"Umm, no. I'm not looking for that."
He looked relieved. "Good. Then you will have no problem breaking it off--"
"I mean I'm not wildly and blindly infatuated, not that I don't care about him. I know you're concerned, but Ricky doesn't discuss club business with me and I wouldn't discuss your legal business with him. You can keep me off any Saints cases, if that helps."
Gabriel grabbed the diner door and held it for me. "That's not the problem."
"Then what is?"
He didn't reply until we were seated at the table. He opened his mouth, and the server appeared, coffeepot in hand.
"She'll have some," Gabriel said.
I smiled and exchanged pleasantries with the server as she filled our mugs while Gabriel looked increasingly impatient at the entire ten seconds the process took.
"It's the commingling of professional and personal relationships that makes both Don and me uncomfortable," Gabriel said after she left. "The Saints are my primary clients, Olivia, and many of my other clients come through them directly or through my association with them. I cannot afford to muddy these waters."
"Then fire me."
He pulled back. "Is that what you want?"
"No. If I did, I'd quit. The issue is not that you or Don see an actual problem. You see the potential for problems. But this isn't about either of you. If you're going to threaten me with dismissal, get it over with."
"I'm not the one who mentioned it."
"Because I beat you to it."
The server approached with her order pad. Gabriel waved her off. I gave her a five-minute sign.
He shifted forward. "You say it's not serious, but you're willing to risk a good job for him. A lucrative job that you enjoy. You'll give that up for a man you have no future with. You realize that, don't you? Ricky isn't James. You won't get that life from him."
"I don't want another James. That's the point."
"I don't understand."
"You're comfortable with who you are, right?"
A slight frown, confused. "Of course."
"I've spent my life feeling like a cuckoo raised by robins. I grew up pretending to fit into my mother's world, and the whole time I felt suffocated. Then I went to Cainsville, and everything changed. I met people who know who I am and don't give a shit. Who don't expect me to be anything other than what I am. For me, that's huge. Being with Ricky is part of that. I have my own life. I have my own secrets. He doesn't care. He takes what I can give, and he's happy with it, and I'm happy with him. He's exactly what I need right now."
Gabriel sat there, saying nothing. I could tell myself he was processing, but in his eyes I saw anxiety and discomfort, as if he'd spent the entire monologue wishing I'd just shut up.
Damn it. I'd only wanted him to understand. It was so hard to figure out where the boundaries lay. Mostly because he set them, quietly and secretly, in places I could never quite discern. Interfering with my personal relationships? That was fine. Listening to me talk about how I felt? Hell, no. Keep that shit to yourself. Please.
"I'm sorry," I said after thirty more seconds of silence. "I only wanted to explain--"
"No, that's fine." His gaze traveled to the door as if measuring the distance to the escape hatch. He shifted. Adjusted his cuffs. Glanced around again. "All right. I think you're making a mistake, and I fear it will be a problem, but if it's what you want . . ." He seemed to choke on the words before saying, "I won't interfere."
"If it does become a problem--a real one--tell me," I said. "I want to keep my job, and I don't want to make trouble for you."
He nodded and waved the server over. As he was ordering, I got a text from Ricky, saying he was on his way and Don was coming with him. They'd worked it out. As I put down my phone, I was thinking of what had happened tonight and my cuckoo analogy, the two rubbing together until . . . click.
"Can I see Macy's license?" I said as I typed in a search on my phone's browser.
Gabriel passed it over. I took another look at it, then zoomed in on a photo on my screen. I passed both over.
"See a resemblance?"