13. Gia

Gabriel Durand isa loose end that I never should have left alive.

Honestly, when Sal said Marseille, I didn't even register that we'd run into Gabriel here. When I last saw him, I was slipping out of his room in the middle of the night.

I was never going to call.

It's not because he's not handsome or anything. The man's a five-alarm French fire.

He's got dark olive skin and flashing brown eyes, which, coupled with his perpetually shaggy chestnut-colored locks, makes him just the most attractive French human I've ever seen.

Hence, why I slipped out of his bed that time. I wanted to get into it. And then I needed to leave it.

Gabriel might be handsome, and his alluring smile makes him seem like he's tame.

But he's also… dangerous.

Not in a logical way, like Elio and me. No, Gabriel is the unhinged type of dangerous that makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck and makes you check twice before stepping out into the light.

I watched him take a guy's eyes out with a grapefruit spoon.

He's that kind of unhinged.

It was impressive, and I'll give him that, but still.

Staring down a gun held by a man who has shown a willingness to pop eyeballs with serrated silverware isn't exactly a good place to be.

I know that I can't show him that I'm utterly terrified of his gun right now. He'll be entertained by that.

So, I step forward.

The only way to fight fire is with fire, right?

With Gabriel Durand, the only way to keep him from acting crazy is to act even crazier.

When the barrel of the gun is pressed against my chest, I give him a little smirk. "I would have called you back if I knew you were going to whip out your toys."

I can practically feel Sal radiate aggression. Please, not now, I plead in my mind.

He has to play along. Our lives depend on it.

More than that, this is what I was afraid of.

Sal is a good guy. Great, even.

The thing that's happening between us is something that I'm more than willing to explore.

But I have to be able to operate as myself in order to survive in this world.

And he has to accept that.

Mercifully, Sal doesn't say anything. I put out a hand and trail it over Gabriel's jaw.

"You're welcome to shoot, Gabriel. But if you're going to do it, you're going to look me in the eye when you do."

He stares at me for a minute longer, his enticing dark eyes glittering with mischief. Finally, the gun disappears, and he shifts as he tucks it back into his pants.

I want to collapse with relief, but I stay standing, smirking at him.

"Ah well. Some people were not meant to call."

"That's me, for sure. Here today, gone tomorrow. Never meant to stay."

Gabriel sighs. "Gia. At least let me show you around. Come have a drink. On me. As old friends," he says with that same half-crazy smile.

Yeah. I'm definitely not going to deny him that. "Lead the way, Durand."

"You and your…" he trails off, looking at Sal.

"Bodyguard," I supply helpfully.

"You and your bodyguard, you have somewhere else to be?"

Yes. About two thousand miles away. "No, we were just headed to the harbor to get on my yacht."

"Oh, a yacht? The Rossi, you are doing well, no?"

Gabriel turns, and I follow him, hoping Sal will continue to play along. "Well, it's not exactly Elio's yacht."

"And what in the world is Elio's sister into that she has a yacht, and he does not?"

It's not mine at all. "It was a gift."

"Gia. Surely you know better than to accept boats as gifts. They come with many strings, you know. Men who give boats are not willing to release them so easily, given the fact that both the sea and the woman have an equal stake on their hearts."

"So, who did you buy the boat for?"

Gabriel laughs. "Ah, Gia. I have never bought a boat for a woman. But I have had one take off with my heart all the same."

"Poor you."

He doesn't respond to that.

We follow Gabriel through the streets of Marseille, walking for so long that I'm certain we're going in the opposite direction from the docks when he stops.

"After you, Gia," Gabriel gestures, his hand on an ancient looking wooden door.

I press past him and duck inside.

Sal, ever behind me, follows.

Inside, there's a quaint little couch area, set up next to some windows that look pretty industrial. They might have once been a factory or something, but now light filters through them easily onto the floor, painting the furniture and the room with a golden glaze.

Gabriel settles into a chair, and we do the same. He gestures for tea, and it appears.

