Page 27 of The Forbidden

“You didn’t give me a chance,” I say with frustration. “Just an ultimatum.”

“I’d been begging you for months to tell our families. You were never going to do it.”

“I would have if—”

“No,” she said, shaking her head furiously so that her black hair tumbled over her shoulders. “Your loyalty is to your family and I can respect that. But there comes a time when you have to stand up for the things you want, and let’s be honest, Gabe… you never would’ve had the spine for it.”

She walked away, the noise of the crowd around us fading as I absorbed the gut punch of truth she’d just leveled. I watched her go and a part of me broke as I realized I’d lost something precious, all for the sake of family loyalty.

If only I had the same courage then that I have now. There was never a moment I pondered the choice to turn my father in. Every bit of the loyalty that kept me and Kat apart all those years ago splintered, pulverized, and blew away by my father’s actions. He is as good as dead to me and here I am, having more regret than ever over my inaction with Kat.

But that’s the past and my future is all kinds of fucked up. Ruminating over what might have been serves no purpose and is nothing but a distraction. I’ve got to stay focused on Mardraggon Enterprises, especially since I am now in charge of it all.

The door to Kat’s apartment opens and she bustles in, shaking off droplets from her hair. She undoes her thin rain jacket and tosses it over a wall hook.

“Are you hungry?” she asks, not in a warm, inviting way but brusquely, to remind me we’re still on business time. She moves into the kitchen as I stand from the couch. From the fridge she pulls two bowls and sets them on the small counter that separates the kitchen from the living area.

I lean over as she removes plastic wrap and see chicken salad and fruit. “Looks great.”

“Let’s talk about the winery and eat at the same time. Sooner we get that done, the sooner you can be on your way.”

It rankles me that she can go from being kind enough to offer her apartment for me to meet Sylvie to wanting to kick me out. “We don’t have to eat,” I say, moving over to my briefcase to grab the documents I brought. “That will save time.”

“I went to the trouble to make this, the least you could do is eat,” she snaps.

I hold up my hands in surrender, one holding the expansion proposal. “Fine. We’ll eat.”

“What do you want to drink?” she asks.

“Got any Mardraggon?” I ask, grinning at her slyly.

“Gross. I’ve got water or Diet Coke.”

“Water,” I reply, dropping the proposal on the small kitchen table. “Where’s the silverware?”

“Drawer to the right of the stove.”

We work in silence as we heap chicken salad and fruit onto our plates. At the small table, the proposal is ignored as we eat in silence for a few minutes.

“This is really good,” I say in compliment to the chef.

She doesn’t reply, merely pulling a strawberry off her fork and into her mouth. That incredibly perfect mouth that I know very well.

I look down at my plate and concentrate on the food.

“The locket you gave Sylvie.” I look up to find Kat staring at me intently. “What was on the inside?”

“A picture of her and Alaine taken last year. Alaine was still vibrant and healthy looking. I wanted her to remember her mom in the good days.”

It seems a bitter pill to swallow but Kat admits, “That was very thoughtful.”

I shrug, stabbing a chunk of chicken. “I love her.”

“I know,” she replies quietly, then coughs to clear her throat. Her eyes dart down to the proposal. “I assume you’re going to summarize that for me.”

Nodding, I wipe my mouth with a napkin. Taking the sheaf of documents, I flip it open. “Pages one through five provide an overview of how the winery operates in very simplified form, just to get you up to speed.” I turn another page. “On page six, I’ve got bullet points listing out a variety of things we need to focus on, like some investment opportunities and a new marketing plan, but I want to focus you on page thirteen… expanded distribution.”

“Why is that the most important?” Kat asks.

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