Scandal Never Sleeps (5 page)

At the moment, Everly wasn’t interested in wine.

She glanced over her shoulder at her rescuer. The sexiness didn’t end with his voice. Vaguely, she noted that while she’d had to shove her way through the crowd, the mass of humanity had seemingly parted for him. He stood alone, though closer to her than strictly necessary. Tall and broad, with close-cropped golden brown hair and the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, her Good Samaritan stared down at her with a bit of a smile. Her tummy knotted.

“He needs to know what kind of wine you’d like. Let me guess.” He gave her a considering stare. “A sweet red?”

She shook her head. “No. Um, a sauvignon blanc. I prefer white wine. Red tends to upset my reflux.”

Way to go, Everly.
That was a super sexy comeback to the hottest man she’d ever met. Of course he wanted to know about her digestive issues.

“Well, we wouldn’t want that.” A hint of amusement lurked in his voice. “The lady will take a sauvignon blanc, and I’ll have a Scotch. The Glenlivet twenty-five.”

The bartender immediately went to work.

“Thanks.” She felt herself blushing. She probably looked like an idiot schoolgirl to him and could only hope she hadn’t drooled. She’d never seen him before, but she would bet he belonged in the VIP room. Maybe he was an actor. He certainly looked good enough to be on the screen. “I couldn’t seem to get him to hear me.”

Mr. Gorgeous’s lips curved up as he leaned against the bar. “I don’t think his ears are the problem. The man seems a bit blind to me.”

Everly wasn’t sure what he meant, but she found it impossible to look away from him. “I guess he’s really busy tonight. The place is packed. I even heard the strangest rumor that the president is here.”

The man laughed and sidled closer. “I’m sure the leader of the free world can get better booze at the White House.” He held out that big hand of his. “Name’s Gabriel.”

Like the archangel except in a really well-cut suit. His name was fitting. She put her hand in his, and he immediately covered it with his other. His palms swallowed her hand, the heat from his skin warming her own.

“I’m, um . . . Eve. I-it’s nice to meet you.”

She didn’t like the idea of this man calling her the same thing as all her business associates. Only her family had ever called her Eve. Tonight, she didn’t want to be the woman worrying about her job and how she was going to afford her loft. She’d rather be someone whose only pressing concern was to flirt with a hot guy. This conversation was likely to go nowhere, but she could fantasize about the handsome stranger.

Everly knew she was something of a wunderkind computer geek, but maybe Eve could be a flirty seductress. Eve could drink her wine and pretend that the gorgeous man beside her saw her as an irresistible woman.

Yes, she would like to be Eve tonight.

“It’s nice to meet you, Eve. You live around here?”

She shook her head. “No, I have a place in Brooklyn. How about you?”

“I was born on the Upper East Side, but I get out as often as possible.”

The bartender put the drinks in front of them. “Here you go, sir.”

Gabriel passed him what looked like two hundred-dollar bills. “Keep the change.”

So he was wealthy. It wasn’t surprising since he’d admitted he’d been born in this part of town. She sipped her fifteen-dollar glass of wine. “You’re a generous man.”

He took a healthy swig of Scotch. “Not really. This is expensive booze. I can’t help it; I’m a Scotch snob. I like it to be a single malt and at least able to vote. I’m more flexible on my other tastes.” He cast a sidelong glance back toward the table she’d been sitting at. “Is that your husband over there?”

Everly looked back. Scott was sitting by himself again, Tavia now engrossed in another conversation at a nearby table with others on Crawford’s management team, gesticulating as quickly as her lips moved. “No. He’s just a friend. I’m not exactly his type.”

“Then most men here tonight are blind it seems.”

She could almost feel his gaze like a physical caress, moving from her eyes to her chest. His stare lingered there for a moment before he shook his head as though he was correcting himself. At his inspection, she stifled the urge to shiver. “Are you with the VIP party that’s occupying all the waitstaff?”

He grimaced, though it did nothing to mar his beauty. “I’m afraid I am, but I needed to get out for a minute. I thought I’d stretch my legs and fend for myself. Now I’m happy I did. I saw you on the street earlier.”

“Really?” He’d noticed her?

Gabriel nodded. “You were walking down Eighty-fourth. I suppose you were coming here. Were you with the crowd at the church?”

Nope, she’d hovered near the back, not wanting to see the casket that represented the death of a friend she would long mourn. She didn’t want to talk about the funeral now. Since Gabriel lived in the area, he’d probably been doing something happier today. Why bring down his mood, too? Besides, tonight she was Eve—a woman without problems. “I was in the mood for a drink.”

