The Glimpsing (20 page)

Felix seemed to settle in relief.
 
A smile started to shine through on his face.

What he was offering was something she simply could not resist.
 
For too long she’d been trapped between Jack and Portia.
 
For too long she’d sensed the guilt in her bosom, guilt that had now evolved into a monster, into a dark premonition that insisted some great evil lie ahead.
 
Now there was Felix, a godsend, a way of escape.
 
And unlike Jack, he came free of charge: without guilt, without the burden of a bad conscience, without the betrayal of her best friend.
 
With a simple gesture, a mere outstretched hand, he was offering the blindingly bright prospect of unsullied happiness.
 
She’d have to be a fool not to take it.

But a fool was exactly what Gabrielle was going to be.

Felix had intended to bring her hand up and to kiss it, but she slowly eased it away.
 
She watched thoroughly pained as his face contracted with surprise.
 
She couldn’t go through with it, she suddenly realized, because she was no longer in love with Felix.
 
She was in love with Jack.
 
And she couldn’t give him up, even with the guilt, even with the certainty that their affair would someday devastate Portia.
 
Love simply would not let her leave him.

Felix stared at his empty palm for some time.
 
Finally, he closed his hand and pulled it away. He then looked up at her somberly.
 
“I knew you were lying.
 
You are in love, aren’t you?”

Gabrielle’s mouth parted, but the words got lost.

Felix grinned miserably, stood, turned, and slowly walked away.
 
When he’d made it to the door, Gabrielle called to him. “Felix.”

He stopped, but did not turn.

“I’m not a good girl,” she said tearfully.

Felix turned his head, as if intending to look over his shoulder, but then turned back.
 
He then pushed the door open, and departed the restaurant.

Gabrielle watched him go, then laid her head to the table, and wept bitterly.

Jack Parke was lying on his stomach, his face smashed
suffocatingly
into a pillow, his arms and legs jig sawing out from his body like the appendages of a malformed doll.
 
Rolling onto his back, he opened his eyes and was immediately stung by the golden brilliance of a sunlit morn.
 
He brought his hands up and covered his face, then began massaging it with hands that felt shockingly feeble.
 
It was as mushy and malleable as putty.
 
Even without benefit of a mirror, he could feel the dark circles cupping his eyes.

He turned his head and peered at the clock.
 
7:34am
.
 
 
He had been asleep for over thirteen hours, and had gone more than two hours beyond the time his body naturally awoke him.
 
And yet he felt like he hadn’t slept a wink.

He turned his head toward the gallery and peered at the painting.
 
Just seconds ago, or so it seemed, he’d been standing before it, asking Rose about the man glaring at him so hotly from inside.
 
Rose had responded with a quip about the man not liking him, and then everything had gone black.
 
Now the man’s face had returned to its normal, absent gaze, and Rose, no longer lying on his bed, was now back inside the painting as if she’d never left.
 
All of this suggested that last night’s encounter with her had been nothing more than a dream.
 
But as impossible as that seemed, Jack had little doubt that wasn’t true.
 
Last night had been far from a fiction.
 
Somehow, inexplicably, it had been real.

What that meant was that the painting, apparently during sleep, really was making him glimpse, really was giving him the ability to not only see, but physically interact with an invisible world, just as Janice had suggested.
 
But where Janice saw it as evil, in reality it was good.
 
For through it, Portia had found a way to give
herself
to him.
 
And if that didn’t make the painting the greatest gift he’d ever received, then he wasn’t sure what did.

He supposed he should now regret having begun an affair with Gabrielle.
 
Here Portia was offering him the proverbial olive branch, offering Rose as a vicarious substitute for
herself
, while he was sleeping with her best friend out of vengeance.
 
He supposed that he should accept Portia’s gift as a truce, as a way of calling it even, burying the hatchet as they say.
 
Yes, he supposed that was exactly what he should do.
 
But he wasn’t going to do that at all.
 
Portia still deserved to be punished for what she’d put him through.
 
He
wasn’t just going to forget it, couldn’t just forget it.
 
Never before had a woman treated him with such disdain: holding him to those ridiculous kissing sessions, leading him on and then pulling away, teasing him to the point that she’d made herself an inescapable obsession of his mind.
 
Never before had a woman provoked him to the point of forcing erotic dreams; never had one made him burn like some desperate fool.
 
She had crossed the wrong man.
 
The gift, as wonderful as it was, was too little too late.
 
She was still going to pay.

Lying there, Jack suddenly had the sweeping, almost dizzying realization that the time had come.
 
He needed to force Gabrielle to tell Portia about their affair, and finally get the revenge he had delayed for almost two months.
 
Yes, he needed to make that happen and needed to do it soon, because he couldn’t wait for the chance to sit back and watch the devastation ensue.

Of course, doing so would spell the end of his relationship with Gabrielle, and that was truly unfortunate, for he had enjoyed her like no other woman before.
 
There had been something so different about her, something so alluring that under different circumstances, he might actually consider—

It didn’t matter.
 
There was no use wasting time on such thoughts.
 
It was now time for a change.
 
Time to bury those strange feelings, and start treating Gabrielle like what she was, what she’d always been: an instrument of revenge.
 
A tool to be used, and then discarded.

He sat up
agonizingly,
every muscle in his body feeling like it was made of lead.
 
