Having caught an earlier bus in, she got in well before her usual time. It was as she was going up the steps to the main doors of the Saxon & Archer building that she caught sight of the man she’d seen with Gabriel yesterday. He was hiding behind one of the pillars that fronted the next building over, looking out furtively every so often.
Charlotte didn’t hesitate to walk over. “Hello,” she said in a gentle tone once she was close enough. “You’re Gabriel’s father, aren’t you? Brian?”
The man, his eyes sunken and his clothes hanging off his frame, looked alarmed. “Don’t tell him I’m here,” he begged. “I just wanted to see him before I go to the hospital later today.”
Charlotte stepped off the sidewalk and joined Brian behind the pillars so they could talk privately. “He’s very angry with you,” she said, understanding that anger.
“I know.” Coughs wracking his frame, Brian Bishop took something out of his pocket. “Will you give him this? I don’t think he’d take it from me.”
Charlotte took the wrinkled envelope that she guessed contained a letter. “I will.” Gabriel might yell at her for interfering, but if they were to have a relationship, she had to be strong enough to face him down when necessary.
And it was necessary here. Gabriel might not want to talk about this, but she knew the situation wasn’t healthy, that he had to find a way to deal with the anger inside him. “You should go from here for now,” she said, touching her hand to Brian’s arm to take the sting out of the words. “I’ll make sure Gabriel gets this.”
Brian swallowed and nodded.
“Wait,” she said when he would’ve turned. “When’s your appointment?”
“Ten a.m. At the main hospital.” He touched a hand to his chest, tremors running through him. “Cancer.”
Though she’d already guessed it was something like that, Charlotte felt an ache of memory at the mention of the disease that had taken her mother. “Do you have transport home after your treatment?”
A dull smile. “Yes, a charity volunteer picks me up. It’s what I deserve.”
Watching him as he left, Charlotte put the envelope in her purse and headed up.
When Gabriel came in from his run, he said, “I like you in yellow, Ms. Baird,” before claiming a kiss.
She waited to bring up the letter until he was in his office after his shower, the cobalt-blue strip of his tie slung around his neck in readiness for tying. Closing the door behind her, she simply sighed at the gorgeous sexiness of his smile when he glanced up.
“No office shenanigans,” he said, fingers moving efficiently to get the tie in place. “Not that I can’t be persuaded to negotiate that rule.”
Her stomach fluttered before twisting with nerves. “I have to talk to you about something.”
Brow furrowing, he watched her move toward him. “Sounds serious.”
“It’s about your father.”
His jaw clenched. Hands on his hips and tie done, he turned to stare out at the cloud-gray sky. “That man lost the right to call himself my father a long time ago.”
“I know.” Charlotte touched one hand to his back, soothing the tension there with gentle strokes. “But this anger you’re carrying around? It’s toxic.” When he didn’t speak, she continued despite her worry that he’d try to shut her down again.
It wouldn’t work this time, not when he’d given himself to her, but she’d have to fight to batter down his walls, and she knew exactly how hardheaded he could be. “I know what I’m talking about. I hated Richard for what he did. For a long time that hate drove me forward to heal myself, become stronger, and that was good, but at some point, I realized it was stealing pieces of me.”
Still no response.
“The hate was making me into someone who saw only the negative in people.” She shook her head. “I didn’t want to be that person, so I made a conscious decision to let the hate go.”
Gabriel slid his arm around her waist, drawing her against him. “How? After what he did.”
“By hating him, I was giving him too much importance in my life. He didn’t deserve my attention.” Turning her back to the view, she touched Gabriel’s freshly shaven cheek. “I don’t know if you can ever forgive your father, but let the anger go, Gabriel. In the end, it’ll only damage you.”
Expression still grim, he nodded at the envelope in her hand. “From him?” When she confirmed that, he took it and tore it open.
It didn’t hold a letter. Two checks fell out instead. One was made out to Gabriel, the other to Sailor, both for odd amounts: two hundred forty-seven dollars and fifty cents, and one hundred eighty-nine dollars and eighty-two cents.
“I DON’T UNDERSTAND,” CHARLOTTE said when Gabriel just stared at the checks.
Reaching back, he dropped the checks on his desk and drew Charlotte into his arms. He needed her warmth, her tenderness. “When Brian left,” he told her, “he didn’t only empty out his and Mom’s joint account. He took the money in Sailor’s account and mine too.” Miniscule amounts really, but important to two little boys.
“We put birthday money in there, and my mom used to add an extra five dollars now and then when she’d saved money on the grocery shopping or something. It was meant to pay for stuff we might need at school later on—field trips, things like that.”