Tangled Destinies

He laughed, delighted. He sat with his face propped in his hands, staring at her worshipfully. He had a pleasant face, Gaby thought. It wouldn’t stop traffic, and it wasn’t as hard and chiseled as Marc’s, but it was nice all the same. He’d really blossomed in the few weeks she’d known him, and he hadn’t acted jealous since the night of Marc’s party. He kidded with her. He seemed to enjoy her company, but he’d apparently decided not to push their relationship any further than that. She was glad; she had nothing more to give him.

“Well, I’m no ladies’ man,” Joe confessed. “But I’m rich and good-lookin’ and overstocked with charm.”

“You forgot to mention how modest you are,” she prompted.

“Yeah, that too. I’m extremely modest.”

She burst out laughing. “You nice man, you.”

“I try, I try. How about dinner tonight?”

She smiled at him. “Sure, but you’ve taken me out so many times already. Why don’t you come to the house for dinner about five and you can meet my dad.”

“Taking me home to the old man, huh? Well, I guess I can survive. Okay.”

“You’ll like Dad. He’s nice too.”

“He’d have to be, to have a lovely daughter like you.” He chuckled at the face she made. “Five, then.”

“I’ll be ready,” she promised, and wondered what Marc would have to say when Joe told him, as Joe certainly would.

Her father was more nervous than she’d ever seen him that night when Joe arrived promptly at five.

“Hello, hello, so nice to meet you,” he said, acting flustered and shaking hands with the younger man. “I’m glad you could come.”

Gabrielle smoothed down her white sundress and studied her father with a frown, curious at his lack of poise, his red cheeks. It wasn’t like him to be upset by company.

“What can I get you to drink?” he asked, leading them into the spacious living room.

“I’ll just have some Perrier,” Gabrielle said. “Joe?”

“Vodka and soda,” Joe returned. He sat down beside her on the sofa while Jack Bennett poured their drinks. “You have a beautiful home,” Joe remarked, glancing around the expensively furnished room.

“My wife’s, not mine,” Jack said, smiling as he dropped into an armchair across from them. “She was very talented.”

“She died several months ago,” Gabrielle volunteered, staring into her glass. She smiled. “She was quite a lady, wasn’t she, Dad?”

He nodded, and the nervousness seemed to go as he sipped his own drink. “Yes, she was. A little naive in some ways but charming.” He glanced at Gaby. “How’s the modeling coming along?”

“Ask me,” Joe said, chuckling. He winked at Gaby. “She’s doing just great. We’ll sell millions of dollars’ worth of stuff, all because of Gaby. I couldn’t be more pleased about having her represent us.”

“Uh, how does your brother feel about it?” Jack asked suddenly.

Joe shrugged. “Marc doesn’t bother to acquaint me with his feelings. He hasn’t said a word about the ad campaign. Well, maybe one word,” he added, and he looked guilty.

“He tried to have me thrown out, I imagine,” Gaby said, taking a shot in the dark and watching Joe clear his throat as if he’d choked himself on his drink.

“It was nothing personal,” he said quickly, his dark eyes apologetic. “He just thought we should have a blonde.”

“I could always have dyed my hair,” she reminded him, grinning.

“Of course.”

Jack got up quickly and announced that dinner was waiting, as if he felt the sudden tension and was determined to obliterate it. They talked about politics and taxes all through the delicious meal Jack’s cook had prepared, and what had begun as a trying evening became a jovial one.

“Come again anytime,” Jack said when Joe was about to leave. “Glad to have you.”

“Thanks,” Joe replied, shaking hands at the door. “I enjoyed it.”

“So did I. I’ll say good night,” he added with a grin, and went upstairs.

She walked out the door with Joe in silence, and he seemed to be brooding about something as they stood beside his Mercedes convertible on the street. “I wanted to ask you something,” he began.

“Yes?” She smiled up at him.

“I wanted to invite you out to the Hamptons with me,” he said. “We—the family, that is—have a beach house there. It’s nice and private, and we’re having a few people down for the July Fourth holidays. I’d like you to come as my guest.”

Her heart stopped. “You and Marc, you mean,” she asked bluntly.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. He stuck his hands in his pockets with a rough sigh. “Don’t worry. He wouldn’t be around much,” he added coaxingly. “And, besides, the place is huge. We could always keep out of his way.”

Yes, and it would irritate him beyond bearing, Gaby thought. She hesitated but only for a minute. Marc would hate it. That appealed to her. It appealed a lot. Maybe she could even bear seeing him with Lana.

“Okay,” she said. “I’d love to. What shall I pack?”

“Something cool.” He chuckled. “And a couple of dresses. We’ll go to one of the fish places to eat.”

She searched his dark eyes and became serious. “Joe, I wouldn’t want to lead you on,” she began, her voice quiet. “I like you. But that’s all it can ever be. I enjoy my independence.” Her shoulders rose and fell. “Knowing that, I’ll understand if you’d rather I didn’t go with you.”

He smiled slowly. “Thank God.” He sighed. “A woman without marriage on the brain. I like you, too, sweetheart,” he added, brushing his knuckles gently against her cheek. “And I’m no more in the mood for a passionate affair than you are. But I don’t make friends easily, especially women friends, and I enjoy showing you off, taking you places. Sure, I want you to come. But Marc won’t, and that’s why you want to come, isn’t it?” he asked shrewdly, watching her face color. He laughed wickedly. “That’s another reason I invited you. Marc’s been running my life for years. But I’ve got my fingers in some other pies now, and I have my own spending money. Having you on my arm would give him hell, wouldn’t it?”

She began to realize that Joe had his own problems with Marc. Perhaps he’d deliberately pursued her to get back at his brother. She wasn’t sure now that she wanted to go through with it. Her own revenge was one thing. Joe’s was something else. Marc had put a lot of sacrifice into bringing up Joe...

Listen to yourself, she thought, you’re going soft already. She laughed. “Okay, I’ll go. We’ll put the thumbscrews on big brother together.”

“That’s my girl,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Thanks for dinner,” he called as he drove off. And with a wave of his hand and a flash of white teeth, he was gone.

Gaby went upstairs to her own room and gazed out the window. Was she doing the right thing? She thought back to her youth, to the heart Marc had broken, to the aching humiliation of their final meeting. Her eyes went hard. Yes, it was the right thing. It didn’t matter what Joe’s motives were; her own were the only ones that concerned her. She could needle Marc if she kept her head. She could make him feel the same torment he’d inflicted on her. And she ignored the tiny voice that argued that she was more vulnerable than he was. The sight of him would be bittersweet anguish. To see him, be with him again, even with Lana Moore between them...no, that wasn’t why she was going, it wasn’t! She turned abruptly from the window and went to bed.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ued5bfafa-00a2-57b0-bffd-ea97601c8be0)

GABY SAW JOE frequently after that. She expected Marc to try to put a stop to it, but she saw no evidence of any interference. She was relieved, but in a way it bothered her, too, because Gaby hated thinking Marc didn’t even care. She had to admit that she preferred his antagonism to his indifference and she wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her.

Meanwhile Joe was good fun. He had excellent manners and a dry sense of humor. He took her to the most expensive, delightful kinds of places. She’d been accustomed to high living all her life, so she never questioned the kind of money Joe had. Motocraft must really be an enterprise, Gaby thought, because even a vice president got rich at it. But, then, Marc was Joe’s brother, and she imagined Marc didn’t mind sharing. He’d once seemed the soul of generosity to her. Back in the days before he began to worship money and would do anything for it.