back into the house, leaving me alone in the cold.
I was close—so close. Gabriel and his fucking mood swings.
23
Alexis
“Mingo!” Harry cries, smacking his hands against the carpet. “I want Mingo!”
I have torn the nursery and my bedroom apart looking for the goddamn stuffed flamingo, and I have turned up nothing. I don’t understand where it could be. If we leave any toys in the other rooms of the house, the housekeepers always bring them back up here and tuck them away in Harry’s toy chest. But the flamingo isn’t there.
“I’m looking, buddy,” I huff. “Are you sure one of your other toys won’t appease you for now?”
“I want Mingo!”
Harry has grown more and more demanding in recent months. I can’t tell whether it’s his father’s influence or if being a controlling asshole is just in his genes. Either way, I can’t wait for his teenage years. Those will be a barrel of laughs.
“We don’t always get what we want, kid.” I pull back the crib to look behind it, loose hairs from my ponytail sticking to the sweat on my forehead. “Maybe now’s the right time for you to learn that.”
I push the crib back and look at Harry, who is sitting on the floor in an adorable giraffe onesie, his lips puckered, eyes welling with tears. He breaks my heart sometimes. I can tell that when he’s older, he’s going to break a lot of hearts.
I squat down to his level and am about to pull him in for a hug when I remember something. I remember the last place I saw Mingo.
“Come on, you big baby.” I pull Harry into my arms and stand. “Let’s go see your daddy.”
I head out of the nursery, a little nervous about the idea of seeing Gabriel during the day. For the past couple of weeks, since I tried and failed to get him to open up to me, things have been hot and cold to the extreme between us. Sometimes I will go days without seeing him. Sometimes I will wake to him pressing fiery kisses up and down my body, and we’ll fuck like animals and fall asleep in each other’s’ arms—though he is always gone when I wake.
We haven’t talked about the idea of making this “real” again. Hell, we haven’t done much talking, period. I don’t know if the subject is dead forever or if Gabriel just needs time to come around to it, but either way, I can’t wait for him. I’ve been following leads with a couple of dockworkers for my article, but I’m coming up with loose ends. I’ve ignored the last two phone calls from Debbie, though I will not be so stupid as to ignore the third. I just hope I have something to tell her by then.
We reach Gabriel’s door and I knock, hoisting Harry further up my hip.
“Come in.”
I enter, pasting on a hopeful smile. “Hey.”
Gabriel looks up from where he is writing something in a small, black leather-bound book on his desk. As I approach, I see it is a diary. I try not to stare at it, realizing that whatever is written in there could be vital evidence. Best not to let him know I’ve noticed.
My eyes find Gabriel’s instead. He smiles a little as Harry calls out, “Dada!”
“We’re on the case of the missing Mingo,” I explain, stopping in front of the desk. “The last time I saw him was when Harry was in here last week.”
Though he hasn’t been spending all that much time with me, Gabriel has been spending more and more time with Harry. Sometimes during the day, he will bring him in his office to play while he works. He says he finds it soothing.
Gabriel and I both look around, but nothing seems out of place. He rolls back and glances under his desk.
“Ah,” he says. “Found him.”
Gabriel ducks under his desk to grab the stuffed flamingo and I leap on the opportunity to peek at his diary. It’s open to next week. I bend over, eyes frantically scanning each of the days. I can see he was halfway through an entry about a board meeting next Thursday. He’s meeting with Carmen on Tuesday. Gabriel starts to straighten just as my eyes scan the golden entry.
Scrawled under Friday is Dock Meet – 14:00.
Bingo.
I rip my eyes from the page just as Gabriel looks up, handing me the toy. Harry squeals appreciatively, chanting, “Mingo, Mingo!”
“Thanks,” I say, taking it from him. “He wouldn’t shut up