All the Way

Chapter Ten

Miranda knocked on the door to his office and peeked in. Gavin slumped in the chair with a bunch of spreadsheets open on his computer. His BlackBerry lay to his right, and a laptop showed a scroll of emails flashing across the screen. Open folders spit out massive amounts of paper. She shuddered. Paperwork was a bitch.

“Gavin?”

He spun around and smiled. Like gooey caramel, she warmed and melted into a puddle. “Hey, baby. I didn’t expect you tonight.”

“I got out of the wine tasting early. I think I’m tipsy.”

He laughed and met her halfway. Dipped his head and took her mouth in a long, thorough, heated kiss. “Hmm, Merlot. Nice flavor.”

“You look swamped. I can go.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and held her. Miranda relaxed in his embrace and wondered when they’d crossed the line into the familiar. With each day that passed these past two weeks, they fell into a cozy routine. She stayed at Mia Casa to keep him company in the evenings. He accompanied her on foodie outings. He brought her lunch in the office and seduced her through the hours of darkness. “Don’t go. I need to get a leap up on this deal, but I’m burnt.”

Her muscles stiffened but she kept her voice casual. “Work for MacKenzie & Associates?”

He seemed about to tell her something important, then closed his mouth. “Yeah.”

The inner voice in her head screamed in warning. His job would never be stable or home-based. He planned to get Mia Casa on its feet and leave all of them. Yes, he loved her. Yes, he probably had a plan to get her to accompany him, or deal with a long-distance relationship. Nausea tickled her stomach. She didn’t want either. Even worse, she was afraid he loved the excitement too much to ever give it up. The ticking clock was the huge pink flamingo in the room they both stepped around. Soon, they’d both have to admit it was there.

But not now.

She stroked back his hair. The strands curled around her fingers like raw silk. “Let’s not talk about that now. I have an idea. Come with me.”

“Where?”

“Out.”

He hesitated. “Brando will kill me. We had a crisis today and he’s still freaked out. I have to study the janitorial staff for this new deal. Yell at the fish guy for the crap he gave me yesterday. Other stuff, too.”

She cocked her head. “Interesting. Don’t be a wimp. We’ll sneak out.” Miranda peered down the hallway and gripped his fingers. “No one will ever know you’re not in there.”

They tiptoed out and tore down the back alley. His laughter rung in her ears. The frosty air nipped at her nose and her boots crunched on black, leftover snow. The city was dirty, feisty and full of life, even late at night. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Within moments, those talented fingers roamed over the curve of her buttocks. “You have a thing for doing it in public?”

He looked offended. “I didn’t take my jacket. I need the warmth.”

Miranda decided the least she could do was not let him freeze.

They walked fast and in companionable silence until they reached Central Park. The crowds thinned in the frigid temperatures after the holidays, and by the time they arrived at their destination, no one was there.

He looked up at Wollman Rink. “No way. We’re going ice skating?”

“Yes. You need some exercise, fresh air, and to clear your head. Let’s go.”

He dragged his feet through the process, but in a matter of minutes, they’d rented their skates, laced them up, and entered the ice. Gavin paused with one blade halfway down. “I don’t know about this.”

“You loved ice skating when you were younger.”

Surprise flickered across his features. “You remember that?”

“Of course.” Still, he didn’t move. Almost as if he was afraid of touching something he loved when he was young. Almost as if he wasn’t worthy to remember. “I’m doing this for your own good.”

She pushed him.

He stumbled, caught himself, dipped halfway, and found his balance. She tamped down a giggle and joined him on the ice.

Miranda learned to ice skate as soon as she decided New York City was the place for her to settle down. She used to watch the families and children skate around the big Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, and longed to join them. Huddled on the sidelines, one day she put on skates and never looked back.

She loved the slick slide of the blades over the ice. The wind on her face and the odd sense of freedom she achieved by gliding round and round. Miranda did a few laps, then skidded by his side. “How are you doing?”

He glowered and clung to the wall. “This is stupid. I’m stressed out. I can’t skate anymore.”

