All of Me by Tiffany Patterson

Chapter 23

Lena

Two weeks after the morning Gabe abruptly left to go to his office, I sat in his kitchen, alone, eating the breakfast he’d prepared. I was far from bored since I had two songs that I planned to arrange some melodies for. But I missed him.

Though Gabe had awakened me with his head between my thighs, he still left early, yet again.

It’d been a month since our trip to New York, and I’d come back to a ninety-something degree house. Jodi had found a repairman to fix the air conditioner, but anytime I even brought up the idea of going back to the house, Gabe had some reason why I should wait.

When the AC first got fixed, the reasoning was that the house needed a few days for the temperature to lower. Then he said he suspected there might be an issue with the security system since the power had gone out. There was another reason like it would take too long to relocate all the equipment I’d brought over to his place back to the cabin.

The truth was, I let the excuses slide because I didn’t want to leave. Yet, as I sat there, eating my breakfast, alone for the third time that week, I missed him. But I knew things at No Sweat were happening that he needed to focus on.

I stabbed my last piece of waffle with my fork before swirling it around in the remainder of my syrup. After stuffing the fluffy goodness into my mouth, I slowly drifted my eyes shut. Ever since Gabe’s declaration on why waffles were superior to pancakes, I had to say I appreciated them more. Or maybe it was because he’d made the waffles before he’d left for work.

Either way, the food was good. I felt thoroughly satisfied as I cleaned up the kitchen, placing the dishes in the dishwasher, before heading up to the empty bedroom that Gabe seamlessly converted into a studio for me.

The room sat two doors down from the master bedroom. Barefoot, I padded down the hall, running my fingers along the wall, smiling at the pictures of Gabe with his father and brothers and a few pictures of him with a guy he pointed out as Preston.

Preston, I knew, was his business partner, though I had yet to meet him in person. I looked at one image of Gabe and Preston standing side by side, arms folded in their wrestling spandex. Gabe, though about ten years younger, still looked imposing and as handsome as ever.

Preston was about an inch shorter than Gabe but slightly more muscular. His dark eyes were tough to read, and he appeared as much of a force as Gabe.

I shook my head and continued into the room. There was a melody that kept replaying in my head, and it wouldn’t leave. I thought it would go perfectly with the song I’d written a week earlier.

I sat down and began humming the melody. I played a few keys on the keyboard, liking the tune, at which time I pressed the record button. The lyrics floated from my lips, and I lost myself in the song.

After tweaking it here and there, I replayed the song, and that giddy excitement overcame me at hearing what I knew would be my first completed song for this album.

I started work on another arrangement, and before I knew it, a few hours flew by. It must’ve been a few hours later when my phone buzzed. I rolled my eyes before heading over to the bed where my phone laid.

It was probably a text from my parents asking for money or for me to get them reservations at someplace where they had no business dining.

Possibly, it was Demetria, emailing me something that I needed to know.

When I turned my phone over, I realized that the buzzing I’d heard wasn’t a text or even a phone call but a social media notification. I kept most of my notifications off and only had downloaded one social media platform to my phone since I received it.

The photographer I worked with in New York wanted to send a few shots via Instagram. I silently hoped that was what the notification was about.

That wasn’t the case.

As I stood there with my phone in my hand, repeatedly buzzing with new notifications, my belly flip flopped. I knew something wasn’t right. The last time I awoke to so many messages had been when that video of me setting fire to Nate’s belongings had gone viral.

I hovered my finger over the phone screen, mentally going back and forth on whether or not I should ignore whatever it was. I glanced back over my shoulder, looking at my production equipment and the notepad next to it.

I was finally back to writing again. And, though I hadn’t shown my songs to anyone else, I felt like my writing was on another level. The last thing I needed was to get distracted with whatever caused my notifications to blow up.

More buzzing in my hand from the phone. Two new email notifications popped up. My stomach filled with dread, and I knew there was no way I could go back to writing without finding out what was happening first.

