
“Poppy—” Sophie began, then subsided when Mitchell frowned at her.
“When you and Mitchell have babies, they may be able to do a scan and you could make a decision about whether you want it,” Poppy said, and Sophie went from flushed pink to scarlet. A hush fell over the table. “You know, if it’s going to be blind.”
What the fuck? Was this woman senile? That had to be the only explanation. If she was, then maybe a lot of people here tonight were impaired in the same way. Gabriel couldn’t believe half of the shit Cam had endured. From the outright rude, who’d talked to him and not to Cam, to the over-interested, who’d touched him and used words like ‘such a shame’ and ‘sorry’. Like Cam was something to be pitied.
Gabriel concluded several things at once. Nobody here tonight had any idea how to talk to Cam. Poppy was an aged bitch. Cam’s sister Sophie was either pregnant or planning on it, because she was clutching her stomach. She also looked wary and startled when Mitchell leaned over to whisper in her ear.
He’d imagined that any sister of Cam’s, half-sibling or not, would be different. Vivacious, maybe. But she was on edge and looked like she didn’t want to be there. Gabriel watched them as they ate their meal. She didn’t say much, and when she did speak, Mitchell was there, talking over her or belittling her. Of course, he was going for the good ol’ boy effect, but all he was doing was making his wife sink lower in her chair.
And Gabriel knew exactly what was happening. It was exactly what Stefan did to him. But why did she put up with it? She probably had enough money to get a new husband and be a lot happier than she was now.
“And of course, having my beautiful wife there with me made everyone stare.” Mitchell finished off a story about a business trip and pressed a kiss to Sophie’s head, and she beamed up at him like he’d bestowed the best gift ever.
She would never want to leave him, not while he gave her rewards after making her feel like shit. Should he make a comment to Cam? Was it his place to point out that his sister was being treated that way? He’d bet Cam didn’t even know; so much of any abuse was in touches and facial expressions. He closed his eyes briefly and listened to Mitchell wax lyrical about a little business that his gorgeous wife was starting. He sounded proud, but under it all there was a thread of possessiveness.
I only know that because I hear it all the time.
Next to him, Cam was trying not to be pissed, but every line of him was taut with tension. It didn’t help when Poppy carried on with her line of inappropriate comments.
“The balloons are beautiful shades of blue and gold, you know,” she said, then leaned around Gabriel. “Do you remember blue?” she asked Cam.
Sophie looked wretched but said nothing. Mitchell snorted a laugh. He appeared to love drama, as he sat forward to wait for Cam’s response.
Fuck it. Stefan would be mad at him, but Gabriel wasn’t sitting there like an excuse for an idiot, and Cam shouldn’t either.
“Cameron’s vision loss is due to a one-in-a-million chance,” he said, without any idea whether that was true. “He loves the color blue, which is the same as his gorgeous eyes. Sophie, it was nice to meet you, and congratulations on the pregnancy by the way. Poppy, we’re very happy as a couple, thank you, and nothing stops us.” She opened her mouth to say something, but Gabriel plunged ahead. “Also, planning for our Everest climb is well underway.” Everest? Where was this shit coming from? “Isn’t this event wonderful?”
Gabriel looked around the table at each person. Mitchell’s mouth was hanging open, Sophie was cringing, and finally his gaze landed on Poppy, who looked a little shocked.
“Wonderful,” she murmured.
For a few seconds the silence remained, then Poppy turned to Sophie and began to chat to her. Mitchell excused himself and headed for the top table, entering into some back slapping and hugs with Sebastian. A much different welcome to the son-in-law than the one Sebastian had shared with his biological son, Cam.
Strange, confusing family.
“Everest?” Cam said dryly, his voice only loud enough for Gabriel to hear.
“It was the first mountain I could think of,” Gabriel admitted.
Education for him had stopped young, but he had Google, and hell, everyone knew Mount Everest.
“And my gorgeous blue eyes?”
“They are very blue and very gorgeous.”
Cam spoke low to him again. “Is Sophie pregnant? She didn’t tell me.” He sounded disappointed. “But if you can tell, then she must be at least three months.”