“Yes, you can. It’s like riding a bike.”

“I sucked at that, too.”

Frustration beat from him in waves. She knew Gavin was a perfectionist, and hated to fail. “Let go of the railing. Trust yourself.”

“I trust myself. I just don’t trust the ice.”

She bit her lip and tried hard not to laugh. He was adorable. Brow crinkled. Blue eyes snapping with impatience. Concentration carving out his features. Miranda glanced around at the mostly empty rink. A few stragglers huddled by the far wall, talking and not skating.

She moved backward and did a fancy spin to show off. “Maybe you need a bit of motivation.”

“What type of motivation?” he grumbled.

“Me. You. Later.”

His head snapped up. “How so?”

She tapped her finger against her chin. “Hmm. How about naked Sundays?”

“Huh?”

“We planned on sleeping in this Sunday. Cooking, reading the paper, lying low. If you catch me, I’ll do it all naked.”

She swung her hips back and forth in sensual rhythm and did a quick half turn. “What do you think?”

He cleared his throat and looked down at his feet. Back up. “What if I can’t catch you?”

She pulled a sad face. “My ratty flannels come out and don’t come off.”

“I’ll give you a head start.”

Miranda shrieked as he pushed off from the wall. She sped up, but in moments his awkward pacing smoothed out and those powerful legs ate up the space between them. Her heart thundered as she whipped around the bend, peeking behind her.

Determination pulsed in waves, along with a hunger that made her belly drop. Hell, she couldn’t do naked Sundays. How embarrassing.

He gained on her and she leaned forward for more speed. The wind ripped at her hair and her nose grew drippy and she skated like her ass was on fire.

His fingers closed on her wrist. One quick tug caught her off balance and she prepared for a graceless fall. The air whooshed past and she tumbled on a hard, muscled chest. With one last whirl across the ice, they skidded to a stop in a tangle of limbs.

She looked up. He grinned. “You’re right. With the proper motivation, I can skate.”

Miranda wiped at her nose and scowled. “You tricked me. I thought I was helping.”

“You did. Sunday can’t come fast enough. I feel better now.”

“I don’t.” She scrambled to her feet and he interlaced his fingers with hers. He led her back on the ice and they glided in silence, limbs in sync, under a shiny half-moon in the middle of winter.

“Miranda?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” He dragged in a lungful of chilled air and lifted his face to the sky. She smiled. A deep peace settled over the rink and lodged in her heart to stay. Time was running out and a decision needed to be made. They became experts in ignoring the obvious, choosing to drown in each other’s body and mind and seize the moment. The inevitable discussion loomed before them. Would Gavin stay to run the restaurant and sacrifice his career? Or would she be able to uproot herself and travel with him, hoping desperately not to lose her soul along the way?

Gloom threatened, but she clasped Gavin’s hand and held on tight. Not today. Not now. For a little while, everything was perfect, under the gleaming moon and the frost-tinted air and the lights of the rink.

They spent the next half hour skating.

…

Gavin exited the supply room with a satisfied grin. After a spirited discussion with his pastry guy, he’d chopped away the cost by some serious poker playing. Adrenalin spiked through his bloodstream. Nothing pumped him up as much as getting a deal, especially when Mia Casa profited. Funny, he prided himself on grinding down his opponents, but this time it seemed less for him than it was for his family. Wringing out another dollar for McKenzie & Associates didn’t give him the same zing.

He stopped at the bar and watched his lady walk over. The swing of her hips accented the fire of her hair and melted his brain. Damn, she was hot. He kissed her slow and deep. “Hey, baby. I got lunch lined up for you.”

“Nice. I always enjoy Tony’s special treats.” She sat on the bar stool and greeted Dominick. “I’m having a hell of a day and hoping it’ll get better.”

“Poor baby. Maybe some—what’s the matter?”

She stiffened beside him. “I can’t believe she had the nerve to show up.”

Her eyes shot sparks of fury at the petite woman across the room. Gavin blinked and directed his attention to her table. Legs crossed neatly under the table, she perused the menu and sipped at the ice water, looking like the normal executive on her lunch hour. Her navy blue suit, pearls and pumps pegged her as a conservative businesswoman. If the woman was all boobs and flash, he’d understand better.