“Welp.” I shrugged my shoulders and decided to rip the Band-Aid off. Hell, whatever it was, it couldn’t be that bad. I hadn’t burned up anything lately, so I had that going for me.

I pressed the button to open my email and saw two emails from Demetria. When I opened the first one, a somewhat blurry picture in a darkened nightclub stared back at me. I blinked a few times before zooming in on the photo.

I gasped and covered my mouth. The image was of Gabe and me in New York. That night we went out after having dinner with my parents.

In the photo, Gabe stood behind me, his hands on my thighs, bunching my dress up nearly to the waist. My arms were around his neck, pulling his head down low. Our lips almost touched. Gabriel faced away from the camera, semi blocking my face. It was somewhat of a compromising position, not easily explained as simply dancing with a random guy on the dance floor.

However, due to the positions of our faces, it was hard to make out who it was in the photo. Perhaps, a stranger looking in wouldn’t be able to tell it was me.

When I scrolled down, what little hope I had was dashed at the sight of another picture. This one was just as sensual. Gabe’s hands were all over me as I stared up at him, laughing with my arms around his neck. Our faces weren’t hidden this time, however.

My thumb scrolled lower but stopped at the caption.

It looks like Lena Clarkson has moved on. She was spotted out in New York with her new lover, MMA fighter Gabriel Townsend.

I realized this was a screenshot from No Shade, one of the largest celebrity gossip pages on Instagram.

Stupidly, my desire to dig deeper overwhelmed me, and I ended up navigating out of my email and logging into Instagram. I pulled up No Shade’s page and instantly saw the post with the same pictures Demetria sent me.

Like a fool begging to be burned, I clicked on the post and scanned the comments section.

I paced the room as I read.

“What? Lena dating white boys now?” -smoothtalker001

“Damn, they practically f*cking on the dance floor. So trashy.” -originalone86

“He better hope she doesn’t burn all his sh*t too.” -beautyqueen906

“Oh, he must like crazy black chicks.” -ariesmonster69

I pressed the button to exit the app and squeezed my eyes tightly shut. The words of strangers shouldn’t get to me, but they did. The assumptions made by thousands of people about my personal life felt like a punch to my stomach. The way they’d devalued my relationship with Gabe.

I started to toss my phone to the floor, but it buzzed again, and that time it was a call from Demetria.

“Yeah?” I mumbled into the phone.

“Did you get my emails?”

With a sigh, I said, “Yes.”

“I’m so sorry, Lena. It must’ve been someone in the club that recognized you.”

“Yeah.”

I thought I’d been smart with my trip to New York. I hadn’t put my reservations under my name, didn’t tell many people I was going, and got a private room when we went to dinner with my parents. The nightclub we went to wasn’t in the heart of some of the city’s busiest districts. It was obscure, not exactly a place celebs flocked to.

I thought I was safe.

“Maybe …” Demetria started but didn’t finish.

“Maybe what?” I asked.

She cleared her throat. “I was just thinking, you know, like those girls you were with that night at Nate’s?”

I stiffened. I hadn’t seen any of those women since someone released that video to the world. But I could guess at what Demetria was getting at.

“I mean, one of them had to be the one to upload the video or sell it. What if this time around it was Gabe?”

“Demetria,” I said sternly.

“Please don’t get upset with me. I was throwing out the idea. You know how this business is. People from all angles are coming at you to get what they want.”

My knees felt weak at the idea of Gabriel doing something like that. I slumped against the side of the bed.

“Listen, just, um, you know the script. If anyone reaches out for a comment or anything, you don’t know shit,” I instructed.

“Your personal life is private and is not up for public fodder,” she said, repeating the same statement that my PR company had put out after everything happened with Nate.

“Right.” I pulled my phone from my ear when it beeped. “Demetria, I gotta go. I’ll call you back later.”

I didn’t wait for her to say anything as I clicked over to the other line.

“Ray.”