I take my cup. "You know I can't drink this," I say, blowing on it before I set it down.

"Gia," Gabriel puts a hand on his chest, "you wound me. You think I would poison you?"

"Yes," I answer without any other explanation.

"Ah well. You always were a smart one. Tell me, what are you doing in Europe?"

I can't tell if he's asking why we are still alive, or why we're here in general. "Oh, you know. Business."

"Business, I see," Gabriel nods. "Business like the explosion that killed the Russians?"

Fuck. "I believe we were also named as dead in that explosion."

"That you were."

"So, how will you tell people you saw ghosts?"

I'm trying to gauge his interest in this, and whether or not he'll rat us out.

Gabriel wrinkles his nose. "I find it best to leave ghosts alone. Should they come back to life, they can choose that path. Plus, it is advantageous, no? If the world thinks you are dead, they will not look for you."

"That's the idea."

"Ah. I see. Well, I am willing to keep the ghosts and leave them in their graves, if you are willing to help me."

I tilt my head. "With what?"

He gestures for something, and a dark-suited man zooms in, handing Gabriel a jar. Gabriel opens it, the metal snapping in the room. "Do you like French jellies, Gia and bodyguard?"

"Not a gelled goods person, actually," I say.

Gabriel nods. "These are delicious. They are made with the highest quality French fruits, of course. And something else."

"Like what?"

"A secret ingredient. One that I very much hope can expand, with the help of my friends the Rossi's, who also have a very good pathway for expansion."

"What's the ingredient, Gabriel?"

His smile widens. "Medicinal, of course."

"Medicinal how?"

"Well, medicinal mushrooms."

I shut my eyes, smiling despite myself. "You make jelly that gets people high."

"Ah, but it is perfect. They do not show up on a drug test. You can control your dose, and they do not taste foul, as mushrooms are known to do. I have made quite an impact with them, and they are used excessively along the coast and in Ibiza.

"I wish to expand, and I have made some effort to do that in the States, but I find myself faced with… distribution challenges. You see, I do not ever wish to leave France, and I do not know enough Americans to help my interests along."

Translation: He needs to expand his American market, and he doesn't want to move his pretty French ass to do that.

"I see," I say, studying the jelly. "And you're willing to share your profits accordingly?"

"Within the standard amounts, yes."

It could be done. In fact, I think it's a pretty darn good idea.

I smile at him. "This is a pretty neat setup you got here, Gabe."

"Only you have ever called me that, amour."

Amour. Oh, I can practically hear Sal's teeth grinding.

"Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment."

"No one else would have the balls to do it."

"That's definitely a compliment then," I grin at him.

Gabriel smiles back.

"Ah well. Alors. The very concentrated powders are placed inside my very French jellies, and they are shipped to the United States where they're unpacked and distributed, but I know this process is not reaching those I wish to reach."

"Where are they shipped?"

He sniffs. "Currently? The port of New Orleans."

"And you sell them all over?"

"Oui. The trucks though, they are struggling. I haven't been able to get a full shipment out to the distributors in nearly a month."

I bet they are. The Irish have been doing a hell of a job with the motorcycle gangs, paying them off to harass shipments of all kinds of goods and stuff, especially if they know they're from a rival group.

I will absolutely take this opportunity. I give Gabriel a little grin.

"I can cut your shipment costs."

Behind me Sal makes a small, surprised grunt, but Gabriel looks interested.

"Tell me more, amour."

"Rossi Industries recently acquired a… smaller organization. The De Luca Shipping Company trades at the dock in Long Island. I can import your jellies at a discount, and get them to you much faster, because my guys don't drive trucks."

"What do they drive?"

The smile I give is genuinely big. "Cop cars."

Gabriel bursts out laughing. "Amour, you pay off the police to smuggle your exports?"

"Yes, and I'd do it again. Public goods in the US are deteriorating. No one can live on a beat cop salary, and no one in another state is going to pull them over. They're perfect." I beam.

