Page 76 of Filthy Little Lies

“These things are torturously boring,” she says with a tight smile. “I’d rather be home in my sweatpants with a good book, but Robert has to make an appearance. Do whatever he’s doing with all these men he takes into the corner for private conversations.”

Her focus is on her husband and Gabriel as they walk through the French doors out onto the balcony.

“Gabriel is building a shipping hub; they’re probably talking about construction and zoning.” I have no idea what I’m saying, but I’ve heard Gabriel mention those specific topics whenever he talks about the hub.

She eyes me humorously. “I may not know exactly what my husband does with men like Gabriel, but I know they aren’t talking about zoning.”

“Men like Gabriel?” There’s no judgment in her tone, but there’s not the same level of respect she was playing at earlier.

“You don’t have to pretend. It’s well-known what he does when eyes aren’t on him. Everyone pretends to be ignorant of it because he makes the city an insane amount of money, but no one’s fooled.” She lets out a little sigh. “And to be honest, there isn’t a man in this room that doesn’t both fear him and wish to be him.”

“He can be scary,” I say, catching a glimpse of him through the windows. He’s too far away to make out his expression, but just seeing his profile is enough to set my nerves at ease.

I can’t remember the last time anyone had that effect on me. Or if at all.

Julia gently nudges me with a shoulder. “There’s also not a woman in this room that doesn’t wish they were you right now.”

“Me?” Looking around, I realize how many sets of eyes are on us. Heat rises up my chest.

“I won’t pretend to know Gabriel past our social circles, but I will say this. You are the first woman he’s brought to any social event as long as I’ve known him. And I’m talking years.”

I swallow past the ball growing in my throat. Why would he bring me here? To show me off as some sort of toy?

His gaze catches mine through the windows. A smile touches his lips before he’s pulled into another conversation. He’s not a man who plays such games.

“And don’t give any attention to any woman in here who tries to wiggle her way between the two of you. I’ve seen plenty of highly skilled women try, and not a single one has turned his head.”

“I won’t lie; you’re scaring me a little.” I force a smile, like I’m half joking. My heart might actually beat itself right out of my chest and land at our feet, though.

She touches my arm gently. “I don’t think you have anything to be afraid of with him. The way he looks at you is enough to set the room on fire.”

“We haven’t known each other for very long, I think you might be getting the wrong impression.”

She glances toward the doors, where Gabriel is marching his way back to us while her own husband has wandered away toward the bar.

“I think I have exactly the right impression.” She pauses a beat. “It looks like dinner’s going to start. I better get Robert and drag him to our seats.”

She gives a parting nod to Gabriel when he reaches us.

“She said dinner’s coming out,” I say.

“Good. You still didn’t eat anything.” He eyes the plate he left me, still brimming with appetizers.

“I will survive not eating one day, Gabriel.” I hand off the dish to a waiter making his way around collecting discarded glasses and dishes.

“The way you say that makes it sound like you’ve done it before.” He pinches his lips together.

“It was a long time ago, but there were a few times I went a day or two without something to eat.” I touch his arm when he looks ready to battle someone. I’m not sure he cares who, just so long as he can put his fist into someone.

And it’s because one time, years ago, I wasn’t taken care of. An uncomfortable warmth spreads across my body.

“Here you are.” Roman approaches us, Lucian on his heels. “They’re sitting; we should sit.”

Gabriel bites back whatever he was going to say about my past, and links our fingers, leading us to a table near the exit. After we’re in our seats the courses begin coming out. Roman and Lucian keep up the conversation through the meal, talking with the other couples at our table. One of the wives keeps eyeing Gabriel, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He’s too busy policing my plate.

“I can’t eat anymore, Gabriel.” I groan into his ear when he leans over me to point at the potatoes left on my plate. “I’ll bust right out of this dress.”