4. Gemma
The doorman greets me as I enter the lobby of my parents’ building to get the rest of the stuff I left here. “Afternoon, Ms. Barron. Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“It is, Philip. Thank you.”
Despite having my own home, my parents’ penthouse still feels like a refuge to me.
When the elevator doors open onto the top floor, I’m enveloped in the scent of lilies and lemon. My mother’s signature fragrance. She’s waiting in the foyer, dressed in a pale yellow sundress that complements her blonde hair. At the sight of me, her face lights up.
“Gemma, darling!” She pulls me into an embrace, kissing my cheek. “It’s so wonderful to see you. How are you? And how is Mary doing?”
“We’re good. We had lunch together earlier.” I hesitate. “She has a date tonight, actually. With her online boyfriend.”
My mother’s eyes widen. “Online? Gemma, that’s dangerous. You have to be so careful these days.” Her brows knit with concern. “Promise me you’ll be safe if you decide to start dating again.”
I bite back a sigh, wishing I hadn’t mentioned Mary’s date. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m not planning on meeting any strangers from the internet.” Yet.
Her frown deepens. “I don’t like the idea of you being alone, sweetheart. It’s been nearly half a year since the divorce. Don’t you think it’s time to start putting yourself out there again?”
“We’ve been over this.” I try to gentle my tone, not wanting to argue again.
Since I told her about what happened with Oliver and the divorce, my mother has become obsessed with managing my love life. She’s determined to see me paired off again as soon as possible, preferably with a doctor, lawyer, or CEO, and I don’t want to concern her with the divorce not being through yet.
So, I’ll play along with her matchmaking efforts. “I’m focusing on my work right now. I told you I want to start my own fashion label.”
She studies me for a moment, then nods. “All right, I understand. But promise you won’t shut me out, darling. I want you to be happy.”
“I know you do. And I will be, in my time.”
A knock sounds at the door, saving me from further discussion. I jump up to see who enters, relieved to see Bash’s familiar face.
“Hey, sis.” He envelopes me in a hug. “Mom said you needed help to move some boxes?”
“Yes, thank you for offering.” I step back to let him in.
Bash strides into the foyer, pausing when he spots our mother in the sitting room.
“Oh, hello, Mrs. Barron. Lovely to see you again.
“Likewise, son. How was your day?”
“I met a very charming person. Mrs. Milton.”
“Mrs. Milton! So, a date.” My mother’s eyes gleam. She’s been trying to marry him off for years now, with no success. “How wonderful. Wait... Isn’t...”
“Ah, slip of the tongue,” Bash says. “I meant Mr. Milton. We just had a meeting. My work keeps me far too busy for dating.”
My Mother is momentarily flabbergasted but recovers quickly. At least one of her children has to produce grandchildren for her.
She pats my brother’s arm. “When you’re ready, darling, I have enough lovely girls I can introduce you to.”
“Of course, Mother.” Bash’s lips twitch, and I have to bite back a laugh.
“Isn’t Mr. Milton single? He’s very successful, right? Seems like quite the eligible bachelor, doesn’t he?”
Bash grins. “I suppose he is. Though I doubt he wants to settle down anytime soon.”
“Well, I was talking to Edith the other day, and her son Michael returned from Europe. He was with you in high school, Sebastian. He’s handsome and will have his own practice as a doctor one day,” my Mother says. “I could set up a blind date for you, Gem.”
“Shall we get started?” Bash jerks his head toward the stairs.
I nod, eager to escape before my mother can launch into a lecture about my dim prospects of dying alone.
Mercifully but defeated, for now, she takes the hint. “Well, have fun at packing.”
“We will. Love you, Mom.” I hug her and follow Bash upstairs to my old bedroom. The sooner we finish here, the better.
Upon entering my old bedroom, I’m hit by a wave of nostalgia. Bash and I building forts with blankets and pillows as children. The heartbreak of my first crush rejecting me in middle school.
Now, my marriage has ended, and I’m back here. The life I imagined with Oliver and my childhood in this house is gone.
“Where should we start?” Bash wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“The closet. Let’s get those clothes packed up.”
We set to work, falling into an easy rhythm. He lifts the heavy boxes while I sort through the mess in my closet, keeping some items and donating the rest.
“Do you remember this top?” I hold up a floral blouse, a burst of color in my hands. “You hated it. Said the pattern was too busy.”
“And you wore it just to annoy me.” His lips twitch at the memory. “You always did have terrible taste in clothes.”
“I do not!” I toss a pillow at him, but he catches it with ease, laughing. “My designs will be featured in all the top fashion magazines one day. You’ll see.”
“I look forward to it. Truly, Gem. If anyone can make it in this cutthroat industry, it’s you.”
“Thanks.” It’s nice to hear others believing in me after Oliver did the exact opposite. “That means a lot.”
“It’s the truth.”
I fold another pair of jeans and place them in the cardboard box.
Bash grunts as he lifts another heavy box. “I can’t believe how much stuff you still have here.”
“Yes. Thanks again for helping me pack up.”
