Corrupted Queen - Nicole Fox Page 0,53
and breaking the somewhat tense atmosphere.
Gabriel and I both laugh, and he leans over to plant the straw in the top of the juice box, handing it over to Harry just as the server comes back in with our meals. I find myself hoping to hell that there’s something normal on the plates—not squib or caviar, and for the love of God, please not escargot—but I am pleasantly surprised. The lunch is a simple spaghetti carbonara with pancetta, albeit elegantly presented.
“I borrowed the chef from Roots,” Gabriel tells me as he starts to cut Harry’s noodles. “I know how much you like his food.”
Gabriel took me to Roots months ago, the night I found out that he was a Mafia don, rather than just a billionaire with a temper. It was also the first night I met Andrew Walsh. Considering the significance of both those events, it’s probably absurd that I remember that night most of all for the lamb-shank ravioli. But hell, it was sensational.
I am suddenly eager to dive into my meal. I’m also touched at Gabriel’s thoughtful gesture.
“Thank you,” I say as I take my first bite.
My eyes flutter closed in bliss as the flavors melt on my tongue.
“Oh yeah,” I groan. “This is the good shit.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Gabriel grins wickedly. “I find it entertaining how weird you get with food.”
My eyes flick open. “I don’t get weird with food.”
“What was it you said about the ravioli at Roots?” he asks, tapping his chin. “Ah yes—I’m not just enjoying it, I’m composing love ballads to it.”
I can’t believe he remembers that.
I blink back my surprise and form my retort. “Anybody who doesn’t have that reaction is lying to themselves.”
Gabriel’s eyes glow with mirth. “Relax. I’m just saying that it’s refreshing to watch how much you enjoy things that others take for granted.”
His gaze is warm, and my belly flutters. I look down at my plate so he doesn’t see me blush. Gabriel leans over and continues cutting Harry’s food, and suddenly this feels like a real family meal, without the complications of mob wars and duplicity and purple heroin. It feels good.
Emboldened by the intimacy of the moment, I clear my throat. “Is this what you always wanted, Gabriel?”
He pauses and looks up at me, one eyebrow cocked. “What do you mean?”
“This.” I gesture around us, at the elaborate curved candlesticks and the glinting silver trays. “You told me once that your career was a combination of obligation and ambition. At the time I just thought you were a CEO. Now that I know the truth, I wonder if you would have chosen differently had obligation not been a factor.”
“If I’d been given a choice in whether to enter into criminal enterprise, you mean?” he asks, lifting a spoonful of carefully sliced noodles to Harry’s mouth.
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.” Harry gobbles up the noodles and Gabriel dips the spoon again. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever known, I don’t know how to answer that. I’ve never thought about a different life if that’s what you mean. Or, at least, I hadn’t until …” He trails off, eyes flicking to mine and then back to our hungry toddler.
Gabriel quickly flips the question back to me. “And you? If you had known that your father was not the white knight you thought him to be, would you have put less pressure on yourself to save the world?”
“Yes,” I admit. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret the path I chose, but I chose it because I wanted my father to be proud of me. I had two favorite classes in university. One was on the history of modern journalism, the other was on Dickens. I read Our Mutual Friend about half a dozen times that semester, even though I had more than enough other reading I needed to do. For a minute, I found myself wanting to be a teacher. I imagined going through the intricacies of the plot with my own students, having them examine the satire and write reports on the themes of corruption and self-realization.”
“What happened?” His eyes have brightened with interest.
I shrug and look down at my plate, poking the noodles with my fork. “I told my dad.”
“What did he say?”
“He just said ‘teaching is a noble profession,’ but it was how he said it that bothered me. It was like he thought it was beneath me.” I hear footsteps approach and suddenly a crisp-looking woman and a man holding a camera breeze into the