Page 13 of A Lot Like Adiós
Michelle didn’t even blink. “Excellent deduction.”
“But you live in Manhattan.”
“Yup.”
“Shouldn’t we be taking a tunnel or something?”
“We would be...ifwe were going to Manhattan.”
Gabe stared at her impassive expression. “Michelle. Why aren’t we going to Manhattan if that’s where you live?”
She sighed. “Because I’m not staying there right now.”
His gut plummeted like he was on an out-of-control roller coaster. “Why not?”
“There’s no toilet,” she replied bluntly. “My bathroom renovation is taking twice as long as expected. They were supposed to be finished already, but you know how it goes.”
Gabe sucked in a breath as panic set in. No, they couldn’t be going where he thought they were going. “I’ll pay for a hotel. A suite. For both of us. You’ll have your own room. Room service. Open bar. Whatever you want.”
She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Why would we stay in a hotel when I have a perfectly good house for us to use?”
House.Shit.That confirmed his suspicions.
Michelle was taking them to her parents’ house in the Bronx.
Suddenly the car felt even smaller as desperation kicked up his pulse. “Fine, thenI’llstay in a hotel. Drop me off somewhere. Anywhere. Side of the highway is fine. I’ll hitchhike.”
She shot him a dark glare, her mouth tightening into a hard line. “You agreed to stay with me. Since I’m staying at my parents’ house, that’s where you’re staying too.”
He narrowed his eyes back at her. “You did this on purpose.”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, Gabe. I demanded that my contractors take extra time to renovate my bathroom just so I could trick you into staying at my parents’ house. Ilovenot having a working toilet in my apartment. It’s thebest.”
Sweat prickled Gabe’s forehead under the band of his cap. He adjusted it, trying to wipe it away, but more sprang up. “My parents liveright next doorto yours.”
She kept her eyes on the road. “So what?”
Gabe slumped as much as the seat belt and mediocre leg room would allow, as if someone else driving on the highway might recognize him and rat him out. “They can’t know I’m here.”
“Then don’t tell them.”
Trust Michelle to oversimplify the problem.
“I mean, I don’t want them to seeme.”
“I hardly ever see them. It’ll be fine. We’ll keep you out of sight. Stop worrying so much.”
“What about your family? They’ll tell my parents the second they lay eyes on me.”
“My parents are in Florida at the beach house. No one else knows you’re here. Don’t murder me, ’kay?”
“You haven’t told anyone?” That surprised him. He was sure she would have at least told her cousins.
“No way.” She gave a mock shudder. “The last thing I need is all of them breathing down our necks. They’ll read too much into it and the next thing you know, my mother will be planning our wedding.”
She made it sound like a fate worse than death. But she was right. They’d already dodged enough invasive questions when they were younger. People assumed they would eventually get together, and while Gabe had dreamed about it often, it would never have worked. Michelle was firmly based in New York City, and Gabe couldn’t live here. Not even for her.
“You know I wouldn’t have agreed to stay with you if you’d told me we were going to the Bronx,” he said.
