Page 22 of Reaching Gavin

“Is that how you met your girlfriend? At work?” Now I had really done it. I had promised myself I would stay far, far away from this topic. Instead, I practically had him filling out a dating questionnaire.

“My girlfriend?” His confusion was obvious, which had the simultaneous effect of making me excited and sick to my stomach. I couldn’t pretend that I hadn’t been watching him now. Or that I wasn’t interested in him.

“The girl who came to the office the other day. Pretty. Dark hair. Looks like a model.” I knew her name. I’d asked about her. I wasn’t about to admit that.

“Imogen?”

“Is that her name? You two looked cozy.” There. I had put it on the table. It was stupid to keep beating around the bush. Especially since part of me wanted him to be beating around my bush.

Gavin leaned forward, placed his glass of wine on the coffee table, and then threw his head back and laughed. I wasn’t certain what to make of that.

“I’m sorry. Are you gay?” It was the thing that made the most sense. If he wasn’t dating the supermodel-gorgeous woman who’d been in his office, kissing him on his cheek, then maybe I had gotten the wrong impression altogether. He did dress well.

My question only made him laugh louder.

“No, I’m not gay.” It took him a second to stop howling before he added, “Imogen is my sister.”

His sister.

Sister.

Sister! Sister! Sister!

I did my best to look like this was merely interesting while inside I was doing a hula dance. There had been another explanation. I just hadn’t seen it. Maybe I’d gotten too used to expecting less of men.

“Wait, if she’s your sister then…?”

Imogen Sound was the heiress to Sound Coffee. I didn’t know that much about the chain except that I could close my eyes, point a finger, and there would be one waiting to make me a latte—anywhere in the world. The whole brand had been built from the ground up by Richard Sound, arguably one of the most famous Seattleite’s living. He was universally beloved for his focus on his employees and his passion for his product. If Imogen was his daughter, and Gavin was her brother. “Your dad is…”

“Richard Sound,” he confirmed with a sigh.

“That’s incredible. I’ve read a bunch of his books.”

Gavin’s mouth tightened into a thin smile. “He’s inspiring.”

“You don’t get along,” I guessed.

“No, we do actually. We have a fantastic relationship.”

It wasn’t the answer I was expecting. I cocked my head as if a new angle might help me make sense of the conflicting information. There was definitely something that didn’t quite add up. A puzzle piece that didn’t fit. “But your last name.”

“I use my mother’s maiden name,” he explained, slumping against the back of the couch.

“Why?” I blurted out. I could only imagine the doors that the Sound name could open. Big ones. Revolving ones. Locked ones. It would take less time to imagine the doors it couldn’t.

“Let me guess. You’re thinking that the Sound name would secure any business deal. It would mean guaranteed venture capital.” He rubbed his index finger on his temple. I’d hit a sore spot. “But my dad built Sound Coffee with a vision and hard work. It’s his.”

“And you want to leave your own mark behind,” I finished for him.

He cracked open an eyelid and studied me. “Exactly.”

“I can’t be the first person to figure out why you made that choice.”

“You’re the first person who didn’t act like I was stupid because of it,” he admitted.

“What’s stupid about that? I can see the pros and the cons. Yeah, it would be easier, but as someone who hopes to achieve something in her life, I get why you want to do it yourself.”

He stared at me like he was seeing me for the first time. His gaze burned through me, settled in my chest, and ignited a simmering ache.