CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

DREW

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Zander sits on my office sofa, his ankle propped on his knee, sipping whiskey from one of my cut crystal glasses, smirking. “Can I be there when you ask her?”

“I’m not going to ask her. Well, I suppose I will. More...lean us in that direction. I’m not going to announce it with a big banner.”

I almost roll my eyes.

“As I said, please let me be there,” Zander laughs.

I shoot him a dark look.

Why are we friends again?

I’m not trying to be funny; I’m seeking a solution. It’s obvious Gemma is a hot commodity and will soon want to get married again.

I’m allergic to weddings, especially one with my name on it.

God, give me an epi-pen.

She won’t have trouble finding a suitable partner, which is a problem. But not if she’s distracted.

By my dick.

So, my plan is simple. We remain seeing one another as lovers. We simply carry on the current status quo.

Although better, as we are not working together. I will encourage her, strongly, to take my buyout offer, and then we can enjoy this very pleasurable thing we have going on.

For as long as we both choose.

Until those other suitors fuck right off.

“I know I don’t deserve her, but I’m not letting her loose in Manhattan for some jerk to put a ring on it.”

“Cute of you to assume Gemma is yours to decide that.”

“You know what I mean. Can you please take this seriously?” I shoot back the rest of my liquor.

“What makes you think I’m not?” He swirls the ice cubes around in the bottom of his glass.

I lift a brow.

“Fine.” Zander taps his foot in the air. “I tell you what, let’s make a wager.”

“Continue.”

“I’m having a dinner party tomorrow night. Bring Gemma along. If she shows no interest in any of the other men and leaves with you after you tell her you want to be lovers, then I’ll give you a clean million.”

I snort. “Please. Easiest million I’ll ever earn.”

“Make it two.”

“Make it five.”

“Deal.” He tosses back the rest of his drink and stands.

“Where are you going?”

“To invite people to my dinner party.” He chuckles. “The theme is sexy cocktail.”

“That’s not a theme.”

“See you at seven. Bring your A-game, my friend.” Zander winks as he steps out of my office and starts whistling.

He never whistles.

Whatever. I’m looking forward to becoming five million dollars richer tomorrow night.

I pick up the phone and dial Gemma’s phone number. She’s been suspiciously absent since our delicious lunch earlier in the week.

“Gemma Ford.” Her feminine voice makes my chest all tingly.

“Gemma,” I rumble and wish she was beside me so I could kiss her mouth. It has been a busy week, and I hate that I’ve barely seen her.

Not tasted her.

“Hello, Drew, what’s the matter?”

“Why would there be anything wrong?” I lower my brows, staring into my empty glass.

“It’s six in the evening on a Friday. I thought you’d be out on a non-date with some Manhattan model or actress.”

She sounds upset. I can hear it in her voice, and I don’t like it. Not her sass, but that she’s clearly not okay.

“What’s wrong?”

Gemma sighs. “Nothing. How can I help you, Drew? I don’t have very long.”

“This isn’t a business call.”

I can’t believe I have to clarify that, and I hate that she has an impatient business tone with me. What the hell have I missed since our lunch? When she was falling apart and coming on my hand.

“Well, now is not a good time.”

“Is Zoe okay?” I ask because Gemma is rarely this sharp with me.

Silence.

“Gemma?” I straighten.

“Yes. I’m just surprised you asked about her.” Her voice softens. “Zoe is fine. I’ve just had a tough couple of days. Highly recommend not having your spouse die on you. Do not recommend. Zero stars.”

My chest tightens.

Has she learned about Sally Wallstone?

“Noted,” I say, but the moment the word is out of my mouth, I know I can’t leave her on her own. I can’t just carry on with my life knowing she’s hurting. “Can I pop over?”

“Tonight is not a good time. My sister—”

“I’m leaving.” I hear a female voice in the background. “I’m meeting the girls for a drink.”

Her voice fades, and I miss the rest.

“I’m coming over. Let me in.”

I hang up and grab my jacket and phone, and I’m out the door in less than sixty seconds.

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TWENTY MINUTES LATER, I step inside Gemma’s penthouse, and it takes me a second to adjust. She’s standing before me wearing white sweatpants, an olive-colored T-shirt, and her dark hair pinned up. She doesn’t have a lick of make-up on.

She’s fucking gorgeous.

She’s also much shorter without her heels on, and I’m reminded of just how tiny she is.

Tiny and vulnerable.

Fighting the urge to pull her into my arms and kiss her, I notice one last thing: her usual fighting spirit is gone along with her smile.

I glance around.

“Zoe’s in bed.”

Without hesitation, I close the gap and wrap my fingers around the back of her slim neck as our bodies connect, then lower my mouth to hers.

Our kiss is slow, familiar, and has layers of confusing emotions attached. I’m out of my depth here and don’t know what to do or say.

I’d rather keep kissing.

But I came here to see if Gemma is okay, instead of heading to the Obsidian Club to get my cock sucked by someone else.

It’s poignant...for the want of another word.

