She stepped into the room. He hesitated, then put his hands around her waist and lifted her up to sit on a completed section of the counter. He stepped between her splayed knees, his hands sliding down to rest on her thighs. It took everything in his power to leave the contact between them at that.
“Gaby, what you just said makes a lot of sense. Just because your family has money doesn’t mean you’re at all like Christine. But you are the kind of woman who’s bound to have certain expectations in a relationship. I can’t promise you anything right now. I’m just beginning to get on my feet financially. My goals aren’t extravagant or earthshaking, but I don’t want to lose sight of them. It took me a long time to become comfortable with who I am. Now that I am, I don’t want to start dreaming impossible dreams.”
“Am I an impossible dream?” she said quietly, her clear eyes meeting his, then becoming shadowed by doubts. Her gaze dropped to his chest.
“Right now, yes.” When she tried to interrupt, he said, “I know you’re not the same shallow person Christine was. But you are confused and vulnerable. You’re searching for answers for yourself and your future. If we become involved now, you could stop looking. Remember that Robert Frost poem about the road not taken?”
Surprise flickered in her eyes. Then she nodded.
“It was all about choices, Gaby. Unless I’m very much mistaken, tonight you don’t think you have any and it terrifies you. Gabrielle Clayton has probably always had the world at her feet. She could choose any direction for her life and with a snap of her fingers, it was hers. You’re facing now what I faced years ago. You can set almost any goal in life you want, you can work like hell to attain it, you can even have money and power behind you, but there are absolutely no guarantees of success. The satisfaction has to come in making the effort.” He sighed, wondering if he was only talking in circles. “Am I making any sense?”
“Too much,” she said with weary resignation. “I’m just not sure what it has to do with us.”
He searched for the right words. He wanted her to understand that his decision was for now, but perhaps not for always. No guarantees, though. No commitment. And only a suggestion of hope.
“When—if—you and I get together, I want it to be because you have options again. I want you to feel strong and in control of your life, to know every road that’s open to you. And then, if you choose to be with me, it will be because we both know it’s what you want and not the desperate act of a woman who’s afraid to be alone.”
She listened thoughtfully, but frowned at the end. “I am not desperate,” she said heatedly.
He grinned at the sign of renewed spirit. “Good. Then you won’t mind waiting a while, until we both know exactly what we want.”
“I’ll mind,” she said. “But you’re right. Waiting makes a lot more sense.”
Just to make sure he diminished temptation, he changed the subject. Something had put her into this strange mood tonight and he needed to understand what it was. “Want to tell me what happened on those job interviews today?”
She met his gaze, then looked away. “Not particularly.”
He pressed the issue. “Were they that discouraging? Had they already hired someone?”
“No.”
“Then maybe they’ll call tomorrow.” She shrugged indifferently. “Maybe.”
Puzzled, he probed for an explanation for her negativity. It was totally out of character for a woman who was normally optimistic, direct and determined. She had not made that climb on Wall Street by accepting defeat so readily. “Didn’t you like what they were offering?”
“It wasn’t that,” she admitted with obvious reluctance. “In fact, the jobs were fine. So were the benefits packages.”
“What about the people?”
“They were okay, I guess.”
“What then?”
“I’m not sure I handled myself that well in the interviews. I just couldn’t get it together somehow.”
“Why?” He watched the blush creep into her cheeks and felt a pang of guilt. “It wasn’t because of what happened this morning, was it?” The shade of pink deepened to rose. “Oh, Gaby, I’m sorry.”
She gave him a faint smile, obviously meant to reassure. “Don’t worry about it. At first I blamed it on being distracted by that, too, but I think it was more than that.”
“What?”
She hesitated a long time before answering, staring at the floor when she finally did. “I think I was bored by it all.” She glanced up, her expression filled with astonishment at the admission. “Can you imagine? I fought like hell to get to New York, to make it on Wall Street, then I come to one little hurdle in my career and I’m suddenly bored. Do you suppose I’m trying to find an excuse for failing?”
“Nope,” he said with certainty. “I’ve suspected for some time now that the enchantment was past. With your drive, you’d have found another Wall Street job by now, if you’d really been looking. Besides, I don’t think you’re the kind of lady who needs excuses. I think you’ve come to a turning point. Instead of being down, you should be excited.”
“Right. I have exactly fourteen hundred dollars left in my bank account, no job prospects in sight and credit card bills coming in every day. I’m thrilled.”
“Focus on the good side. You’re opening yourself up to new possibilities. Take something temporary, if you feel you have to. Borrow from your parents.”
“Never,” she said adamantly.
“Why not?” he said, struck by the fire in her quick response. “Wouldn’t they give you a loan?”
“Sure. With strings.”
“Such as?”
“Move home to Charleston, take up my rightful place in society, pour tea until my wrist aches, marry someone with exactly the right pedigree no matter how boring and start the cycle all over again in a new house.” She shuddered.
