“I was going to wait six months and then text you. Or call you. I hadn’t decided which would be better. I thought the timing would be right. The movie would be out, either my career would be revived or permanently in the toilet. I’d be more than two years sober. I would have made some decisions.”

“What happened?” I whisper as if this is a secret I’m not supposed to be hearing.

“My management. Your agent,” Gabe says. He lets out a laugh. Short. Pained. “I don’t know whose idea it was, but when it was pitched to me, I couldn’t say no.”

“No?”

“No,” Gabe says. “I wanted to see you. Like that night in New York. That’s what it was. That’s why I invited you. Even though I knew it was a bad idea at the time, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see you so badly. Wanted to see how you were doing.”

He lets out a breath.

“And now…”

“I’m doing good,” I say.

It’s the dumbest thing to say, but Gabe grins.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he says.

Everything shifts.

“You’re two years sober?” I ask.

He nods.

“I’m divorced,” I say. “Happily divorced.”

“Are you?” he asks. “Happy?”

I lift a shoulder. “I could be happier, I guess. Couldn’t we all?”

He reaches a hand out, his fingers sliding through my hair, thumb brushing against my temple. I shiver. Not from the cold.

“I could make you happy,” he says.

I swallow. Hard.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Show me,” I say.

THE RUMOR MILL

JACINDA LOCKWOOD BREAKS HER “BONDS”

THE ONLY SURPRISING PART ABOUT Jacinda Lockwood announcing her divorce from shamed former Bond Gabe Parker is that it took this long for her to do it.

Reports about them being on the outs have circulated since he was fired from his third Bond movie, and when he checked into rehab (again), the countdown to the divorce announcement began in earnest.

The last time we saw the two together was at the funeral of Parker’s brother-in-law, who was tragically killed in a car accident. Grainy photos of the two of them in Montana circulated and gave Gabcinda fans a glimmer of hope that their marriage would survive his continuous fall from grace.

But it’s clear that whatever spark had them rushing off to Vegas all those years ago has finally gone out.

Sunday

(Gabe Parker: Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Three)

BROAD SHEETS

GABE PARKER:
Shaken, Not Stirred—Part Three

BY CHANI HOROWITZ

Remember what I said earlier about being a lightweight? Well, I wake up on Sunday morning with a pounding headache and the reminder that while they are beautiful and delicious, pink ombre drinks are not my friend.

The reason I’m awake, though, is almost enough to cure my hangover.

Because it’s a text from Gabe checking in on me.