Page 135 of Angel Eyes

The corners of his mouth tightened. “I have yet to decide what to do about him.”

I tucked my arms against my chest, feeling oddly protective. “Papa, you should know what Cristian did, he did for you. Everything he’s ever done has only been to earn your approval.”

“My approval?” His lips tilted down. “That’s ridiculous. He knows how much I value him.”

I shook my head. “He doesn’t. You should tell him.”

He stared at me for several long seconds, then exhaled slowly, running a hand over his mouth. “It would seem I have more than one mistake to make amends for.” Sighing, he turned to my statement piece again. “This painting is lovely, by the way. Lucien tells me we are looking for artwork to display in the restaurant dining room, and I was hoping to purchase it, but your agent told me it’s not for sale?”

“No, it’s not.” I wet my parched lips. “It’s all I have left of her.”

“Ah, yes. Juliet, right?”

“Yes.” My chest squeezed. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and I ruined it.”

He shook his head. “No failure is final. So long as you draw breath, there is time to fix it.”

“But she’s leaving,” I said, my voice hitching. “She’s going back to New York.”

“So, stop her.” He regarded me seriously. “Learn from my mistakes, Gabriel, and don’t let three years go by before you make things right.”

With a nod, he retreated toward the exit, pausing at the door.

“If you change your mind about the painting, do let me know.” His mouth softened in a smile. “Nothing would make me prouder than to share my son’s creation with everyone who visits Marcel’s. I am sure they would marvel at what you have made, just as I have.”

Forty-Seven

Cristian

Istared at the glass tumbler in my hand, rotating it slowly and watching as shards of refracted light floated around the dim space. Taking a sip of the amber liquid, I let my head fall back just as my office door swung open, an overexcited Caleb bounding through it.

“Hey boss, I—” He froze, his eyes sweeping over me. “Are you all right?”

“Did you need something?” I said, ignoring his question as my eyes drifted over his shoulder to a blank stretch of wall. I gazed at it ruefully. I’d intended to fill that space with framed critic reviews from the restaurant opening.

Now, I would probably never get the chance.

“Um, I just thought I’d let you know we’re expecting another full house tonight.” He opened a folder, flipping through a stack of papers half-heartedly. “Reservations are completely booked for the next month, and I expect we’ll maintain this level of foot traffic through the fall at least.” He tapered off, regarding me. “You know what, I should just come back later. It seems I’ve caught you at a bad time.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” I said, pouring myself another measure of whiskey.

“Uh, you’re drinking alone in the dark at two o’clock in the afternoon.” He gave me a searching look. “Has something happened?”

I glanced at him, pushing down the strange, irrational urge to laugh.

Yes, quite a few things had happened.

I had single-handedly wrecked Gabriel’s life—again—and had hurt someone I cared about in the process, someone who was kind and far too innocent for this world. I had come clean about Elise’s unlawful behavior, including my own involvement, and as a result, had put all of my future plans for the restaurant in jeopardy. And above all, I’d all but certainly lost the respect of the man I admired most in the world, a man who had put so much faith in me.

“No, nothing’s happened. I’ve simply exceeded my daily capacity for human interaction and am now recharging in my lair.”

Caleb blinked, then huffed. “Very funny. Have you ever considered taking the stage?”

“What? And leave you here to run this place into the ground?”

“I could make it at least a week without you.”

“Two days tops.”

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