Findley rose as they approached. He was over six feet, but Gideon was taller. And a hell of a lot bigger.
“Rosie, you look just as ravishing today as you did all those years ago.” Findley was like an aristocrat out of a PBS Masterpiece Theatre series, with high-society manners and the sheen of wealth, but a cutting edge just below the surface. “And this must be your boyfriend. Or is he your bodyguard?” He smiled, oozing smarm instead of charm.
“Do I need a bodyguard?” she asked, her voice without a trace of anxiety.
“From me?” He laid the flat of his hand against his chest as though shocked she could think such a thing. “Never. Do have a seat.”
Gideon held the farthest chair out for her, then pulled his own as close to hers as possible. Throughout this ordeal, he wanted her to feel him there beside her, to know that he was there for her. No matter what Findley dished out.
A waiter appeared promptly to take their drink orders. Both Rosie and Gideon stuck with water.
Gideon took those moments to assess Archibald Findley. He was impeccably dressed in a blue suit, his shirt crisply white, his striped blue tie tacked down with a winking ruby stickpin. He’d slicked his hair back with some gel, the black shot through with streaks of gray. He gazed at Rosie out of eyes so deep they were almost black. Snake eyes.
He looked like a movie gangster hiding out in the back of his favorite Italian restaurant. Gideon half expected The Godfather theme to start playing.
“Tell me all that you’ve been up to since I last saw you,” Findley requested.
You mean since you dumped her, pregnant and alone. Gideon felt a growl rise up in his throat. But on the drive over, Rosie had said she wanted to do the talking. Though he knew she was right—she needed to be in control, and he understood why—it was still difficult to keep quiet counsel when in the presence of such scum. It had to be enough for Gideon to be her muscle today. Still, if Findley so much as blinked out of turn, Gideon would destroy him.
“I got my degree in accounting,” she told her ex, “and I have a good job in a CPA firm.”
“I’m so glad you continued with your schooling, given how difficult it is to break into the art world. It’s always good to have a backup plan. I believe you’ll remember I told you that.” Findley tried to pat her hand, but she pulled away before he could.
“What do you want, Archie?”
“Archibald,” he corrected with an oily smile, enough to grease the wheels on a track. “I simply want to catch up with you after all this time.”
“Like I said, I’m fine,” Rosie said, her eyes narrowed, her nostrils slightly flared.
“And what about the child?”
“My child is fine.”
Findley reached out again, on the pretense of touching her hand, when it was clear that all he really wanted was to bat her around like a feline playing with its prey before it pounces.
Again, Rosie moved out of reach, leaning back, crossing her arms and legs while also shifting her body closer to Gideon.
The waiter arrived with another whiskey for Findley, scooping u
p the empty glass. Her ex swirled the ice cubes in his new glass. “It must be very hard being a single mom,” Archie noted.
“It’s been no trouble at all.” She shook her head, tossing a curl away from her temple. “No thanks to you.”
“You knew I had no choice at the time,” Archie said with an air of regret. Regret someone else might have believed was real had they not already been primed to see the scumbag he was. “But I’ve regretted the necessity every day since.”
“Whatever you’ve done and whatever you regret make no difference to me,” Rosie replied.
Archie made a little face, as though he was disappointed in both her and her response. “Whatever you say, I’m sure it’s very hard to raise a child on your own. What with medical bills, child care, school fees—it must get harder all the time.”
Gideon wanted to fire back by informing the slimeball that Rosie had plenty of friends to help and support her. But he couldn’t do anything to jeopardize their mission—they needed to know what the guy wanted. What’s more, they couldn’t risk giving Findley ammunition for any plan he had in mind.
“We’re fine, Archie. We’ve been fine since the day you left. In fact, that day was a blessing. We don’t need anything from you. We never did.”
He heaved a dramatic sigh. “Don’t you think a child should know his father? Especially when I could be so good to the boy, give Jorge everything he’s currently lacking. I’m sure you’d love to send him to a better school than the one he attends now.”
Her shiver at the fact that Archie knew Jorge’s name was almost imperceptible. Gideon felt it only because they were sitting so close. Thankfully, Rosie didn’t give away a thing. “My child’s school is just fine.”
“But think of how much easier your life could be.” He leaned in, lowered his voice. “You wouldn’t have to scrimp and save.” He spared a condescending glance for Gideon. “You could even go out with men of a higher quality than a beefcake bouncer.”