Gabby Revealed (Finding Perfect)

GABBY REVEALED

Amy Gregory

Prologue

Her stomach twisted into knots as the clock at the front of the classroom ticked closer and closer to three. Before school was awful, passing periods—a nightmare. Lunch, well, Gabby could hide in the library during lunch. But damn, trying to escape this non-air-conditioned, brick and mortar building full of wanna-be Hollywood types, the cheerleaders, the jocks, no… the football players mostly, was worse than trying to maneuver through a live mine field for the social outcast.

The bell rang
its long obnoxious sound and Gabby made a beeline for the door with her head down, her English book and binder held tight to her chest, and prayed she’d make it out without seeing Ashleigh, Marley, or Elise. Not that she had any clue what those girls had against her. Her mother and father told her to get along, and her grandparents said they were jealous because Gabby was beautiful. She rolled her eyes. If she was beautiful then why did they constantly torment her?

“Watch where you’re going slut.”

A hard arm bumped her out of the way instead of moving, sending her notebook and all its loose papers sliding across the busy hallway, some of them trampled on purpose. Swallowing hard, Gabby bit her lip to keep the quivering from being visible. On her hands and knees she gathered everything that spilled, one with a dirty footprint on it. She was used to redoing homework for this exact reason.

“Look, Gabby’s on her hands and knees. She’s good at that.” Maggie giggled.

There was the voice she’d dreaded. The one person who had caused her wounds, then poured salt in them almost daily. Sinking her teeth deeper into her lip. She had to get out of this hell hole and fast. Gabby stood, her prized possessions, the stories lovingly written longhand in the back section of her binder held tightly to her heart, and practically ran from the hall, the open doors and sunshine at the end her goal.

Maggie’s voice did more than grate on her, it burned her stomach, the pain twisted in her heart. Gabby had done nothing but trust her. For years, they’d been as close as sisters, swapping weekends at each other’s homes. Gabby had adopted Maggie’s older sister as her own, at least in her mind. It was fun, better than being an only child. And Dianna was so quiet and sweet, not a mean bone in her body. She probably missed Dianna more than anything, now that Maggie had morphed into a demon spawn. The need to be one of
“them” more important than anything.

Two blocks later she pushed the
door of the bookstore open, the small gold bells were the signal of safety, completely different than the school bell that she’d heard ten minutes ago. Inhaling, the cinnamon apple candle washed over her as she leaned against the heavy glass door, its wood frame helping to block the misery outside.

“Another bad one, Gab?” Her lip started trembling at the sound of her grandmother’s voice before she had a chance to rein it in.
Clenching her eyes closed, the tears started rolling out despite her attempts to remain strong and unaffected. “Ah, baby, come here.”

Books and all
, her grandmother gathered her into her arms, and though she was a couple inches taller than grandmother these days, her head still fit on her shoulder perfectly. “I hate them.”

“It’s okay. You can. They deserve what’s coming to them.”

“But, Mom and Dad—”

“Y
our mother and father don’t get it. They were prom king and queen.”

“I get so sick of them telling me to ignore it, that it’s not that bad, high school is hard for everyone. I hate it there, Grandma.”

“I know honey. I know. And every generation has it different than the one to follow. I think it’s getting harder and harder for you kids, plus there are more kids at the school now, it’s grown. Add in computers and stuff, your mom and dad didn’t have to deal with that. This Internet stuff you talk about, I think it’s only going to get worse. But maybe Grandpa and I should get you your own computer to type your stories on. Maybe that net thing could help you with research? Make it easier? And then, you could leave it here, and you wouldn’t have to worry about those awful kids getting ahold of them.”

They always got it. She loved her parents, but they brushed her pain aside as trivial teenage drama.
But Grandma and Grandpa, somehow they saw it. They understood the missing piece of her that was gone in Maggie’s absence, the hole left open that their lifelong friendship had left when Maggie decided to use her as a stepping-stone to popularity. However, not even they understood what happened, Gabby couldn’t face the shame of telling anyone. One day Maggie quit showing up around and her parents let it be, they probably assumed that friendships changed.

No one knew
how ugly the truth was. She was too embarrassed to tell the family she had faith in, and didn’t trust her parents to take her side for once.

Chapter One

Gabby
forced the key that was a few decades older than she was into the tarnished lock and turned it. While lifting up on the doorknob, she leaned her shoulder against the heavy, old wood and with a grunt, forced the back door of The Looking Glass open.

Most people would have had the
door fixed, or even replaced. Gabby wouldn’t consider either prospect. To her, it was a quirk she adored about her beloved old building, and the bookstore she called home. Technically, home was up the back stairs. Her apartment was above the store, but she spent more of her waking hours surrounded by pirates, vampires, poets, and broken hearts looking for happy endings.

Weaving
her way around a stack of boxes the UPS man had delivered yesterday, but she hadn’t unpacked yet, she dropped her purse on the desk in her office. The space wasn’t one very many CEO’s would be proud to call their own, missing a penthouse view overlooking the city. Hell, it wasn’t even a corner office with windows, but the space tucked in the back storeroom was big enough for a small desk and bookcase. Plus there was enough wall space for her large bulletin board, a hanging wall calendar, and smiling while she checked
her day’s to
dos
, there was room for her unique organizational system, which looked more like a rainbow of Post-Its had exploded all over every inch of the entire space.