“Do you need me to come down there?” Rayven asked, her voice sounding impatient.

“I guess you saw the photos.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Umhm,” she answered. “It happened in New York, and they didn’t mention you being in Texas at all. But it’s only a matter of time before someone connects you with Texas since Gabriel is from there.”

I sighed, hating that she was right.

“No one’s likely coming down here to get pictures of me.”

“Probably not, but it could still pose a safety issue. I’ll be on the next plane.”

“No,” I said firmly. “That’s not necessary. You do whatever it is you need to do where you are. I’m fine down here, really.”

“Are you sure, Lena? How do you know he isn’t behind these photos?”

Fear pushed through me. It was one thing for Demetria to mention Gabe possibly being behind the photos, but hearing Rayven ask the same question had me rethinking my stance.

I shook my head. “He isn’t. I’ve been in Texas for three months before that trip. Why would he wait until we were in New York to let something like that leak?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone for too long. I could almost hear the gears churning in Rayven’s head.

“Why do men do half the shit they do?” she asked disdainfully.

“It’s only a photo. It’s not that big of a deal. My private life is off limits.”

“Does he know that?”

I assumed she was talking about Gabriel. I stood from the bed and leaned my head against one of the wooden pillars at the edge of it.

“He wouldn’t do this.” My voice was soft.

Rayven snorted. “Yeah, it’s not like there’s a great track record in our family for choosing quality men or anything.”

I hated how right she was.

My father was terrible when it came to relationships. Rayven’s mother and my mother were sisters. Her parents had divorced years ago and still could barely manage to be in the same room. Her father was cold and distant. Always had been.

“I warned you before I left about wolves.”

“I know, Rayven. Let it go. This wasn’t Gabe.”

“Right. A wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing is still a wolf.”

“Why would he do this?”

“He’s a businessman, right?” she asked. “In addition to being a fighter, he runs a business. Maybe he wanted publicity for his company. What if he thinks being seen in public with you will drive business his way? Hell, maybe he’s just a damn clout chaser. Who knows? What I do know is that he isn’t the one coming out of this looking bad.”

I remembered back to the comments on the No Shade page. Most of the comments were directed at me.

“Men are always able to walk away smelling like roses while we’re left holding the bag,” she said.

My shoulders sagged.

“I gotta go,” I said.

“Go where? Do you need me down there?”

“No,” I told her. “I’ll call you if I need you.” I hung up the phone and headed out of the room. I grabbed my shoulder bag and keys to my rental before leaving. There was only one person who could genuinely answer whether he’d done this or not. And I wanted to look him in the eye while he answered me.

* * *

It didn’t makesense that Gabe would be the one to do this, but I still needed to ask. Like Rayven had said, my judgment when it came to men was questionable. It was built into my DNA. My last relationship all but proved that.

I was so sick of being lied to and manipulated by people. The people who were supposed to be the closest to me often became the ones that I could trust the least.

I thought I’d formed a tough outer shell from it all, but as I drove over to No Sweat, I could feel the tears pricking the backs of my eyes. The questions that Demetria and Rayven both brought up kept running through my head. Gabe had been the one to suggest we go to that club that night. He told me his friend from college owned it. If anything, he would’ve had the opportunity to set up those photos.

But then again, it could've been a random stranger in the club who recognized either one of us. Everyone had a camera phone these days, and many people were willing to sell photos to a gossip site for money.

I made it to No Sweat and barged through the door of the gym. I headed to the staircase and ran up the steps to get to his office.

Energy buzzed through my veins as the questions in my mind continued to mount. I didn’t want to believe that Gabe could’ve done something like this, but then again, who wants to think that the man they’re in love—

Not love. Like. The man they like could be capable of deceiving them.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Clarkson,” the office assistant greeted.

“Is Gabriel here?” I asked, scanning the office with my gaze.

“Uh, yes, he’s in his office. Let me give him a call.”

