Page 20 of Forbidden Sins

He chuckled, and she watched his hands as he opened the bottle of champagne. His capable hands withdrew the cork with a small, careful pop. “Yeah, you could say that, I guess.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gabe shook his head. “Why don’t we get down to business?” he asked, pointing to the envelope in her hands, without answering her question. She opened the envelope and looked over the papers as he spoke. “I’ve filed a standard annulment here. We were both intoxicated, so we could both argue diminished capacity. We both leave the marriage with what we had coming into it,” he explained. “The sooner you answer the complaint, hopefully the sooner we can have our day in court.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He reached into his breast pocket. “And I believe this is yours,” he said, putting the platinum and diamond band on the table. The one he’d tried to give to her on Saturday.

“Gabe, I told you. I can’t keep your ring,” she said.

“It’s yours,” he told her. “I don’t have any use for it. I mean until my next drunken wedding, I guess. But then I can always get another ring.” He cracked a small smile. “Seriously, keep it. It’ll be a great reminder of a weekend we’ll never forget.”

“If only either of us could remember.” She laughed. She examined the delicate band and the small, flawless diamonds that encircled it. “Thanks. It’s really pretty.”

“I don’t remember picking them out.”

“You insisted we hit the Tiffany & Co. at Caesars Palace.”

“So said my credit card statement. I used my account activity to piece together what happened that evening. We bought the rings right before we got a cab to the chapel, where I only paid for the best wedding ceremony two drunk people could want at $24.95.”

“A lot of that does sound familiar,” she affirmed. “Let me at least pay you for some of the night—the rings, the champagne, the suite.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He laughed. “I still can’t believe we got married. Why would they ever let people that drunk sign any sort of legal papers?” He sobered, and she felt him shift away from her. “It’s so strange how fate threw us together this way. You’re Burnham’s daughter. And he wants me to mentor you.”

Dismissing any confusion she’d felt about what Gabe expected from their night, Ellie pushed down any desire she was feeling. Gabe had just laid out their professional relationship, not leaving any room for sex. Even though Ellie had tried to forget their professional ties, Gabe had put it on the table. Knowing where they stood, Ellie was relieved, but also disappointed. Part of her had wanted another night with Gabe, but it was for the best. She sipped her champagne and smiled. “It’s such a crazy coincidence. I didn’t know the world worked that way. But you should have seen your face today in my dad’s office.”

“You were no less shocked, honey,” Gabe told her.

“Really? I thought I had a pretty decent poker face.”

He tilted his head, and made a show of appraising her. “You were pretty good,” he conceded. “But I saw the flash of recognition in your eyes,” he said, his voice dropping in volume. She had to lean in to hear him over the music and the din of the club. “I saw the small, surprised O you made with those lips,” he continued, brushing her bottom lip with his thumb. He sat back quickly, changing his demeanor. “But I don’t think we need to worry. Charles didn’t suspect a thing.”

“Thank God.” She laughed again. “The less he knows about this the better.”

“I’ll have you know that your father loves me. I’d be an excellent son-in-law.”

Ellie scoffed, having fun bantering with him. “Sure, he loves you. You didn’t spend the majority of your teen years publicly embarrassing him.”

Gabe sat back and watched her, and she knew that she had revealed too much. “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

She blew out a heavy breath at the memories that flooded her. “Is there ever.”

“Tell me.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s too embarrassing.”

“Come on, Ellie, we’ve already shared so much. At least let me have one embarrassing story before we get annulled.”

She looked at Gabe, and took a drink from her glass. The champagne reminded her of drinking with Gabe on Friday. “Okay,” she said. “When I tell you this, you have to promise you won’t judge me based on who I was as a teenager.”

“I promise.” He crossed his heart with a solemn, but joking, look on his face.

“Picture the most self-absorbed, obnoxious underage party girl who has ever gotten into the hottest LA clubs, and at least twice as many celebrity gossip blogs.”

His eyes widened. “Done.”

“Multiply all of that by at least one hundred, and you would have me. Or who I was.” She took a deep breath. “My mom is an actress.”

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