Page 49 of High Notes & Hail Marys

“Where do you guys think the wedding will be?” Sterling asks. Notably, he hasn’t touched his own starter.

“Oh, not until the season is over, obviously,” Gabi says. She hasn’t ordered an appetizer, but plucks a rock shrimp off GoGo’s plate. “Somewhere that it’s not disgusting in the summer. Before OTAs, so we have time for a honeymoon. I’ve heard that Colorado is gorgeous. I’d love to get married on a ranch with the mountains in the background of all the pictures.” She gazes dreamily at GoGo.

“Oh my gosh,yes!” Jamie sighs. “I’ve seen those TikToks! With a formal ceremony gown…”

“...and the rubber boots!” Gabi finishes.

“Yeah, that sounds gorgeous, baby, but who wants to risk stepping in cow shit on their wedding day?” He frowns. “I say we get married in a church, like normal people.”

“Well, it’s not like either of us is religious,” Gabi points out. “But we still have lots of time to decide. There’s no pressure.”

“Of course not,” Sterling murmurs, taking a deep drink from his champagne flute.

You force yourself to look away from the Gabi-and-GoGo trainwreck and turn your attention to the other couple at the table. Sandy looks as fine as ever—the man can rock a tailored jacket like nobody else—but also tired. He’s not ignoring anybody, but neither is he driving any conversation. His shoulder is wearing him down, you know, and there’s still five games of regulation left. Not to mention the post-season which is looking more and more like a guarantee. Jamie’s fully engaged in socializing, but she’s also checking in on her man frequently, rubbing his arm and whispering in his ear. You’ve always liked Jamie. She’s a good woman, and she’s good for Sandy.

GoGo’s still twitchy when the entrées come, his knee jogging hard enough beneath the table that it occasionally jolts all your glasses. Ster looks pissed, but Gabi acts completely oblivious, steadying her water like it didn’t just splash on her bare thigh. You suck it up through dinner, your duck breast sticking dry in your throat despite the fact that it’s actually cooked expertly. And then, as if that wasn’t enough torture for one night, the girls decide that they want dessert. Sterling asks you if you want to split something, and you’re so focused onnotlosing your cool that you don’t hear him the first three times he tries to get your attention.

You could normally have single-handedly wolfed down three plates of the dinky little madeleine cookies dipped in white chocolate with matcha, saffron, macadamia nuts, and lime zest, but you nibble one without tasting it and let Sterling have the rest. While the waiter is preparing the bill for Sterling, GoGo abruptly adjourns to the bathroom and is gone for far longer than should be necessary. It actually gets to the point where the table is cleared and everyone is awkwardly trying toavoidmentioning it before he deigns to return, bouncing on his heels and clapping his hands with an abundance of restless energy.

In the foyer, you all say your goodbyes. While Sandy is helping Jamie into her coat, and you’rethanking all the gods in heaven that the evening is almost over, GoGo lurches over Gabi’s shoulder and paws at her breasts. There doesn’t seem to be any provocation for it. It’s almost a backwards hug, but not quite, just his bigger body dwarfing hers as he gropes her.

Gabi laughs high and shrill, and bats at him ineffectively.

“Stop, baby. People are here,” she said softly, her face turning tomato-red.

Sterling’s mouth is a tight line.

“Not cool, man,” he tells GoGo tersely. “Save it for when you get home. You’re embarrassing her.”

GoGo guffaws, and slides his hands down Gabi’s hips. “You jealous, bro?”

To his credit, Sterling doesn’t dignify that with an answer. “I’m asking you to stop humiliating my friend,” he says coolly. “Your fiancée.”

“She doesn’t mind. Do you, li’l mama?” GoGo nuzzles his face into the side of Gabi’s neck, his hands on her thighs. Gabi’s lush lower lip is between her teeth. She looks acutely distressed.

“Baby, let’s go,” she mumbles softly. “I think I see the car outside.”

GoGo straightens, and looks over his shoulder at the doors.

“It’s fucking blacked out!” he says, his voice far too loud to be socially-acceptable. In the dining room, the three waiters who served your table (and doubtlessly just want to go home) are trying not to be obvious about listening in. “You don’t see shit! Fine, I’ll leave you the fuck alone. Remember that you asked for that.”

He storms towards the doors. Sandy moves to grab his arm, but GoGo shakes him off irritably. He shoves the heavy doors open, letting the chilly night air in. Gabi totters after him, almost tripping to catch up.

“Jesus,” you swear. Something tells you to follow, and you take long strides toward the exit. Sterling follows.

“You guys stay here,” he tells the Covellis.

At the curb, Gabi has caught up to GoGo, who has the SUV door open.

“Baby, please,” she pleads.

“Get in another fuckin’ car, Gabrielle!” he shouts. “I’m goin’ the fuck home alone.”

She puts a hand on his shoulder beseechingly. He bats her off, irritated. Undeterred, she reaches out and clutches at his chest and back, like her tiny body could contain GoGo. He makes a growling noise in his throat, grabs Gabi by the upper arms,andshovesher. She goes reeling backwards, almost falling on her ass. Her beautiful face is shiny with tears and snot. There are streaky red marks on her skin from his rough fingers.

When it happens, it's like a train wreck playing out in slow motion. You are heading in GoGo’s direction—what you are about to do to him, you aren’t sure—when Sterling clears the doors, and a lone paparazzo, who was hiding behind some bushes to the left, pops out like a jack-in-the-box with a Nikon. It’s a short, skinny kid with blocky glasses like Clark Kent, and he doesn’t say a word. Just starts snapping furiously, the eye of his lens trained on Sterling and yourself.

Sterling doesn’t see him at first, but GoGo does.

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