"Alors, Gia. You definitely have some kind of attitude to you."

"Thank you," I smirk.

Gabriel nods. "Well then. I will accept your offer. You get my jellies out in the world, and I will use you as my distributor."

"It's a deal," I stick out my hand.

We shake, and Gabriel sits back. "Well, I suppose I should be getting my new business partner and her… bodyguard out of here," he says, surveying Sal.

I don't look because I can practically feel the menace radiating off of him. "Please. We'll see you soon. I'll call you with the details about the shipments."

"And this time, you'll call?"

I laugh. "This time, Gabriel Durand, I'll actually call."

"Bon. It's settled then. We shall escort you to your ship and send you on your way."

"Much appreciated, Gabriel."

"Oh, it is very much my pleasure, amour."

That word lingers in the air. It's a tease, a meaningless thing for him to say. I don't care about it at all.

But, as I watch Gabriel walk away, I know there's one person who really, really does.

* * *

We're safelyon the yacht and a good hour offshore when Sal finally turns to talk to me.

"What the fuck was that?"

I sip delicately at my martini. "You mean when I saved our asses?"

"How did you save them when you're the one who created the situation to begin with?"

I blink, then bristle. I set the drink down and sit up.

We're both on the leisure deck, and I was feeling pretty good about the boat ride in front of us before Sal opened his mouth.

I fix him with a glare. "Excuse me?"

"You slept with that complete sociopath, walked out on him, and left him alive? And then never wrapped him up?"

My jaw drops. "I'm sorry that I wasn't saving myself for you from the beginning, Sal. You know I'm not some kind of pure, witless virgin."

"That's not what I meant. I meant that you made a stupid decision and it came back to haunt you at the worst possible time."

"Haunt me? Um, I was able to talk us into not only getting onto this boat, but created an ally in the process."

And scored a deal in which we're going to import hallucinogenic jellies, which are going to go over like wildfire with the college crowd. People love shit that puts them in a different mindset that doesn't show up on a drug test, and jelly laced with magic mushrooms is the perfect solution.

"You almost got shot, Gia," Sal growls.

I wave my hand at him. "That? I was hardly almost shot. He was never going to pull the trigger."

"You didn't know that."

"I did."

"There was no possible fucking way to know that," Sal grits.

"Well, maybe. But I know that Gabriel would at least want me to suffer a little, so I was pretty sure he wasn't going to just pull the trigger and kill me outright. If he was going to kill me, he would have kidnapped us both and tortured us. Probably with a grapefruit spoon," I say, wincing as I remember the whole eyeball incident.

"A grapefruit… Gia, that was fucking reckless."

"It was smart."

"You had no plan. You went in blind. You had no assurances and no backup."

"You were my backup. Isn't that the whole point? Elio sent you to make sure I didn't die? Great work, you did it, woohoo," I say, twirling my finger in the air slightly.

I glance over at Sal, and despite the fact that I'm annoyed with him, I actually feel a little giddy.

His face is a remarkable color of red that feels pretty close to tomato.

Getting under his skin is just too fun. Honestly, it's so easy to get him to this state. It's so satisfying, and he gets so flustered.

I smirk at him. "Come on, you have to admit, I did a great job navigating that. I got us out of there, to the boat, and I made a new deal along the way."

"Gia…" Sal growls.

"What, did you get scared?"

The silence that descends over us is deafening. It sinks into my bones, creating tension in parts of my body that I didn't even know existed.

He really was scared.

"Come on, Sal," I say, trying to break the tension. "It was fine. It all went fine. Lighten up a little, will you?"

I don't have time to react. One minute I'm sitting on my lounge chair, and the next, Sal's hand is around my neck.

Lightly.

But firm.

It sends a shiver of arousal down my spine, and when I look into Sal's face, that shiver turns into a full-blown shake.

Sal is looking at me with fear…

And lust.

"You scared the shit out of me, Gia," he growls. "And now, you're going to pay for it."