“Well, I was, too. Maybe we can share a couple. This place is crowded though.”

Was he merely making an observation or actually suggesting she leave with him? Her heart rate tripled. Yes, she knew she shouldn’t run off with a stranger. Serial killers could be beautiful, too. And yet, the idea of getting to know this man intrigued her.

“Gabe? Come on, man. We’re waiting on you. They found the cigars, but Zack won’t light up until you come back.” A tall, muscular man with chocolate eyes and black hair in a buzz cut joined them, glancing at her with a smile. “Hello. My name’s Dax. What’s yours?”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Her name is I Saw Her First.”

Dax put his hands up as if to concede the point. He looked terribly amused. “Well, that’s a lovely name, but Gabe needs to go see our old friend, who won’t be here much longer because he has important things to do. He’s leaving in twenty minutes. Something about a crisis in the Middle East. Like that won’t be there tomorrow.”

“All right.” Gabriel sent her what seemed to be a regretful smile. “It was nice to meet you, Eve. I don’t suppose you’re hanging out here all night?”

She didn’t want to let him walk away, but apparently her little fantasy was going to end sooner than expected. And it was probably for the best. Running off with a stranger for a hot fling while her life was in turmoil wasn’t smart . . . though the escape would have been nice. “No. But it was nice to meet you. Thanks for the drink.”

Before she was tempted to blurt out her phone number, Everly turned away and rejoined Scott.

“Who’s the hottie?” He watched Gabriel and Dax disappear into the back of the bar. “Or should I say
hotties
, plural? I didn’t get a good look at them, but you can tell a lot from a man’s backside. Tell me one of them is gay and we’re about to get lucky.”

She sighed and took another sip of what would likely be her last glass of wine for the night. “Nope. We’re definitely not getting lucky.”

The kind of luck it took to snag gorgeous Gabriel only seemed to happen to other girls. She took another drink and wished she’d been able to play Eve a little longer.

G
abe couldn’t stop thinking about Eve. He tried to focus on the conversation around him, but all he could see were those wide hazel eyes and the way her reddish hair tumbled around her shoulders, curling down to those lush breasts.

It had been a very long time since he’d gotten hard simply by looking at a woman.

“I’m just saying, Liz is going to be pissed.” Roman had ditched his jacket and tie and looked every inch the Beltway player he was. He sat back and puffed on his cigar. “Did you tell her?”

Zack shook his head. “I’m not stupid. I’m going to tell her I came up here to meet with the UN delegation from . . . I don’t know. Pick some war-torn country. I’ll tell her I was trying to make peace or something.”

Elizabeth Matthews was Zack’s press secretary but she’d also served as his work wife since Joy’s death. Gabriel was grateful Zack had her to lean on. His old friend had been so hollow for the longest time. Even as he’d accepted the highest office in the nation, Gabe had
known his friend felt dead inside. Two years into his first term, and he was finally joking again. Gabe suspected lovely blonde Liz had a lot to do with that.

“Zack, come on, man. You’re the leader of the free world and you’re scared of your press secretary?” Connor shook his head.

Roman patted his boss on the back. “We’re all scared of Liz. She might look cute, but that woman has three rows of teeth and they’re all razor sharp. Trust me. When she finds out—and she will find out because she’s also got eyes in the back of her head—she’ll kick his ass.”

“I’m sure kicking isn’t what Zack would like to do to her ass.” Dax winked. “Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

They all looked to Zack, but he laughed. “You’ve spent way too much time on that boat of yours, man. You’ve forgotten the fine art of diplomacy.”

“I don’t think he ever had it,” Gabe replied. “Don’t you remember Dax was the one who got us all detention because he told the math teacher where to stick his calculator?”

Dax shook his head. “Yeah, that was not a fun day. Mad snuck out the back window because he had a date, and we had to cover for him. Asshole.”

Connor laughed. “Damn, but I’m going to miss him.” He shook his head as though clearing his thoughts. “So, are you ever going to give in to temptation and ask Liz out?”

Zack scoffed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my job is kind of demanding. I don’t have a ton of time for dating.”

Gabe leaned forward, warming to the topic. “Excuses, man. We’ve all got demanding jobs. You know you like her.”

“Yes, you all have demanding jobs. And how many of you are married?” Zack pointed out. “None. Zero. Zilch. Besides me, Dax is the only one of you to give matrimony a whirl, and that didn’t work out so well.”

“Hey, I am looking for the next Mrs. Spencer,” Dax said. “Who will surely be an ex after a year or two on the job.”

“Well, naturally, since you admit being your wife is work,” Roman shot back. “Besides, I think it’s traditionally called
marriage
.”