“Who is she?” he asked.

She practically spit the name out. “Allison Wheaton. The food critic from The Gazette. You know, her column, Allison Speaks.”

Recognition dawned. Then worry. “Holy crap, is she doing a review? I have to let Tony know.”

Miranda shook her head. “No, I doubt it. She likes to eat at the restaurants I’ve written about. I found her staking this place out during your opening night for the lounge.”

“Like a groupie?”

She huffed out a breath. “No, more like a stalker. She’s been pissed at me since my editor named my column Miranda Eats. She thinks I stole her tagline and wanted to humiliate her. Always states The Gazette has been around longer than us, and we’re a poor carbon copy. She despises the media attention I’ve received, and we’ve been battling ever since.”

He stared at the critic in fascination. Who would’ve known the food industry had its ruthlessness? Sure, he knew about epic chefs and restaurant wars, but critics? He decided not to let Miranda see the humor of the situation, since she seemed about to go all Mafia on him. “Why don’t you go, sweetheart? Come by for dinner later on, and I’ll be able to get off a bit early. We can take in a movie.”

Her gaze never broke away from the woman’s back. “Hell, no. I’m staying right here until I know what she orders. She stole my plum review of La Saveur and my feature in Gourmet magazine. What if she’s discovered we’re together and wants to hurt Mia Casa? I’ll kill her.”

He clamped his lips together. “Umm, okay, then. I guess it’s to the mattresses.”

“Huh?”

Why didn’t any woman ever appreciate the sheer genius of The Godfather? “Never mind. Brando’s covering, so I’ll make sure you get the details.”

“Thanks.”

He shook his head as he headed toward the kitchen. He called over Anthony and Brando quickly. “We got a food critic at table four.” Gavin held up his hands. “I don’t want any panic or strange behavior. Miranda just tipped me off and says she’s not here for a formal review. But I don’t want any screw-ups just in case. Capisce?”

They both nodded but didn’t move.

Anthony twisted his apron. “What do we do now?” he whispered.

“Cook, Tony. Take her order, Brando. Get it together, guys!”

They burst back into movement and he double-checked the specials to make sure there’d be no surprises this time. He walked back out and motioned for Dominick to get Miranda a glass of Pinot Grigio to calm her nerves. She hadn’t moved yet from her spying position. “Any updates?”

“Nope. She hasn’t made any calls and just sips at her water. Vegan.”

He drew back. His lady was pretty much one of the sweetest, most forgiving on the planet. This was quite serious. In moments, Brando rushed over. “Miranda, she ordered fettuccine carbonara, meatballs, the house salad with Italian dressing, and a side order of broccoli rabe.”

Gavin winced. Ever since that night, he’d longed to take it off the menu, but Pop refused.

Miranda shot up. “That’s the same food I ordered when I wrote my review! What is she up to? I’ve had enough of this crap.”

Brando’s mouth fell open. Gavin watched as his normally serene lover stalked over to table four, dragged out the opposite chair, and plopped down on the seat. Brando looked at him. “What should we do?

“I’ll take care of it. Just put in her order.” He walked over to the table and interrupted a fierce staring contest. The air sparked with tension and some other element. Something purely feminine. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Gavin, and I’m the owner of Mia Casa. I wanted to welcome you today, and check if you needed anything.”

The lady smiled up with a predator-like smile that scared the crap out of him. Oh yeah, this was one straight from the movies—cold to the bone. She gave a brief nod. “A pleasure to meet you, Gavin. I’m looking forward to my lunch before I return to the office.”

Miranda leaned forward. “What are you doing here, Allison? First the lounge, now lunch. Don’t you have a snobby French place to review?”

The woman snorted. “Maybe I’m just wondering what’s so fascinating about reviewing spaghetti and meatballs, Miranda eats. Your readership must be slipping.”