I want her to be my lover. I want to keep her in my life and see if I can soften the blow if she has found out about Sally.

How, I don’t know.

Perhaps she’s found something in Anthony’s things.

“Tell me what happened,” I rasp when I release her mouth.

“I’d rather not.” Gemma touches her fingers to her lips as if me kissing her is not entirely welcome.

It pisses me off.

I watch her walk across the room and then follow. There are toys scattered around, and I get the sense that Gemma’s normally tidier than this despite having a toddler.

I’ve had a tough couple of days.

“Would you like a drink?” she asks, walking to a side cabinet.

“Water will be fine.”

She heads into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water. I take it and sit on the sofa, tossing a plush toy onto the armchair. Gemma flops down beside me, tucking her legs underneath her.

My body begins to calm, as if having her near makes my world feel better.

It’s a foreign sensation.

I sip my water, wondering how to approach this. Asking if she discovered her dead husband was cheating isn’t exactly an easy thing to do.

If she hasn’t, I don’t want to be the one who breaks the news.

“I think my husband was lying to me.”

I almost spit my water across the room but catch myself and wipe my hand down my tie.

“What?”

Gemma shrugs. “I shouldn’t be telling you.”

“You can tell me. I promise it won’t leave this room.”

She glances away, deep in thought. “We should have more money in the account. God, you don’t need to hear this. The man who can buy a diamond necklace as a sex toy.”

I choke this time, coughing. “It...okay, fine, yes we did use it as that.”

A small smile appears as she meets my eyes.

“In my defense, it didn’t come with batteries, and I can sell it one day and profit.” I run a finger over cheekbones. “And I don’t regret a dollar of it.”

And I want to see you wearing it again.

I want to tell you it’s yours, but I know your brain will explode.

Mine may do the same thing because I’ve never bought someone a one-million-dollar gift. I’ve never bought diamonds for a woman.

I dip my eyes and see her wedding rings are gone.

Fuck.

That makes me very happy.

Which it shouldn’t.

“How bad is it?” I ask, lifting my eyes to hers. “The missing money?”

“I never said it was missing.” She blinks.

“If there should be more that speaks to it being missing. Am I wrong?”

Gemma wriggles, clearly uncomfortable. “No. You aren’t wrong. I might have to take you up on your offer.”

“Good.”

This is really fucking good.

“But you still haven’t told me about the changes you plan to make. I need to understand what my shares will look like...” Gemma trails off as I curse inwardly.

They aren’t going to look like much.

When she finally faces me, her eyes are thick with emotion. “I need to sell the penthouse. Zoe’s home.”

A tear slides down her cheek.

Fuck.

I try to stay as still as I can, reminding myself that Anthony is responsible for this. It’s not my mess to fix.

Suddenly, she lets out a strange sob-laugh. “Belinda thinks Anthony was involved with the mob.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” I blink, confused.

“He wasn’t.” She waves her hand. “But I’m missing a big chunk of money, and now I have to sell our home.”

It’s not missing.

I know exactly where it went.

“I’m sorry.” I brush my hand over her cheek and tuck some dark strands behind her ear.

She nods.

We sit quietly for a while, me trying not to pull her onto my lap and take away her pain. Trying not to confess everything and make her hate the man who fathered her child.

When she should.

But I know it will only hurt her.

“Why are you here? Tell me the truth.”

I came because there’s nowhere else I can be.

“Because you needed me,” I reply, hating the vulnerability it creates inside me.

Gemma wipes away a tear, reaches for my hand and squeezes. “You are a better man than you think, Drew Carrington.”

“I’m not, but I like knowing you think that.” I lift her hand and kiss her knuckles.

She sniffs, smiling at me again as if expecting me to turn into Prince Charming. I won’t. I never will. But I can carry her through this transition and protect her from all the toads out in the world until she’s strong enough.

Or maybe until I’m strong enough to let her go.

This time I do tug her onto my lap. She throws her arms around my neck and nestles in.

“Zander is having a dinner party tomorrow night. Will you be my date?”

Her lips slowly stretch into a smile. “A date?”

“A date. A real date.”

“Are you unwell?”

“Possibly, but let’s go with no. Will you come?”

“My life is a mess, Drew. I’m not—”

“It’s one dinner. He sprung it on me,” I explain. “The gang has all met you, and I’ve been told I must bring a date. Compulsory or some such thing,” I lie. “I don’t want to invite anyone else, not after we’ve...”

I search for the appropriate word, but Gemma shocks me by filling the gap. “Fucked?”

“Yes,” I laugh as she threads her fingers through mine.

Something is different about her.

“I assume it’s a dinner party, not an orgy.” She smirks, teasing me, and I want to flip her over and practice.

“Well, you never know with Zander, but let’s assume it’s not.” I grin. “He did say the theme is sexy cocktail.”

“That’s not a thing.” Gemma bunches her nose, and giggles. It feels like I’m living inside a cartoon and the air around us burst into sprinkles of happiness.

Or maybe that was my heart.

There’s nothing left to say, so I kiss her again.

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