Page 61 of Trick of Light
“I don’t know if she did or not,” he clarified. “I ran into her a couple years ago in New York and I wanted to ask, but she had her toddler with her and I just…decided to let it go. Forever. I’ll probably never know, unless she decides to tell me.”
She’d once had a pregnancy scare herself, and knew the territory intimately from a woman’s point of view. The anxious waiting. The fear. The uncertainty. The sorting through options. The testing of the relationship. But she’d never heard a man talk about how it felt to him. “Does that bother you? That you don’t know for sure?”
He tilted his head, which made his dark eyes catch the light in a way that made him even sexier.
“It bothers me that she didn’t trust me to have her back. But I think her parents wanted to keep it all hush-hush, and that included me. Maybe they were right. I thought I could step up and rise to the occasion. But we were only fifteen and we were just experimenting. The relationship never would have lasted. Now she’s married and happy and has at least one toddler, maybe more by now.”
Good answer. She liked it. But still…
“Doesn’t it bother you that you had no say in what she did?”
“Oof.” He winced and shot a glance at the bar. “Maybe I should have poured something a little harder. You’re a tough interviewer, Gabby Ramon.”
She made a face. “I know. Real mood-killer, huh?”
“Hey, if this is what you need, this is what you get. Want the truth?”
“Yes, although if it makes you less sexy to me, I’ll be sad.”
“Damn, those are high stakes.” Laughing a little, he sat himself on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees, one big hand still holding his glass. “Truth. Maybe a little, but mostly I was relieved. I went home for break and told Tamara about it and she was furious with me. She went through a litany of all the things a woman goes through during pregnancy, the risks, the dangers, the way her body is changed forever, not to mention her life. I tried to put myself in a woman’s shoes and imagine if I was facing all that. It was…humbling, I guess. My part was easy, you know? An orgasm and I was done. I got over myself pretty quick after that. And swore I’d use protection so the next time I got someone pregnant, it would be because we both wanted it.”
Looking at Barnaby, with his rumpled hair and rueful one-sided smile, Gabby had a hard time believing she’d once thought of him as arrogant. He probably still had pockets of arrogance left from how he’d been raised. But when he found them, at least he questioned them.
“Well?” he asked her, leaning back and stretching out his legs. “How much sexy did I lose?”
“You know perfectly well you didn’t lose a speck.” She walked over to him, but not yet close enough to touch. “You might have even gained a notch or two.”
“Right on. Love to hear it. Got any more for me? Extra-credit opportunity?”
Should she just tell him to take off his shirt and call it good? Maybe one more question. “I think you already answered my question about interracial dating.”
“That I’ve done it?”
“Yes. I’m hoping that means I don’t have to explain a bunch of shit to you.”
He shrugged. “Hard to say. I might have dated other Black women, but none of them were you.”
She liked that answer too. “Right. So that’s not my question. My question is…” But none of her other standard questions formed in her mind. They all had to do with trying to make sure the guy wasn’t someone who would hold her back, or embarrass her in front of her family, or rely on her for money. Her mother had warned her to guard against those types of men, and so many other types as well. She was well fortified to fend off any man with bad intentions.
But asking Barnaby any of those questions would be laughable.
“Any ex-wives?” she finally asked.
“No.”
“Secret babies?”
“I think we covered that. I do have a secret mother, but you already know that. You already know more about me than most people. I’ve never talked about that boarding school scare to anyone except Tamara.”
She’d once done a story on a con man who wormed his way into the lives of grieving widows, and one of his methods was to seem emotionally available. He would pretend to share deeply held secrets with his marks and he would always claim he’d never shared them before with anyone. Was Barnaby someone like that? Roping her in with fake vulnerability?
If so, it wouldn’t work, not on her. She knew how that worked and she wouldn’t get fooled.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked gently, rising to his feet. “Is the secret mother a step too far? I’m not ashamed of that, but maybe your parents wouldn’t like it.”
Her parents. Ugh, what would her parents think of Barnaby? She knew her mother would be wary, since she’d spent her career battling the powerful and privileged “one-percenters.” She could practically hear her mother’s voice. He’ll use you and move on. I know his type. Politics is full of them.
But Mama, he’s different. He’s traveled the world. He works hard to make things better for people.