Whoa. Miranda pushed up out of her chair, back ramrod-straight. “Just trying to compete with the educational, inspiring review of the gyro from your review last month.” The sweetness of her smile flashed pure malice. “Take-out Greek must be the new rage. Or so says the truck on the corner of 8th Avenue.”

Allison gasped. Gavin looked back and forth between them, as if watching Wimbledon and refusing to miss a serve. “Umm, ladies, may I get you a glass of wine on the house?”

They ignored him.

“You know how I like to encompass all food genres. All classes of people. Your work is so one-dimensional. Perhaps that’s why I’ve been invited to review Americanize Steak House before the grand opening.” Allison licked her lips in triumph. “I guess he’ll be calling to cancel your invitation.”

Miranda gasped. “I was supposed to do a column on his opening and you know it! We set this up months ago.” Her body shook. “What did you do to pull this coup off?”

Allison drew her lips back in a sneer. “It’s called talent. But I’m sure you could trade sexual favors to bump you back up the list.”

Gavin jerked back. Holy shit, were women allowed to trade insults like that? Miranda jumped up from the table, and suddenly Allison was in her face. One glance around the room showed the men in his family completely entranced with the idea of a cat fight. Ah, hell, no one was breaking this up unless he stepped in.

“How dare you? I don’t need to mix business with pleasure like you do. Favorably reviewing all of your boyfriend’s restaurants is despicable. My career comes first, and I respect the public.”

“Umm, Miranda, maybe we should get some air?” He grasped her shoulder to ease her back, but she shook him off like a prized fighter.

“I bet you’d sell out your career for a cheap lay.” Allison sniffed and looked down at her. “I’ve been in the business much longer than you. It’s a proven fact in the industry. Mix criticism with pleasure and you have a disaster.”

A stillness came over his lover and his gut clenched. Uh-oh. Something big was going down, and he had a bad feeling. A triumphant expression crossed Miranda’s face. He didn’t have a moment to process the result.

“Maybe you don’t take your career as seriously as I do. You see, Gavin is both the owner of Mia Casa and my lover. I wrote the review while we were dating.”

With one quick movement, she grasped his head and pulled his mouth down to hers. He heard the whoosh of his own breath at the openly carnal, open-mouth kiss, the gasp of Allison, and the laughter of the crowd. With a huge wet smack, she released him, and gave her enemy a brilliant smile.

Allison stared at them both. “Impossible. You trashed your own lover’s restaurant?”

Miranda beamed. “Damn straight, I did. I’m hardcore. Don’t forget it, Allison.”

With a saucy grin, she walked out the door.

Point, set, and match to Miranda.

Score.

Yeah, he loved the hell out of that woman. Now he had to find a way to keep her, save the restaurant, and get his partnership. He was due to hear back from his boss by the end of the week, and he hoped to God he wasn’t out of time.

…

Gavin sat in his office and studied the spreadsheets. A slight throb at the back of his neck warned him a headache was on the way. He rubbed his temples and tried to concentrate. His future lay before him in all its former glory, and suddenly instead of the yellow brick road, it looked more like the road to Perdition.

He clicked the mouse and brought up the email. His boss was quite clear in his intentions. Gavin’s time was officially expired. He was due in China by the end of the week. The airline tickets attached slammed him back into reality. If he did his job, he’d finally get his partnership.

A partnership he didn’t even know if he wanted anymore.

Everything seemed to have changed this past year. In a cutthroat world where profit and flexibility for travel meant success, he’d carved out a name for himself and a reputation that preceded him. He’d been proud of the accomplishment, but after walking into his fourth meeting of the day, he realized he’d reached thirty years old and lived on antacids and caffeine. Burn-out flickered at the edges of his life. He lived in conference rooms and out of suitcases and briefcases. He’d been in Rome and never viewed the Coliseum. Lived in London for two weeks and couldn’t say what the Queen’s residence looked like. Life passed him by, and thoughts of what he gave up with Miranda tortured him.