“Of course. But I still think you shouldn’t wait three months for the big move. Why not now?”
“Lil needs to wrap some things up. So I said I’ll wait, and we move together.” At the mention of Lil, his face turns cold, and he busies himself with the boxes.
I was thrilled when he asked for my approval to date her during our college years. Something must’ve gone horribly wrong between them, but I’m in the dark as to why they despise each other, given that they both remain silent on the matter.
If I could play Cupid, they would be at the top of my list, with Mary and her online guy.
“Lil’s moving into the same apartment as me.”
“I told you to stop mentioning her to me,” he snaps.
“What is your problem with her?”
“Drop it.” His eyes flash with anger as he glares at me. Bash has always been easygoing, and I’ve rarely seen him lose his temper like this.
My hands curl into fists at my sides. “Not until you finally tell me why you hate her so much. She’s moving to New York with me, and I won’t have you treating her badly.”
“I said drop it!” He slams another box closed, the cardboard crunching under his hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” Bash sighs and runs a hand through his golden blonde hair. His green eyes, the same color as mine, soften as he observes me. “Lil and I have… history. History that I’d rather forget. Can you please leave it at that?”
I want to ask more, to push him into telling me everything, but his defeated expression stops me. “Okay. I won’t bring it up again. I’m sorry.”
“Now, do you need help with anything else?”
“A few more boxes. Then we can head downstairs.”
“Perfect.”
We return to packing in comfortable silence, the faint sounds of my mother moving around downstairs, a familiar backdrop.
An hour later, we’ve made decent progress. Boxes over boxes and the room bare.
After sealing up the last box, I wipe my brow. “All done. Last trip downstairs.”
Bash lifts two heavy boxes. “Lead the way.”
We maneuver down the stairs. At the bottom, I pause. “About Lil...”
“Again?”
“Yes, we’re going to be living together. So…”
Bash sets the boxes down, leans against the wall, arms crossed, and meets my gaze. “What do you want?”
He’s willing to talk. “I don’t want there to be tension or awkwardness if you drop by unexpectedly. I care about both of you and want us to get along. I don’t want this issue between you two to cause problems.”
“It won’t cause any problems because I no longer care.” He picks up the boxes and strides past me.
Great.
After loading the last boxes into his car, we get in.
“Remind me never to help you move again. I’m too old for this manual labor.”
I tap his arm. “Come on, you’re only five years older than me! Don’t act like this was tough for you. I know how much time you spend in the gym.”
“Guilty as charged.” He starts the engine.
“How’s work and the new project you mentioned?” I ask.
Since taking over as CEO from our father, he has his hands full restructuring some of the company’s assets. Not that he ever admits to being overwhelmed.
“Smoothly.” He shrugs and pulls out onto the road, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “Lots of paperwork and meetings. Never boring.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Long week at the office. You know how it is.” He shrugs again, but the line between his brows deepens.
“You seem... exhausted.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“Too late for that. You’re my brother. It’s my job to worry.”
A reluctant smile tugs at his lips. “And you’re too stubborn to listen, as always.”
The rest of the drive passes quickly.
We pull into the garage of my new apartment building, a sleek high-rise of glass and steel. Bash grabs a box from the trunk and falls into step behind me. Inside, we find Mary in the kitchen, a spread of Chinese takeout, champagne, and cupcakes on the counter in front of her.
“You’re back! And with reinforcements.” Mary hops off the stool.
“Well, someone has to do the heavy lifting.” Bash puts the boxes down. “And clearly, it won’t be either of you.”
Mary swats his arm, the picture of mock outrage, before turning back to the counter. “Help yourself to the food. I didn’t know what you’d want, so I got one of everything.”
“Bless you. You’re a saint.” I give her a quick squeeze.
We sit down at the counter and dig in.
Bash nudges me, pointing at the champagne and food. “So, what have you two been cooking up? Anything special?”
“None of your concern,” Mary says.
He takes the last bite of the sweet and sour chicken. “Guess that’s my cue. Thanks for the food.”
“Thank you for helping with the boxes. I appreciate it,” I say.
“What are big brothers for?” He pulls me into a quick side hug. “Besides, it gave me an excuse to escape some paperwork. I’ll take any opportunity I can get. See you.”
Once Bash leaves, Mary fixes me with an expectant look.
“So, are you still planning to accompany me to the party tonight?” Her tone is light, but an undercurrent of hopefulness is laced through her words.
I hesitate, gnawing on my lower lip. I long to stay in the comfort of my pajamas. But how bad could one party be?
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Mary whoops, throwing her arms around me. “You won’t regret it, I promise! This is what you need to get out of your misery.”
“If you say so.” I force a cheerful facade. At least the champagne is helping to take the edge off, the crisp bubbles fizzing. It’s been so long since I’ve been out to a club.
“Perfect! Now, the most important question of all. What are we going to wear?”
Delving into her and my wardrobe, Mary sorts through the clothes, tossing one piece after another until she finds the perfect outfit.
Is that how people dress to go clubbing these days?