Page 43 of Broken Saint

17

Nova

The next day came and went with no more word from Ronin or Rock. I dropped my phone into my purse. I was done staring at it, waiting for the damned thing to come to life.

I'd worked through the day until almost midnight and returned to work before the sun came up. Now, fifteen hours later, I still couldn't sleep. Not with my entire life hanging in the balance. Between the upcoming fashion show, Ronin not responding to my texts and Rock pulling an abrupt about face, I was feeling low.

Rock had apparently decided to give me space. If he was trying to prove I would miss him, he'd accomplished that. I didn't just miss him, I ached for him. Then there was the confusing kiss Ronin had left me with. That bastard wasn't playing fair at all. Hell, neither of them were.

On top of that… As predicted, the word about my engagement had hit the internet and set the town on fire. My team was doing their level best to field all the calls, emails, and social media messages requesting an interview or an official statement, which I had so far declined to give. Everyone wanted details about the man I was planning to marry. My friends weren't much better. They were pressing me for the juicy deets and desperate to get together. If not for the fashion show, I would not be able to avoid them.

"Do I want to know what's making you frown like that?" Gabe took the seat next to me at the bar and motioned toward the bartender. Within seconds he had a glass of amber-colored liquor in front of him and all of his attention squarely on me.

Clearly, I should have skipped the nightcap and gone straight to my room. I wasn't ready for twenty questions from my boss, either.

"It's not a frown per se, it's just sheer exhaustion from the long hours I've been working. Guess it's bringing out my resting bitch face."

Gabe laughed. "Yeah, right as if. You wouldn't know RBF if it stood up and slapped you. But I get it if you don't want to talk about it. You've had a lot going on lately."

I wasn't sure if it was my overactive imagination or not, but I suddenly had a feeling that Gabe knew everything. That was both impossible and irrational, but he definitely knew something.

"Been burning the midnight oil lately getting ready for the show. So many details to finalize before the big night. Now I'm just too excited to sleep."

"I've heard really good things about your new designs. There's a lot of buzz around your show and what you will debut."

For a second, I just looked at Gabe, blinking. Then I started laughing. "Nina?" I asked.

He smiled. "Is it that obvious?"

I nodded. "It's the buzz that gave it away. That sounded straight out of her vocabulary, not yours."

He took a swallow of his drink. "Busted. I honestly don't know jack about women's fashion. Although I can definitively say that the Nova pieces that Nina has worn thus far are stunning.”

I felt the heat of a blush crawling up my neck. That felt like high praise coming from someone like Gabe. He might know fashion, but he had spectacular taste in everything. It might also have something to do with the fact I was on my third martini in an hour. My only defense being I was parched when I arrived.

"Your wife looks stunning in anything she wears."

He nodded. "This is true. But that doesn't diminish what I meant. From what I've seen you are extremely talented."

"Well, good thing you snapped me up while you could." Although, I might be out of business before I could establish the latest line if Ronin didn't let me off the hook. Mafia wives, according to their men, were better in the background than in the public eye. A fact I'd grown to resent more than ever.

"Nova," he said gently, but with a clear reprimand in his tone. I'd picked up on the fact that Gabe Michaels was as alpha dominant as the other men in my life. The difference, though, was the pure devotion and protectiveness he had for his wife. I'd officially declared them couple goals shortly after meeting them.

"I know.I don't take compliments well. Although I truly do appreciate them. Thank you."

Gabe tipped his drink toward mine. "I'll drink to that, as well as your upcoming successful new line. I have no doubt it's going to go over like gangbusters."

"From your lips to God's ears," I responded, touching my glass to his.

After we both took drinks, Gabe returned his to the bar top and his face twisted into a look of concern. I wanted to ask what was on his mind, but I had a feeling it had to do with me and that this would be the part of the conversation that would make me squirm.

I nursed my drink a little longer, hoping I was wrong, when Gabe spoke again.

"You've got a lot going on, and Nina and I want you to know that we are here for you." He swiveled on his seat and met my gaze before I could avert my eyes. The genuine concern I saw there disarmed me. He wasn't trying to attack or insult me, he simply looked worried.

"Thanks," I said, not quite trusting myself to say anything else.

He lightly touched my hand and that genuine warmth nearly did me in. I had gotten really damned lucky when I was chosen to open my shop at The Sinclair. The people here had become more my family than my real family. And sometimes that wasn't such a bad thing.

---