“No, flat as a pancake,” Gabriel said. “But she has an incredibly expressive face, and she clutched her belly when Poppy made an ass of her old self. But that could have been a defensive move because her husband is all up in her face.”
Cam shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“He’s a judgmental prick,” Gabriel muttered, then coughed. “Sorry.”
“Like I said, family is off limits to you.”
Gabriel couldn’t let it alone, he didn’t like the look of the way Cam’s sister seemed so quiet and subservient. “What do you think of Mitchell?”
Gabriel had to ask, and he stared right at Cam, hoping to pick up some change in his expression.
“Sophie seems happy with him,” he said. And that was all he was going to say about that, apparently.
“Where did he go? Mitchell, I mean.” The way that Cam said “Mitchell”, with a note of derision, added to Gabriel’s initial suspicion that he and Cam weren’t close. Was anyone close in this crazy, mixed-up, who-is-related-to-whom family?
“Talking to your dad.”
Cam huffed and picked up his water glass. “Now that I’d like to see,” he murmured. “I bet it’s all hugs and back-slaps and let’s-take-over-the-universe-together over there.”
“Pretty much.” Gabriel sipped at his own water.
All that wine and champagne, and both of them were staying sober. He could manage that, but given the underlying mess of angst going on in the Stafford family, he thought it would be good for Cam to have a drink.
“So you don’t get on with your dad?” Gabriel leaned in so he could talk low and hear the answer, and it crossed his mind that to anyone watching they would look like they were having a tender moment.
“We have differing opinions on my sight and my sexual orientation—”
“He’s an asshole, then,” Gabriel snapped, then nearly bit his lip. Somehow that visceral reaction had just slipped out, and the tightness in his chest at the rudeness of it was very real. He needed to be paid tonight, because otherwise how would he explain to Stefan what had happened? So he really needed to cool his jets.
But Cam didn’t throw him out; he simply turned fully in his chair so he could face Gabriel. “What did you just say?”
“Sorry,” Gabriel offered immediately.
“No, carry on, please.” That could have sounded different, like Cam was patronizing him, but actually it was a genuine request. “What did you just say to me?”
Gabriel swallowed, and hesitated to find the right answer.
“I just meant…we’re at a family event, they’re all unable to talk to you or look at you…hell, only a handful of people approach you normally, and your dad is the worst of all.”
“And your point is?”
“Doesn’t it piss you off?” Gabriel couldn’t understand how Cam could sit there and keep his temper.
Cam looked straight at him, completely focused on the right point, and not for the first time Gabriel found himself fascinated by Cam’s sapphire eyes.
“Can you pass me the wine?” Cam said finally.
Gabriel fought his initial instinct to pour wine for Cam, and instead passed him the nearest bottle of red. “Is red okay?”
Cam took the bottle, and Gabriel watched fascinated as Cam reached for his glass and filled it with wine. He balanced the bottle in his hand, and Gabriel noticed a subtle heft of it, probably testing for how much was in there and where the balancing point was. Cam used his other hand to hold the glass steady just off the table’s surface. Everything about the way Cam worked was a matter of balance and center.
He took a healthy swallow of wine, and another, and another, then refilled the glass.
“Yes, of course it pisses me off,” he murmured.
Cam looked nothing like his dad; he had a lot of his mom in him, and he didn’t have the seemingly permanent expression of disapproval that marked Sebastian’s face.
“Son, a word,” Sebastian said from behind them.
Gabriel turned, and Mitchell was there as well, looking smug and arrogant. This wasn’t good. He leaned close to Cam and whispered, “Mitchell is with him.”
“I’m done here,” Cam said, picked up the rest of the bottle of wine and the glass, and stood up. “Let’s go,” he said, and Gabriel scrambled to stand, taking the nearly full glass from him and offering his arm.
As quickly as he could, he led Cam through the maze of tables and to the door they’d come in through, and from there to the elevators. Only when they were inside with the doors closing on an irate-looking Sebastian heading toward them could Gabriel finally relax a little.
Cam stood against the opposite side of the car, the bottle of wine hugged to his chest and his expression strangely impassive.
The elevator came to a stop on the top floor and Cam strode out, Gabriel behind him, trailing him to his apartment.
Then they went inside, and finally they were alone.