Before his father called, he’d taken a long vacation and traveled for pleasure. For knowledge. For self-actualization. He studied self-help books and got hooked on the mastery of ancient yogis who reached enlightenment and had nothing in their pocket. When he reached India, something clicked deep inside. Finally, he found the truth. Peace was all from the inside, and had nothing to do with how many accounts can be closed in so little time.

Yet, with his own making, he’d trapped himself. Cloaked in a surface life of travel and profit, he had no idea how to step off the endless hamster wheel. When Pop called him to save Mia Casa, the missing puzzle piece clicked into place. For the first time, he felt like he’d found home. With Miranda back in his arms, he’d finally found love.

But was it too late? He’d be in China for three months. His family accepted his help, but he no longer belonged to the restaurant world, and would never yank that from his brother’s grasp. Lately, Brando had worked hard to become more responsible. Hell, he’d been covering his own ass with all the evenings he missed trying to forge a relationship with Miranda. No, his brother deserved the restaurant. Gavin made the choice years ago to walk away.

It had just been the wrong choice.

A knock sounded on the door and his father stepped in. “Tony says he doesn’t have enough tomatoes.”

Gavin grasped for patience. “Pop, there’s plenty there. Remember, you have to look at the inventory chart. Here, I’ll show you on the computer.”

Archimedes snorted in sheer disgust. “I do not like these fancy new programs. Too many colors. Too small print. Makes my eyes hurt.”

“You have to learn it. I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Ah, you are going back, huh?”

Temper and guilt nipped at his nerves. “I don’t have a choice, Pop. I only took a leave of absence to help. We’re going to be okay. I’ve been showing Brando the ropes, and I’m hiring a general business manager to run the day-to-day. I’m also increasing the wait staff and getting Tony a new assistant chef from the Culinary. Marketing is paid up for the next year.”

Archimedes nodded and slowly lowered himself into the battered chair across from the desk. “All of the loose ends are neatly tied up, yes? You have poured much money into Mia Casa. We all have a role here. I guess this one was yours.”

His words ripped like a bullet and shredded flesh. Gavin leaned forward and drilled his father with his gaze. “Are we going to have one of these conversations again? When you tell me one thing but you really mean another? Just say it, Pop. I’ve disappointed you. I chose a different career than the family restaurant and you’ll never truly forgive me. Why don’t we just get it out there for once?”

All the surface niceties splintered beneath his father’s knowing gaze and it only made Gavin more pissed off. Pop studied him, and suddenly he was back in his youth. “You are wrong, Giovanni. You always have been. I will always support my children going after their dreams, as long as this makes them happy. You cannot run a restaurant with just money. You must love what you do and be passionate. Then it will be successful.”

“Bullshit. A restaurant needs money. It had you and Brando, while I was overseas and Mia Casa almost went bankrupt. So, how does heart play into it, Pop?”

“We needed you, Giovanni.”

He jerked back. “What did you say?”

His father smiled. “You are not happy any longer at your company. I heard this in your voice on the phone. I see it here every day. You lost yourself, but found your home again. Do you know the joy I see in you when you greet the customers or help Tony in the kitchen? You are a part of this place—in the brick and mortar—but you’ve just been afraid to admit it. Mia Casa is your home and your passion. You just needed to leave it in order to find it again.”

The room swayed under the gentle knowledge in his father’s eyes. He shook his head hard. “No, I lost my chance. This place belongs to Brando. It’s his inheritance now.”

“I have already spoken to Brando. He wants to go to college with Tracey. He needs to complete his degree, and then he will come back as well. You will run it together, as brothers. This has always been my goal.” Archimedes sighed and opened his hands in front of him. “You are so stubborn. Like your mama. Yes, your money helped put us back on course. But without you, its reputation will falter. Someone who has no love or stake in a place that makes food will never make a success. Brando is too young, and I am too old. This is your time, Giovanni. If you stay.”

“What if I fail? What if I leave a top-paying job, where I make sense, and find I’m not able to take Mia Casa to the next level?”

Archimedes shrugged. “Sinatra failed many times in his career. Then he got his big break in From Here to Eternity, but he wasn’t afraid to try. You must go after what you want, my son. And what about Miranda? Where does she fit into all of this? Are you ready to leave her?”

