Page 10 of Forever & Always You
“Because I’m not involved with anyone,” I tell her, setting down my wine and pushing back from the table.
There’s definitely some visible fear in my expression, because the only man who could possibly show up asking for me at this moment in time is Austin, unless Buck has followed me home from Durham to beg me to come back to the bar.
“He says his name is Austin.”
Ah, crap. What could he possibly want?
Zach’s interest is piqued. “Austin? As in scruffy Austin from the hellholes across the street?”
“Hey. Don’t call him that,” I warn.
“That’s what you used to call him.”
Humiliation grips me like a vise. I’ve already looked back at my behavior when I was young, and I agree that yes, I was a raging bitch in high school, and no, I am absolutely not proud of it. The worst part? My friendship with Austin was pure and genuine—I just didn’t want anyone else to know.
“Oh, I don’t think this is that Austin. This man is wearing a very nice suit,” Mom murmurs.
She refers to him with such disdain, like that Austin was nothing more than dirt on her shoe. And growing up, that’s exactly what he and his family were to her. She despised that I dared ever cross the street to begin with, let alone befriend one of “them”. Mom has serious deep-rooted issues.
“It is that Austin,” I say, and her jaw immediately drops. “Austin Pierce. Has his own firm downtown now.”
Mom and Zach exchange surprised looks, but I leave him to deal with her snide remarks without me as I head down the hall with my pulse racing at a million miles an hour.
Austin waits patiently on the doorstep, the golden orange of the early evening sun blinding me over his shadowed figure.
He must have driven here immediately after work, because he’s still in the same suit from earlier, his car parked at the foot of the drive.
I don’t even want to acknowledge how surprisingly nice and subtle his cologne still is as I draw near. How does he still smell so good?
“You are one brave man stepping foot on my mother’s property when she never used to let you come beyond the drive.”
A smile creeps through Austin’s neutral, unreadable expression. “I get the impression she didn’t quite register who I was when she opened the door.”
“She didn’t.” I glance over my shoulder, and although I know Mom and Zach can’t overhear us from the dining room, I still step outside to join Austin and pull the door closed behind me.
“Why are you here? Have you changed your mind and decided you do want me to cover the cost of the damages, after all?”
“I’m not here about the table, Gabrielle.”
I screw my eyes together with suspicion, waiting for him to explain his unexpected and unpredictable appearance, because honestly, I have no idea why else he would have come all the way over here. And I really wish he’d stop using my full name so formally.
“So, are you going to tell me why you’re here or are we going to stand here in silence forevermore? Because if so, I’d like to get back to eating my salmon.”
Austin scoffs. “Of course you’re eating salmon. Delivered personally straight out of the sea. Is there an in-house chef these days?”
“Okay, bye bye,” I say, reaching for the door.
Austin clasps my wrist. “Gabrielle, wait.”
My gaze drops to his hand, his touch light but secure. My heart decides to cut me a break from its hammering and skips a beat or two instead.
“I came here,” he says, clearing his throat, “because I found this.”
Releasing his grip on my arm, he tucks his hand into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and retrieves a small, folded piece of paper. He holds it up between his index and middle finger, raising an eyebrow. Yeah, fuck.
“It was on the floor beneath my desk,” he explains. “Is that why you came to me today? Because of some note we wrote together when we were kids?”
I try to snatch it from him, but his movements are quicker. He steps backward and unfolds the creased paper, running his eyes over the silly little words we wrote together. My cheeks blaze with heat.
He lifts his gaze from the paper, his piercing blue eyes finding mine. “After everything you did, you think this actually means something?”
I swallow hard, and my voice is nothing more than a quiet squeak when I ask, “Doesn’t it?”
“Oh, Gabby,” he says, my name laced with pity.
To my disbelief, right in front of my face, he tears the note crisply down its center.
“If only you were someone I actually wanted to be best friends with forever, then maybe it would mean something. But the Gabby I wrote this note with? Not the same Gabby I knew in the end.”
It shouldn’t sting as much as it does, but ouch. My only saving grace is that I’m self-aware enough to agree with his last statement and I won’t embarrass myself further by justifying my actions to him, so I simply nod in solemn acceptance.
“I don’t blame you for coming here to tear the note up in front of me,” I say, “but for complete clarity, I didn’t show up at your office expecting you to be my best friend again. I want to fix my mistakes, and the way I treated you? That was my worst.”
The front door cracks open, breaking our eye contact.
“Is everything okay out here?” Mom asks, and it is not out of concern, but out of nosiness.
“God, Mom, privacy?”
“We’re all good, Mrs. McKinley,” Austin says, way more polite than I am. “Just catching up.”
Mom does not return the smile he gives her. She looks to me with a disapproving frown instead. “Your dinner is getting cold. Will you please come back inside and join us?”
“I’ll come back inside when I’m ready,” I say sharply, because for fuck’s sake, I am not a child. This is why I never come home.
Mom tuts and shuts the door with a very dignified, gentle slam. Austin can’t stifle his laugh.
“Your mother hasn’t changed for as long as I’ve known her. She never did like me.”
“The real estate values, Austin,” I whine. “Think of the real estate values! How dare you exist in our vicinity!”
“You’d think I’d built those apartment blocks with my own bare hands, the way she hated me.”
We exchange laughter, but it quickly fades. There are these brief moments when the conversation feels natural, unstilted. No tension lingering between our words, just the hint of a former friendship finding its way through.
I look beyond Austin, over to the housing project across the street.
It looks worse now than it did before, the building succumbing to years of extreme weather and a lack of maintenance.
It was apparent this morning when I saw the random man on their balcony that the Pierces no longer live there these days. Good for them.
“What are you doing tonight?” Austin asks.
“I was going to head back to my apartment in Durham, but I’ve started on the wine, so .?.?.” I shrug.
“I thought you said your pipes burst.”
“They did.”
“And are they fixed?”
“No.”
“Then you definitely aren’t going back to Durham yet.”
I cock my head to the side. “Excuse me?”
“Let’s hit the bar,” Austin suggests. “Drinks on me. Sounds like you’ve been having a rough week, and I don’t imagine you want to spend all evening with your mom, do you?”
I stare at him, gauging his motives. Didn’t he just tear up that note in front of me and tell me I wasn’t someone he’d want to be friends with? Quite simply, I tell him, “I’m so confused. You want to go for drinks with me now?”
“I’m not opposed to hearing your attempt at an apology,” he says, “but I’m going to need some booze before I listen to it.”
“Really?”
He tucks the torn pieces of paper back into the pocket of his suit. “Really.”
“Where?”
“Remember that little dive bar around the corner from the rec center? I’m going to head down there right now and get started, because I’d prefer to be semi-wasted before you show up.
” He smirks, but I refrain from rolling my eyes because I’m just grateful he is willing to hear me out and I don’t want to push my luck too much.
Austin retreats from me, heading backward down the steps, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Go finish your fancy salmon and you’ll find me down there. ”
“Tequila shots on standby?”
“Obviously. You’re the most annoying mumbler in the world when you’re nervous and I’ll need something strong to numb the pain of enduring it.”
This time, when his smile stretches further, I do roll my eyes.