about it.”
Gabriel’s lips tick a little. Almost a smile. “Anytime.”
I turn to leave, but Gabriel’s voice stops me at the door.
“You remember that we’re going out this afternoon, right?” he asks.
I look back. “Yeah, I know.”
Gabriel’s taking Harry and me out on his yacht. Another publicity move, I figure. We’ll get some wholesome images of the family at sea.
“Good. I’ll see you then,” he says.
And I will see a version of him, the version I will probably never get for real. Despite knowing that he layers on the charm as an act when we’re in those situations, I can’t help but look forward to it.
As for his meeting at the dock … I don’t know how I will get there, or what I’ll do about the four-pack of guards that is meant to accompany me anytime I leave the house, but I need to be there. I have a feeling that will be where it all ends.
The sun shines brightly in the azure sky above but provides scant warmth, and what little does radiate down is swiftly stripped away by the salty breeze. I wrap my wool cardigan closer around myself and shiver. Gabriel seems unaffected, and looks uncharacteristically casual in a pair of light chinos and a thick blue sweater. I have dressed Harry in a pair of little matching chinos and a blue-and-white striped nautical sweater. I figure whatever photographers and reporters are meeting us out here will appreciate it.
Only I don’t see any reporters or photographers as we approach the yacht, a two-hundred-foot monstrosity that sits high on the water like a sleek white daydream, the name La Belle Vita proudly emblazoned on the side. I only see security, and Vito, who welcomes us aboard with a jaunty smile.
“I can’t believe this is the first time he’s taken you out on this thing,” Vito comments. “Corie and I used to borrow it all the time before Nuri came along.”
Corie is Vito’s wife, who I keep asking him to bring over some time. It would be nice to have another girl to chat to, especially one who knows all about Vito and Gabriel’s dark dealings. Plus I’m sure Harry and Nuri would get along like a house on fire.
“I can’t believe it either,” I say, craning my neck to look into the cabin.
I still can’t see anyone.
“What are you looking for?” Gabriel asks.
“The cameras,” I reply.
He frowns, his brow sinking toward his nose. “What cameras? We’re just going out for a pleasure cruise.”
My cheeks flush and I am suddenly glad for the bracing sea air. I had not considered that this would be a family outing, and nothing more. I prepared to wear a fake smile and answer questions about what Gabriel was like as a father and whether he was the kind of man who left clothes strewn all over the floor. I wasn’t prepared for genuine interaction. I am suddenly very nervous.
“Right,” I say. “Of course.”
I climb aboard ahead of Gabriel, staring out at the gray, choppy waves. Gabriel comes beside me and takes a deep breath.
“Vito’s right,” he says. “We should come out here more. The sea air feels good.”
I follow his lead and inhale deeply, the briny air swirling deep in my lungs. I look up at him and smile. “I would like that.”
Harry tucks his head in the crook of Gabriel’s shoulder, tired from his long day of antagonizing me over a stuffed flamingo. I reach up and stroke his silky cheek. Gabriel watches me, his free hand gliding over my hip and pulling me closer.
Behind us, the men take their positions on the ship and the captain calls out orders, but that seems to fade into the background as we take this small, private moment as a family. I think this outing is going to be exactly what we need.
The engine comes to life and the deck rumbles. Gabriel pats my back.
“Come on,” he says. “I want to show you something.”
He leads me into the cabin and down a set of stairs to a cozy saloon. The room is outfitted with a long white leather sofa and there is a small kitchen at the far end. There is a playpen off to the side of the couch, already filled with shiny new toys. A long window on the portside shows the deep blue of the sky above and the glittering sea stretching out as far as the eye can see.
“Sit,” Gabriel instructs, setting Harry into the playpen.
I do as he says and