Glancing at the inside of her wrist, she checked the time
. Gabby had exactly seven minutes to spare. She shook her head and chuckled as she proceeded to remove her laptop from her oversized purse. Following her finger down the perfectly straight line of purple sticky notes, she made a mental tally of her day.

“Oh, are you fucking kidding me?”

Her words bounced off the walls. Thursday already? How could the week have slipped by so fast? How could she have forgotten? Gabby knew—dread. She wasn’t looking forward to this day. As a matter-of-fact, on the calendar on her laptop, she’d effectively noted it as “doomsday.” With a sick pit in her stomach, she picked up her most prized possession that held a hard drive worth its weight in gold, and her coffee. Hitting the light switch with her elbow, she bit her lip all the way to the antique wood and glass counter. Setting her items down, she hurried to unlock the front door to the store before John could knock.

If she had to claim a true love beyond
the words and walls that made up the world in which she stood, then it would be her dear, sweet John.

He had been friends with her grandparents, but more than that, he’d made The Looking Glass
—literally. He’d been the master carpenter, and design genius allowing her grandparents’ dream to become a reality. Since then, his wife had died, and both his kids were grown and gone. His closest child lived thirty minutes away, which hadn’t been a problem for years. However, that was before the stroke that made his daily life more difficult.

Gabby had her
“old men” as she called them, her regular customers that claimed the brown leather chairs at the front of the store. They had schedules she could set her watch by, the men were worse than beauty shop gossips, but she loved them all. It was still John who was her favorite. It was John who she started using her own kitchen for. After years of living off salad or cereal for lunch and dinner, she now cooked for two, then delivered half of each meal down the block to his house.

It was her grandparents and John
who she owed everything to. When high school turned into hell on earth, they were the ones, along with John’s late wife, who kept her grounded, kept her chin up when the lies and rumors haunted her. They were her escape.

Twisting the brass deadbolt,
she unlocked the door before John arrived, even though the store wasn’t officially open until nine. Her grandfather had “chewed the rug” as he called it, with these men for decades. Old habits died hard, good and bad. Opening early for these men was one habit Gabby had no problem with, and it warmed her heart to carry on the tradition. She moved to the wall. Hitting the switch, the store was bathed in florescent light.

The small bells jingled and Gabby spun
. “There you are.” She hurried to help hold the door so John could maneuver his walker through it. Something new they were both getting used to, although neither knew what to say that wouldn’t make the other’s heart hurt. She knew John was frustrated to lose some of his independence, but he never complained. And in all of life’s struggles, there were positives. After a few times of dropping off a plate of hot food, he had made her promise to eat with him the next night. Their shared meal was full of easy conversation and laughter—something rare for Gabby.

His advice struck a chord with her, and she found herself willing to listen to him more than anyone else
. That made John only the second person who Gabby had confided in with her deepest, darkest secret.

A wave of unease swept through her stomach
again. The first person to know was about to crash-land in her tiny part of the world. Checking her watch again, Gabby could only guess when he’d be making his appearance. Oh, Mr. Shane Compton had been very good at hand-feeding her just enough information to keep her frustrated and ready to choke the living hell out of the man.

“Ah…I forgot
,” John started.

Gabby moved his walker
to the side after she’d helped him to one of the chairs. Turning toward the counter, she grabbed the newspaper she’d brought down from her apartment for John. She didn’t ask or prompt him. He was struggling with his words more and more as the months passed by. Instead, she took a seat beside him and waited, knowing his question would come together in a moment.

“Your young…man
—”He paused. “—he is due…today. It…is today…ri-right?”

“He’s not my ‘young man’
. I already told you that, John.” Gabby quirked a brow, feigning annoyance. “And don’t you dare try any funny business while he’s in town, old man.”

“Me?
” He laid a wrinkled hand to his chest.

“You know…most men get all crotchety and grouchy when they get old
. You though, you got spunky and ornery. And now, well, I just don’t think I can trust you.”

The cell phone in her hand rang and
a black cloud suddenly darkened the whole town. Without looking at the screen Gabby knew. “Yeah?”

“Morning, darling
. How are you?”

“Aren’t you a little too chipper for this early in the morning?
” she growled as she sank down in the worn leather, hoping to fall through the wood floor to the center of the universe.

“Nonsense
. You confuse chipper for excitement. I do get to see my favorite girl in a little while.”

His insinuation grated on her nerves.
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the truth, but she had to pretend…for dignity’s sake. “That’s nice. Tell her ‘hi’. I’ve gotta—”

“Wait, Gabby
, don’t go yet. You’re not open, right? I mean it is only eight. I thought you wouldn’t have any customers until nine or after? Do you have a minute?”

John was doing a horrible job of acting like he was reading the paper
when in reality he was totally eavesdropping on her. Shaking her head, she couldn’t contain the snort.

“What’s so funny?”

Shit
. She had momentarily forgotten about Shane on the other end of the line. “Nothing. John just distracted me.”

“John?”

His question was immediate. There was also a lack of inflection in Shane’s normally confident voice that tripped her up. Gabby hadn’t had much experience with relationships, or the crap she overheard women bitching about when they were in her store. She wasn’t a virgin, but she sure as hell had tried as hard as she could to stay away from a real connection. The jealous husbands or boyfriends, the mind-numbing boredom they complained of after too many years together, or the need to look a certain way hoping they’d regain their attention, Gabby didn’t need that shit.

However, she wasn’t an idiot.

The corner of her mouth tipped as her own confidence slipped back into place.

“Yeah…
John
.”