“Hey, military wives call it a job. They don’t have it easy. There’s a reason Courtney left me,” Dax admitted. “But that shouldn’t stop Zack from sneaking around the White House and getting a little something-something. Tell me you haven’t thought about doing it in the Lincoln Bedroom. Or in that room with all the china. Why the fuck do you need all that china? How many plates does one man need?”

Zack took the ribbing with a good-natured wave of his hand. “Stop. You’re killing me. And no, I am not pursuing Liz. I can’t take a crap without the press trying to snap a picture. Have you seen that blog? What’s the name?”

“Capitol Scandals,” Roman supplied with a hearty groan. “It’s the hottest thing in DC right now. I’ve tried to get it shut down five times. It keeps popping back up like a rat that won’t eat the poison. I would love to get hold of whoever runs that sucker.”

“They ran a report on the size of my dick. I’m not kidding you. It was called ‘A Well Hung Commander-In-Chief.’ Apparently they talked to some of the women I dated before I got married.” Zack sighed. “I can’t date now. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t manage it. The press would be all over the poor woman. I wouldn’t put any female through the daily grind of being the president’s girlfriend. It’s better this way. I can focus on the job.”

“You can focus when you haven’t had sex in . . . what, a couple of years? I think I’d go a little crazy,” Connor admitted.

“I can’t have the woman I want, so what’s the point?” Zack sat back.

Gabe was fairly certain he wasn’t talking about his wife. He’d seen Zack and Joy together. They’d been more like friends and partners than ardent lovers. He certainly hadn’t sensed any passion in their political marriage. She’d come from a wealthy family and possessed a graciousness that won Zack as many votes as his policies. But when Zack and Liz occupied the same room, electricity arced between them, strong and palpable.

Kind of like the electricity Gabe felt between him and Eve. Lovely, sexy Eve.

“Well, I think we should talk about who’s taking home Little Miss ‘I Saw Her First,’” Dax said with a shit-eating grin.

“Someone called dibs?” Connor asked, proving that even a super spy could sound like a goofy teenager under the right circumstances.

Back when they’d been kids, the girls were few and far between, since they’d attended an all-boys school. When they’d found themselves in the presence of a female, they’d taken to calling dibs. It was silly and juvenile, but he freaking had dibs on Eve.

“I was just talking to a woman at the bar,” Gabe explained. “She was having trouble getting a drink, so I helped her out.”

“Did she lose the drink in her breasts?” Dax asked. “Because you seemed to be trying to find it there with your stare.”

“Asshat. She was just a nice woman.”
With a great rack.
“She’s definitely not the next ex–Mrs. Spencer.”

Gabe wondered what she was doing now. It was getting late. He’d been back here with the guys longer than twenty minutes, so she’d probably already left, likely on her way home to Brooklyn. He hadn’t even gotten her last name. A tragic oversight on his part.

Roman was frowning down at his phone. “Motherfucker. Okay, Connor, I need you to figure out who’s running Capitol Scandals and assassinate him.”

“I’m an analyst,” Connor began. “I don’t do assassinations. What did the loudmouth write now?”

Roman squared his jaw, his lips thinning in a sure sign of anger. “He’s claiming Maddox was murdered.”

The knot that had been sitting in Gabe’s gut for days tightened. “What proof does that prick have?”

Roman scrolled down the screen of his phone, scanning the text. “He claims he has an inside source. I don’t know if that’s the FAA, NTSB, or someone else. Damn it, I hate this. I fucking hate this.” His phone hit the wall with a violent thud.

Grief. It sat there, a tightrope connecting them all. They could laugh and joke and pretend everything was normal, but Maddox was dead, and a piece of them had been ripped away forever. It was another reminder that their childhood was gone.

“I’ll look into it.” Connor put a hand on Roman’s shoulder. “I haven’t taken a vacation in years, so I’ve accrued tons of time off. I’m taking it now. Since I’m off the clock, I’ll figure out who the source is and shut them down.”

“Shut down the whole fucking site. They’re vultures.” Roman’s head fell back, and he took a long breath. When he brought it back up, his eyes were infinitely tired. “Sorry. It’s been a long week.”

Since Gabe had gotten the news, it seemed as though time had slowed to an unbearable crawl. The idea that now they would have to hear conspiracy theories about Mad’s death played out in the media for months weighed him down. “His plane crashed. Are they saying someone caused it?”

Zack stood and reached for the bottle of vodka he’d ordered. “They’re flashing salacious headlines to grow their readership. You have to ignore it. I promise I’ll get in touch when the FAA report comes in.” He poured a shot. “Come on, guys. I’ve only got a few minutes before I have to go. Let’s not waste it on things we can’t control.”

