Page 47 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)
Chapter
Forty-Six
Taylor
Having been paid with a thick envelope of cash, I have every intention of walking to my car and going home. And yet I find myself at the VIP entrance of the club.
If I were here looking for Gavin, that would be really dumb. Good thing I’m here for the free buffet.
Yeah, that’s it.
Flashing my ring girl credentials, I get into the roped-off area and take a look around. Oh no. Mia’s bounding over.
“Taylor, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you—”
“Not because of my car’s extended warranty?” I say deadpan.
“What?”
“That was a joke. Never mind.” Gavin would’ve got that one, but oh yeah, he’s a little pussy that ghosted me. Now that I think about it, I do have a horrible track record of picking emotionally unavailable partners.
Realizing Mia’s said something, I ask her, “Sorry, what was that?”
“The dealers at the Diamond, they said you put in your notice,” Mia repeats.
“Yep,” I say, popping the p again. Why, I don’t know. I’m not a p popper.
“I need to talk to Gavin,” she tells me quietly.
“Good luck with that.” I walk off.
“Wait!” Mia catches up with me. “My cousin’s missing, and I need answers,” she whispers.
“Sorry, I don’t have any answers to give you.” Everyone keeps asking me, and dammit, I don’t have any answers.
“Gavin was pressed about the family, and I’m afraid he got my cousin killed,” she whispers.
“If you keep digging, you’ll get yourself killed,” I warn her quietly. “Those people don’t play around.”
“Are you with Gavin?” Mia eyes me.
I bristle, prickly as Bonnie’s needles. “Why do you care?”
“Taylor, I made a mistake. I miss you.” She touches my arm.
“Go fuck with your ‘just friends’ co-worker and leave me alone.” I spin on my heel and march off.
Joining the buffet line to have something to do other than be around Mia, my shoulder gets a light tap. “Yes?” I turn around, finding a beautiful blonde woman in her early forties; she’s dressed in a killer suit and a pair of heels.
“Hi there. I was wondering about your round signs. A little birdie told me you’re the artist?”
I smile politely. “Yes, I’m the artist.”
“You’re very talented,” she gushes.
“Thank you.” My smile brightens. “I’ve seen you at bouts. You’re the ringside doc, right?”
“I am. Forgive me, my name’s Effie.”
“Taylor.”
“Taylor, would you be interested in painting for an event?” she asks.
“Maybe. What kind of event?”
“Are you comfortable with nude models?”
“Sure.” I mean, I’ve never actually painted a nude model, save for Gavin, but that was from memory. Regardless, I have no problem painting the human form.
“I help run adult-themed parties, and I’d love to have you there painting at our party tomorrow night.”
She tells me the pay for the event, and I blurt out, “I’m in.”
She smiles. “Wonderful. I’ll be in touch.”
Only after the woman’s gone do I realize I didn’t give her my contact information.
Maybe Gavin knows her. Maybe Gavin fucked her.
Jealousy burns beneath my skin, but I shake it off as I reach the front of the line and fill my plate, ignoring the sushi.
“Hey, Taylor, right?” Mia’s coworker sidles up beside me.
“Yeah,” I say, scanning the room for a place to sit.
“I hear you’re down to party. Why don’t you, me, and Mia go back to my place and have a little fun?” His hand slides over the curve of my ass.
Gavin appears, jerking me behind him as his fist connects with the guy’s nose.
“Ahhh!” The guy’s head snaps back on a squeal, his hands moving to cover his gushing nose; a nose that’s noticeably crooked now.
“Touch my girl again, and no plastic surgeon will be able to save your face.”
The guy sprints away.
“You don’t think I could’ve handled it?” I tell Gavin hotly, all the while telling my ovaries to stay out of this.
“Know you could have, man-eater, but doesn’t mean I won’t protect—”
“Your girl? Huh, that’s interesting, considering you ghosted me when things got a little too real,” I spit.
Gavin holds up his hands. “I fucked up, but that doesn’t mean you’re not my girl. People fuck up in relationships, right?”
My eyebrow lifts. “Are you telling me, or asking me?”
“I don’t know.” He rubs the top of his head. “Taylor, baby, cut me some slack.”
“Are you going to be completely honest with me?” I demand.
He remains silent.
“Bye, Gavin.”
I turn to walk off, but squeal as I’m lifted from my feet, now dangling over his shoulder. My plate clatters to the floor. “Gavin, put me down!”
He marches us through the employee-only area to his dressing room. Scanning his key card, he carries me inside, placing me on my feet.
My jaw drops when I see it.
Gavin
Taylor’s eyes land on her painting, Madness’s Muse. “You bought it,” she says softly.
“I wasn’t gonna let someone else snatch up what’s mine. I’m still not gonna let someone else snatch up what’s mine.” I look at her pointedly.
She kicks off her heels, sitting as she tucks her feet beneath her. “Come here.” She pats the spot beside her on the couch.
I take a seat, my leg bouncing wildly. Feeling like I can’t look at her while I say this, my head falls into my hands. “You called me a good boy. That’s what set me off.”
“I’m sorry,” she says gently.
“Don’t be. You had no way to know.”
“Know what?” Taylor asks.
“You remember me telling you about my old coach and his wife? I lied to you about never being in a relationship. My only one was with her.”
“How old were you?”
I lift my head, daring to sneak a peek at her. “It started when I was thirteen.”
“How old was she?” Taylor presses.
“Thirty.”
“Gavin,” she says my name so gently it fucking hurts, lacing her fingers with mine. “That wasn’t a relationship; that was abuse.”