“I was going to take her with me. I think I can convince her. I love her, Pop. I don’t want to let her go.”

His father stripped away the last standing barrier, leaving him raw and naked. “Have you not learned? You left her, Giovanni. Forcing her to give up her home and career to follow you across the world gives her nothing. It is an easy decision for you. You lose nothing. You give nothing. Capisce?”

“No.”

Archimedes sighed. “As Sinatra sang in The Joker Is Wild, you must take a full risk. She must know you are willing to give all to love. All The Way. It is time to make a choice. No more half decisions or half commitments. Miranda Storme is worth more than that. She deserves a future, with bambinos and a man she can count on. What will happen after China? There will be another contract, and another trip. She will never know if she is enough.”

Gavin rubbed his forehead and tried to make sense of the sudden turn of events. His world tilted, then tipped over. The thought of waking up and running Mia Casa no longer made him shudder with the fear of containment.

He shuddered with longing.

A bone-deep knowledge pierced through the fog and exploded in his vision. He wanted to stay. He wanted to run Mia Casa, and deal with the family chaos and the chefs and the pain-in-the-ass customers. He wanted to build a life here.

And he wanted Miranda. He wanted to fight with her. Make up. Make love. Have babies. Grow old. And in his next life, he wanted to do it all over again. With her.

Dear God, he’d been a complete ass. Pop was right. He’d craved redemption from his prior actions, but never left his comfort zone. He threw money at the restaurant and figured it’d be enough. He threw out the deal for her to accompany him overseas like she should be grateful. Meanwhile, he gave nothing back. How easy. How pathetic.

Clarity slammed through him and shook his core. The whole time he urged Miranda to leave her fear behind and take a leap had been a big joke. It was he who needed to jump. Away from his past choices. Toward his real dream and future.

“Do you understand now, Giovanni? What I’ve been telling you?”

He opened his mouth but a knot of emotion lodged in his throat. He nodded.

Archimedes smiled. “It is your decision. You may go back. Or stay.”

Gavin sat for a while in silence. “Dad? What would Frank do?”

His father boomed out a laugh. “I think you know the answer to that.”

The decision had been made long ago, maybe the first time he’d laid eyes on his only love weeks ago. He’d just been too stubborn to accept the truth. “I’m staying, Pop. I’m going to buy a ring, ask Miranda to marry me, be a model for Brando, and make a success out of Mia Casa. For me. For all of us.”

Moisture swam in his father’s eyes. He inclined his head with an elegant grace. “A worthy decision, my son. Now go.”

“Thanks. I love you, Pop.”

He grabbed his keys off the desk and shot out the door.

…

“Hey Tony. Where’s Gavin?”

Miranda greeted the chef who was prepping for the lunch crowd. He wiped the sweat off his brow with his forearm and motioned toward the back. “Last time I saw him he was crunching numbers in the office.”

“Thanks.”

She made her way to his private office in the back. She quickly knocked on the door and pushed it open. “Gavin?”

Brando sat in the chair, staring at the computer screen. Slowly, he turned to face her. The devastation in his eyes slammed through her and she quickly moved forward. “Brando, are you okay? Did you and Tracey break up?”

“How could he do it again, Miranda?”

“Do what?”

He lifted his hands up in the air in true Italian style. “Leave us. Pop offered him a deal to stay here and run Mia Casa. I thought he’d changed. I thought he wanted—” A tirade of swear words peppered the room. “Doesn’t matter. The proof is here. Airline tickets to China leaving the end of the week. This will break Pop’s heart.”

Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Dread slithered and pumped through her blood like venom, except this time she wished she’d die a quicker death. He may love her. But not enough. Deep inside, he couldn’t fight the man he was. He’d never be able to settle down and run a family restaurant. He was meant for bigger things—travel, wealth, million-dollar deals.

Oh, she knew he’d ask her to go. Saying no would rip a part of her away she’d never regain. But chasing him around the world was not her Fate. Wondering when he’d had enough would eventually kill her. She wanted to put down deep roots and flower, with a heart full of trust for the man she loved.