Zack was right. There was nothing they could do about any of it tonight, just like Gabe couldn’t fix the mess his sister was in. And he couldn’t change the fact that Mad was gone and he felt hollow inside. He could, however, honor his friend.

Gabe held up his glass. “To Mad.”

They all raised their drinks.

“Za ná-shoo dróo-zhboo,”
Zack said in a perfect Russian accent, his vodka held high.

To our friendship. Zack had spent seven years with his parents in Moscow. His father had been the U.S. ambassador, so Zack had learned the language fluently as a kid.

Gabe remembered the first time they’d snuck out of the dorms and
gathered in the groundskeeper’s shed. Mad had filched a bottle of bourbon from the headmaster, and they’d all taken shots. And Zack had said those same words in Russian.
To our friendship.

A bittersweet moment passed as they drank, that memory fresh in Gabe’s mind because one of them was missing—and would be forever.

“No more of that,” Dax said, putting his glass down. “Mad would be horrified to know we’re getting emotional. Now let’s talk about how we’re going to get Gabe laid tonight because I, for one, think he needs it.”

The last thing he needed was his friends thinking he needed help getting sex. “Not happening, guys. Do you think I’ve forgotten the incident a few years back?”

“I know you forgot it.” Roman stood and stretched. “You couldn’t possibly remember after everything you had to drink that night.”

“I woke up in Jersey with three women who swear I asked them to marry me. I snuck out when they started pulling each other’s hair. That catfight saved me. No, thanks. I’ll find my own dates.”

His twenties really had been interesting. His thirties . . . not so much. Since his father had passed, he’d lost himself in responsibility, and now he’d give just about anything for a few hours without thinking of all the people relying on him. Was asking for an evening of guilty pleasure really too much?

“You found a date, then left her? You’re off your game, man,” Dax ribbed.

“Do you mean the chick with the strawberry-blond hair I saw you talking to earlier? Because if not, then I totally call dibs.” Roman was standing at the door, peeking around the corner. “Damn. That girl is hot. She’s got some curves on her, unlike most of the other ladies here. Does no woman in this town eat cheeseburgers?”

Eve was still here? Gabe got to his feet and strode across the small room. He’d been sure she would be gone. He followed Roman’s line of sight.

She was sitting alone now, pulling out her wallet. She looked
around the bar as though searching for someone. When her pretty hazel eyes found his, they flared briefly, but then she suddenly seemed to find the table deeply interesting.

“Oh, you need to hit that.” Roman elbowed him. “I’d sure like to.”

Gabe stepped back, returning to his seat. He was in a bad place and he’d be using her to forget his troubles. It wasn’t fair. “I can’t use my best friend’s funeral to get laid.”

Zack stared at him as if he’d lost his damn mind. “We’re talking about Mad. I’m surprised he didn’t ask for an orgy to be held over his casket.”

Gabe couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, he left a hooker fund—twenty grand—for any of us who happened to be single at the time of his death and in need of temporary solace.”

Gabe didn’t want a hooker. He wanted Eve, and she was about to walk out the door. Maybe if he was honest about what he wanted, she wouldn’t be hurt. Maybe she’d come here for a drink because she needed something, too.

All he knew was he would regret it forever if he let her walk out.

He grabbed his jacket. “I’ll talk to you guys later.”

“Treat the lady right, Gabriel,” Dax said with a grin.

He intended to. He hoped he could convince her to give him a chance because suddenly nothing seemed more important than spending the rest of the night with her.

•   •   •

I
t really was time to head home. Everly wasn’t sure why she hadn’t left when Scott had. That wasn’t exactly true. She knew what she was waiting for, or more specifically, whom. She simply wasn’t sure why.

She dragged out the necessary cash to pay her bill. Scott had found the courage to talk to his crush. He’d left with Harry from accounting thirty minutes earlier. It was already dark, and she needed to get home. Instead, she’d sat around, nursing her drink and hoping for another glimpse of Gabriel.

Now she wished she’d left sooner. He’d caught her staring. Of course, he’d been with a friend. The minute his gaze had found hers, she’d put her head down. When she looked back up, he’d been gone.

Was he waiting for her to leave? He might think she was some kind of creepy female stalker. If he was an actor or someone famous, he might have to deal with adoration from strangers constantly. It was definitely past time to exit. She just lacked the check. And damn it, there was never a waitress around when she needed one.

She glanced at her cell while she waited and found a text. The number came up as unknown.