Now I just needed to say that. One tiny step.
It should be so easy. He'd admitted to returning my kiss, therefore my advance, however unintentional, had not been unwelcome. Yet I'd spent so long analyzing that I couldn't help doing it even here.
Screw it. Just screw it. If I waited for every damn omen to align, I'd grow old and gray.
"I actually wasn't--" I began.
Gabriel's phone sounded. We both jumped.
"So...apparently we have cell service," I said.
He went to hit a button--Ignore, I hoped--but the phone stopped before he could.
"All right," I said. "Full speed ahead. It wasn't Gwynn I was--"
The phone rang again. Gabriel went to hit it again, harder, and then he stopped. I saw the screen, showing a division of the Chicago Police Department. He moved his finger over Ignore, slower now.
"You need to answer that," I said. "Or we're both going to spend the night wondering which client has gotten himself in trouble."
"I'll be quick."
He rose to take the call inside, away from the pounding surf. I followed and stoked the fire, hearing only the crackle and snap of that as he talked. Then there was a crash behind me, and I leapt up to see Gabriel's cell phone at the foot of the wall...where he'd thrown it.
He unclenched his fists, blinked, and stared at the phone as if not knowing how it got there. When he saw me watching, he looked down at his hand.
"It..." he began, and then trailed off, as if he'd been about to say it had slipped before realizing that was logistically impossible. "I'm sorry," he said.
"For what? Getting angry and throwing your phone? Not an indictable offense, Gabriel." I walked over and bent to pick up his cell. "It's an inanimate object, easily replaced. It doesn't even look that badly damaged. Try harder next time."
I quirked a smile at him, but he didn't seem to notice, just stood there, frozen and wide-eyed. In his face, I saw a much younger Gabriel, a boy who'd let his roiling anger spill over, instantly regretting it, terrified of the consequences.
I set the phone on the table. "Was the call about Seanna?"
"Yes."
I winced. "She's in trouble."
"The detective wouldn't tell me over the phone. She only said I need to go there. And I..." Gabriel swallowed. "I don't want to."
"You don't have to. I'll handle this. Lloe? Time for a ride."
Gabriel shook his head. "You can't--"
"Yep, I absolutely can. Let me do this for you. I'll gather the data as if Seanna were any other potential client. Then she can sit in a jail cell until morning. Hell, with a little help from Lydia, we can make sure she sits there until Monday, meaning you and I can continue our weekend away."
He hesitated.
"There's no reason you need to do this," I said.
"And what should I do instead? Pace the floor? Wait for you to come back and tell me what happened?" He lowered his voice. "That doesn't help, Olivia. I know you mean well, but the best way for me to take this weekend off is to tackle this first. Get it out of the way. We'll come back tomorrow night and start again."
"Promise?"
"Yes. No matter what she's done, we'll be back."
CHAPTER TEN
When Gabriel phoned the detective to say we'd reached the city, he was directed to an address. It was not a police station address. The detective still refused to explain, and Gabriel's grumbling protests didn't change anything. She was giving him the runaround for purely sadistic fun, and Gabriel threatening to complain to her superior was like the brattiest kid in school threatening to tell the principal that a teacher was being mean to him.