Page 2 of Desired By you (Always & Forever #3)

Chapter One

Gabriella

“… not sure what time I’ll be back, but I’ll text you. It’s chaos here. Diana is ready to rip someone a new one.” Ali’s exasperated voice booms through my car’s Bluetooth as I drive.

I chuckle. “No worries. God only knows how long this dinner with my parents at the country club will take. Apparently, they have a surprise for me.” My tone is mocking.

“Let’s hope it’s not like the last surprise when they tried to set you up with that dud, Adam.

” I shiver at the memory. Adam was, without a doubt, the most boring man I’d ever met.

My big toe holds more charisma than he has in his entire body.

He just sat there, talking about his retirement plans and the problem with today’s society—that we are all about living for the here and now and don’t plan for our futures.

Riveting date conversation. I felt bad as my parents really believed he was a great match, so I said it was a mutual thing and we just didn’t vibe.

“Oh, God, don’t remind me.” I sigh.

“Babe, I better go. Diana is on the warpath. Have fun, love you, bye.”

“Love you, bye,” I repeat before hitting the call end button on the screen of my Lexus.

A gift from my parents. A gift, like all gifts, came with strings.

I was to meet for weekly, sometimes twice weekly, meals.

They were less than thrilled when I moved in with Ali, aged eighteen, when I attended Juilliard.

My parents wanted me to remain at home where they could keep me safe, which was actually code for, control my life.

So, for the past six years, I have done the hour drive to see them for dinner.

In my mind, it’s been a small price to pay for the freedom I have gained since living with Ali and truthfully, it helps ease the guilt I feel over what happened when I was a teen.

I pull into the country club entrance, glancing out the window at the golf course that surrounds the club, that familiar burn of anxiety hitting the back of my throat at the idea of seeing my parents.

I won’t see them for a while as we are away next week for Ria’s bachelorette weekend.

So, all I need to do is smile and nod and make it through the next few hours.

Parking up, I exit my car, taking my purse, and handing my keys to the valet guy.

I smile sweetly and make my way through the large automatic door, heading straight for the ladies’ bathroom to freshen up before meeting my parents.

The bathroom is white with gold accents and the smell of lilies fills the air as I scurry into the stall before anyone can see me.

Sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, I take off my tennis shoes and swap them for the black pumps I keep in my purse.

My mother despises my casual look, as she calls it, so I make sure to wear my best clothes and heels whenever I see her.

Making my way out of the stall and to the basin, I take out my favorite nude lipstick from my purse, coating my lips before puckering them.

I’ve never been big on makeup. I’ve always had naturally long lashes, thick dark hair, and olive skin, thanks to my dad’s Spanish roots.

I smooth a hand over my head, making sure not a hair is out of place in my sleek ponytail.

I take a few seconds to look at my reflection, analyzing if there is anything my mother or father could disapprove of.

I’ve paired a simple white blouse with a beige tweed skirt, a skirt I hate, but it’s Catherine Monroe approved.

As I wash my hands, that familiar thump-thump of my heart returns.

Seeing my parents always stirs up a level of anxiety that I find difficult to control.

With shaky hands, I take a towel and dry them so vigorously my skin begins to sting.

I toss the towel in the hamper, and with all the strength I can muster, I head out towards the members’ lounge.

The minute I enter the vast room, I spot my mother, and a lead weight drops into the pit of stomach when I notice it’s not just her and my dad.

With every step I take, my heart rate picks up and the urge to flee intensifies.

Just before I can even think of a swift getaway plan, my mother waves me down with an enthusiastic arm.

“Gabriella, darling, over here,” she practically purrs.

I head for my mother, leaning down to kiss her cheek, her Coco Chanel perfume invading my nostrils, making me feel a little queasy. It should be a comforting smell as it’s all my mother has worn since I can remember, but that scent drags up feelings of failure, disappointment, and inadequacy.

“Mom, lovely to see you.” My dad rises to his feet, buttoning up his suit jacket to greet me, making me feel like I’m a business associate, an acquaintance, not his daughter.

He gives me a half-hearted hug and a kiss to the cheek, then follows up with pulling out my chair next to my mother, and I dutifully take my seat, my eyes widening when I settle on the three unfamiliar faces sitting across from us.

“Hello,” I say hesitantly.

“Darling, do you remember me telling you about Janet and Carl?”

No

“Oh yes,” I reply in a way my parents would expect me to.

“and this is their wonderful son, Patrick.” My eyes turn and lock on the tall blond guy who’s sitting next to his dad.

He looks like he belongs on the cover of a magazine.

He has the whole prep school vibe going on.

Big blue eyes, dirty blond hair, and a smile that looks like it cost a fortune.

Just like every other guy my mother has tried to set me up with.

Here we go again.

He leans up out of his seat and extends an arm across the table, and, like I’ve been brought up to do, I return the gesture.

“Pleasure to meet you.” I smile as I shake his hand.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says, with a hint of flirtation in his voice.

“Janet and I thought you and Patrick would really hit it off. He’s living in New York, working at Braxton Law Firm. Isn’t that wonderful, Gabriella?”

