Crossing The Grey

T w o

"Voicemail," he says as he disconnects the call. I feel a slight deflation of relief in my chest even though I'm not sure why. I really do want this over with. We need to speak to her.

"Great," I say. "Now what?"

"I know where she works." He says.

"What?" I can't hide my shock. Gideon knows where she works, which means either he's had contact with her in the intervening years or he's been keeping tabs on her. I'm not sure what any of this means or how it had brought us here but it certainly adds another layer of something.

I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding and sit back down in the chair facing him. "When was the last time you saw Charlie, Gideon?"

He shakes his head and begins scraping his thumbnail back and forward over his bottom lip thoughtfully. "I'm not sure. A year ago maybe. It was at a charity gala. She was with her husband - he was an asshole." Gideon's eyes darken.

"What happened?" I ask, my eyes narrowing slightly. Had Gideon offended Charlie's husband and was that why she was doing this? Gideon had the ability to offend people quite easily. I'd literally despised him when I first met him. I thought he was a rude, arrogant prick - all things I still think.

He sighs and moves to sit further back in the chair, stretching out and spreading his legs wide as he sips at his scotch. Even in a relaxed pose he still has the most dominating presence of any man I've known. A combination of his size and physicality means that he looks as though he's harnessing an immense amount of power just under the skin. As though he could erupt at any given moment. He looks dangerous. Dominant. Without even working at it. Bastard. Envy surges through me.

The fact that I'd hated Gideon on sight had only intrigued me more. So I'd made a point of getting to know him. I'd been in awe of how he seemed to command every space he existed in. I wanted to know what made him tick, which I soon realised was largely a brokenness. Not unlike my own. We were similar in so many ways and I guess that explained why we'd gotten close. However although he was broken, Gideon seemed to have been welded back together with steel, maybe even Titanium. I hadn't been so fortunate. I was a sub-standard alloy if I was lucky.

"Nothing happened. He was just an asshole. I've met him before. He was an asshole then too." Gideon's voice has dropped an octave. He looks at me, as it just occurs to him what I'm getting at. "No. I've never done business with him, screwed him over, hit him, or fucked his girlfriend."

"Well you've fucked his wife..." I mutter.

"So have you," He smirks. "Anyway, she wasn't his wife then."

I nod. "So at the Gala, did you talk to her? Exchange pleasantries? Anything that might have triggered something?" I ask.

"We spoke for five minutes maybe. I was with Corrine, and suddenly Charlie was in front of me." He looks up, meeting my eye. "She looked good. Better than I remembered. Maybe even better than she did back then." His eyes glaze over slightly and he runs his hand back and forward over the top of his head. "She asked how I was, how business was - you know, the normal social exchanging of pleasantries between two old friends. And then she asked about you."

My skin prickles. "Me? What about me?"

"Just how you were. If I'd seen you. That kind of thing. I told her we hadn't really kept in touch. And she said that was a shame."

He shrugs his shoulders and reaches forward to refill his glass. He holds the bottle out and I let him fill mine, pulling it away when it's quarter-full. I'm starting to feel the effects of the half-bottle of scotch we've almost consumed. Though it's relaxing me somewhat, it isn't helping me focus.