“No, don’t,” I said, holding my hand up. I wanted this visit to be as much of a surprise as possible. That way, his reaction would be genuine.

I didn’t wait for her reply before rounding the corner toward Gabriel’s office.

I knocked on the closed door.

“Miriam? Come in,” his deep timbre instructed.

I pushed through the door. Gabe glanced over his shoulder away from his computer. Surprise registered in those damn oddly colored eyes of his, and I had to look at a different point on his face.

“Did you do this?” I asked, shutting the door behind me.

He rose from his seat with a deep wrinkle in between his eyebrows. “Do what?”

I held up my phone and opened the email Demetria sent before turning the screen to face him.

“This.”

His frown deepened as he took the phone from my hand. He read it over, scanning the photos.

“Fuck.”

“Did you do this?”

His gaze was sharp as it turned on me. “Are you asking me if I sold photos of us in New York to a damn gossip site?” There was a guttural undercurrent in his voice. It made me think twice about what I was asking him, but still, I pressed forward.

“Yes. That’s what I’m asking.” I lifted my chin and stared at him, still avoiding his direct gaze, though.

“Lena.” He took a step forward. “Why in the hell would I have these pictures taken and sold?”

It was the same question I’d asked over and over in the car on the way here.

I opened my mouth, but no reasoning came. However, just because I couldn’t think of one didn’t mean there wasn’t one.

“Answer the question, Gabriel. Did you have these images taken and sold?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Fuck no. Satisfied?” He ran his free hand through his hair.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I demanded.

“Because I have no reason to lie. To you or anyone else.”

I took a step back and stared him up and down. I wanted so badly to believe him, to know that he was telling me the truth, but then memories from my past came rushing back. Betrayal from so-called friends who laughed with me but then would run to reporters and gossip mags about any little thing I opened up to them about.

There were private things that I only told my ex-fiancé but somehow had made it onto the blogs. When I questioned him about it, he told me I was damned crazy. That I must’ve told someone else, and they shared it. He said it so much that it made my head spin. I started to believe him.

By the time I’d left Nate, I had trouble figuring which way was up and which was down.

“Are you sure?” I asked, holding up my hand when Gabe tried to take another step closer.

“There is nothing to be sure about, Cin. It’s a damn fact that I would never betray your trust like that. I know how much you wanted to keep that trip to New York private. And I wouldn’t compromise your safety or trust by doing some bullshit like this.”

He stared at the phone screen again, glaring at the photo. His jaw flexed and tightened.

I recounted all of the ways over the past few months that Gabe had gone out of his way to ensure I had the privacy I wanted. In the beginning, he constantly assured me that the restaurants we went to were secure or would even call ahead to request a private seating area. He made our reservations as discreetly as possible in New York.

He even understood when I opted not to sit in the front row with him at the exhibition fight. I’d watched the fight backstage at the arena in a private room. Gabe had come back to watch it with me about halfway through.

I took a step back and blinked my eyes shut before opening them again. When I did, I saw him watching me.

“Tell me you believe me,” he implored.

“I—" I shook my head.

“Tell me.”

I pushed out a breath. “I believe you.”

He started to say something, but his door abruptly opened.

“I tracked down Eli,” Preston said impatiently. He dropped a pointed gaze toward me as if realizing Gabe wasn’t alone. His dark eyes widened briefly before he scowled.

“Not now,” Gabe snapped.

“You know this can’t wait,” Preston insisted.

“I should go,” I interrupted, glancing between Preston and Gabe. There was obvious tension between the two.

Gabe made another step toward me, but I held up my hand. “It’s fine. I’ll see you later.” I turned, but stopped a few feet from the door, which Preston stood beside. “Nice to meet you, Preston,” I said, though we hadn’t actually met.

He nodded, still scowling. “Same.”

I exited the room, closing the door behind me. I heard Gabe call my name again, but I didn’t turn around. It was best for the both of us to get some space. He had important matters he needed to get back to.

I needed to think.