He never lied. Never pretended he’d stay, just said simply he’d never abandon her. And he kept his promise. She had no one to blame but herself for hoping for more. The fairytale. The confession that he couldn’t leave, that he wanted to marry her and spend eternity here. That she was enough.

She was never enough.

The grief in his brother’s eyes broke her heart all over again. She knelt before him and took his hands. “We can’t make him stay.”

He sputtered. “Yes, we can. We’ll have a family meeting. This time, I’ll make him choose—us, or his lust to make a name for himself. We haven’t come this far to throw it all away now.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong, Brando. If he has a need to travel and see other places, we’ll never be able to keep him. All you’ll have is a shell of a man who hates his life. Neither of us want that anymore, do we?”

Brando squeezed her hands. “You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him.”

She sputtered out a half laugh. Oh, God, it hurt so bad. Her whole body ached, and she craved the ability to crawl under a blanket and refuse to move until she healed. But this time, it was on her terms, and her choice. She needed to be strong for both of them. Her voice shook. “Don’t say that. He’s a good man. He came back to make things right with you, with me. He admitted his weaknesses, and that’s what a strong man does. You can’t choose who you love.” She dragged in a breath. “Don’t tell him I know, Brando. Promise me. I want him to be the one to tell me.”

After a few moments, he nodded. “Okay.”

“Thanks. I gotta go.” She stumbled out the door as her reality broke into jagged pieces like a shattered mirror. Her feet hit the pavement as she walked block after block, the chilly city air hitting her face and burning her ears. She walked and thought of her options, raging against the unfairness of starting over. Of getting over him for the second time. Of letting him go without hate or fear or rage. This time, it would be different. She was different.

The possibilities sifted before her until she realized what she had to do. Something that would set him free. Something that might ruin what she worked so hard to build, but the gift was worth it. For the man she loved. For the man she had to let go.

Miranda made her decision and walked back to her office.

…

“Hey baby, everything all right?” Gavin held the phone tucked by his ear as he scrolled through the inventory lists. He’d been caught working late again, and after a hell of day, realized she never stopped by for dinner. His few texts weren’t answered. Just as he started to panic, she emailed him that she had a work function and would call him later. His relief was a complete embarrassment. As Brando now reminded him daily, he was completely whipped.

And loving every moment.

He picked up the velvet jewelers case and snapped open the lid. The perfect two-carat marquise diamond shimmered with an icy heat. He imagined it blinking on her finger. Imagined the moment he slipped it on and claimed her forever. Imagined her face when she uttered yes.

“I’m fine. Cocktails ran late, and I’m so tired I decided to have an early night.”

Her voice came out husky, yet subdued, and a strange flutter hit his gut. Almost like worry. But he pushed it aside and decided he needed to grow some balls. “Want some company? I can be there in an hour.”

He waited for her laugh or naughty phone sex breathing, but she hesitated. “Not tonight, Gavin. I hope that’s okay. I just need to sleep.”

He pushed away the hurt and told himself it was good for them to spend a night apart. “Sure, I understand. I do want to talk to you about something important. Can we have a quiet dinner tomorrow night around seven? I’ll take a few hours off.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

He shuffled some papers. “I don’t want to get into it right now. It’ll be better in person. No worries, though. Everything’s great.”

He winced at the weakness of the word. I want to propose to you and I’m scared shitless. Yeah, just great.

“Okay.”

A twitch ran down his spine. Something was off, but he didn’t know if he should push tonight or wait until tomorrow. Maybe she was exhausted and needed rest. God knows he’d kept her up the last few nights with extracurricular activities. “I love you. Get some sleep, baby.”

Her voice seemed to break on her final words. “I love you, too, Gavin. I always have.”

The phone clicked.

He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the phone. Her declaration had a terrible foreboding trapped within the words, almost as if she was saying good-bye.

Gavin shook off the worry and re-focused on his spreadsheet. He had inventory problems, and he needed to solve them tonight. He reached for his mug of strong coffee and got back to work.