He dropped his feet to the floor, and then dragged himself over to the painting.
 
Gazing at Rose, he felt a familiar sensuality awaken in him.
 
He was taken back to the dream, to Portia’s acts within the mirror, and the feel of her body gliding over his own in the dark room.
 
And he knew the next time he fell asleep, the next time he saw Rose, she’d become Portia and make that dream come true.

The phone rang, jolting him slightly.
 
He turned, made his way to the end table, and picked it up.
 
“Yes,” he said, answering with a voice so hoarse that he barely recognized it.

“Jack?” Gabrielle asked.
 
“Jack is that you?”

Speak of the devil, Jack thought to himself.
 
“Yes, it’s me.”

“Where have you been?” she scolded.
 
“I’ve been trying to reach you all night.”

“Why were you trying to reach me?”

“You told me to call you last night, after I landed.”

“Landed?
 
Where are you?”

“I'm in Rio,” Gabrielle said, sounding perturbed.

“Rio?”

“Yes, Rio.
 
What’s wrong with you?”

Jack closed his eyes and massaged his temple with his hand, trying to force back the mental haze.
 
Only vaguely did he recall the airport and placing Gabrielle on his Gulfstream.
 
“Nothing.
 
Just a little tired I guess.”

“I worried about you all night.
 
I thought you might be sleepwalking again.
 
You weren’t, were you?”

Jack glanced over his shoulder at Rose.
 
“No,” he said, then thought to himself: Not exactly.

“Were you asleep?
 
Is that why I couldn’t get you?”

“I guess.”

“Well, what time did you go to bed?”

“I don’t know.”

“You never heard your phone ringing?”

“Listen, I’m fine, okay?
 
I don’t need you checking up on me like I’m some child.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.
 
I thought something might have gone wrong, that’s all.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m safe and sound.”

She paused.
 
“What’s wrong with you, Jack?”

Jack sighed heavily, but said nothing.

“Jack?”

“Yes?”

“I asked you a question?”

“Nothing is wrong with me, Gabrielle.”

“Something is wrong.
 
I can hear it in your tone.
 
What happened last night?”

“The same thing that happens every night.
 
I slept.
 
And now I’m awake.”

“You mean you just awoke?
 
You’re normally up for hours by now.”

“Then call an ambulance, Gabrielle!
 
I’m sure they’d admit me for oversleeping.”

“Jack, I’m just concerned that—”

“Don’t be.
 
Whatever is going on here, I can handle it.”

There was a moment of empty silence.
 
Finally Jack sighed, and said, “How did things go with Alderman?”

Gabrielle was flippant.
 
“He met me when I landed; rolled out the red carpet; whisked me off to my suite.
 
Lovely room.”

“What time is the first shoot?”

“In a few hours.”

“Then you’d better start getting ready.”

“I suppose.”

“Don’t take this so lightly, Gabrielle.
 
This shoot is pretty damned important as far as your career is concerned.
 
Alderman requested you specifically.
 
That kind of thing doesn’t happen every day.”

“Forgive me, but some things are more important to me than my career.”

“Well maybe that needs to change.”

Gabrielle remained silent.

“Listen,” Jack said.
 
“We need to talk.
 
There are some things I’ve been thinking about.”

“What?”

“I think it’s time.
 
I think she needs to know.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Portia.
 
I think she needs to know.”

“Know what?” Gabrielle asked, then answering her own question.
 
“You mean about our relationship?”

“Yes.”

“I knew something was wrong with you.”

“She needs to know, Gabrielle.”

“Why, Jack?
 
Why now?”

“Why not now?”

She sighed.
 
“Jack, where is this coming from?
 
Why are you bringing this up so
suddenly.
”

“I’ll tell you were its coming from.
 
I’m tired, Gabrielle.
 
Tired of skulking around in secrecy.
 
Tired of pretending.
 
I woke up this morning asking myself how long we were going to keep this up.
 
Sooner or later, it’s going to get out.
 
And sooner or later Portia is going to find out.
 
I think
it’s
better that she know ahead of time, and not down the road in the Enquirer.”

Gabrielle made no reply.

“She needs to know, Gabrielle.
 
You need to tell her.”

More silence.
 
Finally she said, “I can’t do that.”

“What do you mean you can’t do that?”

“I mean not right now.”

Jack paused,
then
said angrily.
 
“You’re not a stupid girl, Gabrielle.
 
You knew this day was coming.
 
You knew we couldn’t just go on like this forever.
 
This whole thing was doomed from the start.”

“I know that, Jack.”

“Then tell her.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple.
 
Just do the right thing… and tell her.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me about doing the right
thing!
”

He paused, mused.
 
“Okay then.
 
You want to fight me on this.
 
Then I’ll tell her myself.
 
But I promise you I’ll be far less gracious than you would have been.”

“You can’t do that, Jack.”

“Why not!”

“Because there might be consequences.
 
Unexpected consequences.”

“Like?”

Gabrielle hesitated, sighed again.
 
“When Portia was eighteen, something happened to her.
 
She was in a very serious relationship with a much older man named Collin.
 
He was unfaithful to her, and that marred her so badly that even to this day she’s never told me everything that happened.”

“Spare me Portia’s life story.
 
What does any of that have to do with you telling her about
us.
”