“Wow, that is wonderful,” I say, matching her tone. “That must be a demanding job. I can’t imagine there’s much time for a social life,” I reply, hoping someone might get the hint.

I feel my father’s glare on me without even having to move my head. My father has this incredible talent for being able to convey exactly what he thinks without uttering a word, and I know he doesn’t appreciate my underlying comment.

“It is, but I make time for those who are important to me,” Patrick replies, obviously not getting my tone. I want to roll my eyes, but I refrain. Instead, I reach for my glass of water and take a sip.

“Gabriella, your mother tells us you are working as an accountant. That must keep you busy,” Janet says.

She’s mid-fifties, at a guess, with short, light brown hair that’s graying around her temples, pulled back from her head with a ghastly-looking headband, and like my mother, she wears a set of delicate pearls around her neck and a brown tweed jacket.

That’s not what I do anymore, I internally scream. But instead, I reply saying,

“Yes, very busy, but I enjoy it, so it doesn’t feel like work.

What’s the saying? Find something you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.

” The table falls into polite laughter and I glance over at my parents, who are beaming with pride, so I know I’ve done my part.

I’ve played the role of the dutiful, hardworking, charismatic daughter; someone worthy of parading about like a new purse.

The next two hours feel like five. I sit and listen to Carl drone on about his golf score, the latest case he was working on, and then, when Patrick chimes in to share his thoughts on the current stock market, I want to stab myself in the ear with my dessert fork.

Get me out of here.

Sure, there is nothing wrong with Patrick. He is good looking and polite. He just doesn’t have much about him. He is as bland as the salad we had for our starter.

I check my watch, noticing the time, and use that as my window to get the heck out of here before Suzanne starts talking about her book club again. Don’t get me wrong, I love a good book, but something tells me Suzanne doesn’t read what I read.

“Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry, I better head out. I don’t want to be driving back to the city too late.”

“Of course, darling,” my mother says, glass of red wine in hand. “You get going, your dad will walk you out to the valet.” Before my dad can answer, Patrick stands.

“I’ll walk her out to her car, Mrs. Monroe.” The smile on my mother’s face makes me want to roll my eyes and dry heave. She really thinks she’s picked a good one here. My mother loves nothing more than to play matchmaker.

“Well, isn’t that sweet of you, Patrick. Thank you. Gabriella would love that.”

Gabriella can speak for herself.

I want to say no, but I have the good sense to agree and say my goodbyes before walking side by side with Patrick to the valet area.

“I’m sorry if you felt ambushed tonight.

I didn’t realize myself till you walked in that it was clearly a setup,” Patrick says shyly, which catches me off guard.

He seemed so confident and self-assured at the table and I wonder if he feels the need to act a certain way in his parents' presence the same way I do.

“It’s fine. I had a lovely evening,” I lie, but it’s not his fault. If his parents are like mine, I feel sorry for the guy.

I hand over my ticket to the valet. I turn to face Patrick.

Most women would go weak at the knees for his white teeth and dazzling blue eyes, but he just doesn’t do it for me.

I’m not sure if it’s the defiant girl within me who’s decided she hates Patrick just to piss off her parents, or if he just isn’t my type.

But I wouldn’t know, because I’ve never allowed myself to do what I want.

I am forever trying to please my parents, to make up for my mistakes.

I almost sag in relief when my car pulls up. “Well, this is me. Thanks for walking me out.”

Patrick scratches the back of his head awkwardly, worrying his bottom lip with his top teeth. “It’s no trouble. So, do you think I could get your number and take you out to dinner sometime soon?”

I still, a little caught off guard that he wants to keep up this charade. “I am, erm, I’m away next week.”

“How about before you go?” he suggests.

Like the good girl I am, I reply, “Yeah sure, that would be great.”

He hands me his phone and I type in my number before handing it back.

Our fingers gently brush and I feel nothing, not a thing.

Maybe I’m broken, or maybe it’s nerves, maybe it’s been this whole night, and how cornered I felt, but I’m not attracted to this man.

But will I tell my parents that? Like hell I will.

I’ll lie and say I had a great time, that Patrick was the perfect gentleman, and he’s taking me out to dinner.

Taking my keys from the valet, I thank him before I round my car. Patrick follows, opening my car door. I sit inside, pressing the button and lowering the window as he closes my door.

“I’ll call you,” he says will another mega-watt smile.

“Great, I-I look forward to it,” I manage to get out.

“Drive safely.”

I smile and nod as he steps away, and then I pull away from the curb, not giving Patrick a second glance in my mirror.

Sagging in relief, I drive further away from the country club, wondering what the heck that was. My mother has hit a new low tonight. She’s suggested I date many of her friends’ sons over the years, but she never has ambushed me like that.

A mixture of anger and frustration courses through me, and I know I need to rid this feeling from my body.

I glance at the clock and do the math: I’ll just make it if I floor it back to the city.

Yes, that’s exactly what I need—my go to way to unwind and release tension.

I crank the stereo, music blasting through the speakers, and I press my foot firmer on the pedal.

The anxiety that filled my body slowly dissipates the closer I get to the city, to my secret place, where I feel authentically and unapologetically myself.