18. Gemma
The room tilts. Acid burning up my throat. Gotta keep it together.
Of course, she’d be here. Elijah’s ‘fiancé’.
“Hello, Gemma.” Esther stands up. “Fancy seeing you here.” Sarcasm drips from each word, her manicured fingers tipping against the receptionist’s desk.
“Esther.”
Elijah isn’t mine and never will be as long as he’s engaged to her.
“Esther.” His voice comes from behind me.
I didn’t even hear the door.
He straightens, squaring his shoulders. “I wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Esther scrutinizes me.
“I had a meeting with Elijah,” I say.
“How convenient. I’m sure my fiancé was very hands-on in that meeting.” Esther’s perfectly lined eyes narrow into slits.
I bite the inside of my cheek, my body still tingling from his touch.
Elijah steps forward, angling himself between Esther and me. “It’s none of your concern.”
“None of my concern?” Esther’s voice pitches higher. “I’m going to be your wife. Everything you do is my concern.”
Elijah’s jaw clenches. “Esther.”
“Don’t ‘Esther’ me.” She steps closer until only inches separate her and Elijah. She grabs his tie, giving it a sharp tug. “I see the way you look at her. You fucked her, right?”
Elijah’s eyes darken, a muscle in his cheek twitching. For a moment, no one moves, and the receptionist ignores us.
I should leave. But my feet remain rooted in place.
“Let go of me,” Elijah says. Too calm.
“Make me.”
In one quick motion, Elijah grips Esther’s wrist and shoves her hand off his tie. She stumbles back with a gasp.
“Don’t test me,” he says. “You know the deal. I let you go this once. But there will be no next time. Understood?”
Esther’s cheeks flush as she rubs her wrist. For the first time since I’ve known her, she seems at a loss for words.
Elijah turns to me, features softening. “You okay?”
“Yes.” I’m not, but what else can I say? He’s engaged to her, even if it’s not real. I’m nothing more than a distraction from the life he’s supposed to lead.
He places a hand on my lower back. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
“It’s fine.” I push his hand away.
“Gem—”
“Don’t.”
“I’ll be in touch about the next steps,” he says.
Back in business mode. I nod. Back to reality.
“In the meantime, it would be good if you could send our design department some of your drafts.”
My throat tightens. “Will do, Mr. Milton.”
The formal address feels strange yet satisfying. It’s me drawing a line. I meet his gaze, that flicker of defiance burning brighter.
A vein on Elijah’s neck bulges.
Let him think what he will.
“Well, that’s settled then. Shall we?” Esther points toward the door, but Elijah ignores her, his eyes still on me.
“You’ll get the contract via e-mail.”
I nod mutely. I’m nothing more than a casual fling, right? A mere plaything to sate his lust and desire. Maybe it’s even a trick, introducing me to his father so I would fall for him. Endure this.
He leans down, bringing his lips close to my ear. My pulse skyrockets, but I force myself to remain still.
“Don’t let her get to you,” he murmurs. “It’s business.”
Business. The words sting, even though I know an engagement with Esther means nothing to him emotionally. I give another slight nod, not trusting my voice.
Elijah pulls back, his gray eyes searching my face. I school my features into neutrality, unwilling to let him see how deeply his casual disregard cuts me.
With a final glance between Esther and me, Elijah turns on his heel and heads for his office. “Esther. My office. Now.”
Without glancing back, he disappears behind the door.
Esther scrambles after him, stopping at my side.
“Ah, Gemma,” she says sweetly, with cold, calculating eyes. “You look troubled. Is everything alright?”
“Everything’s fine, Esther.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Esther’s expression hardens. “Let me be clear. You’re nothing more than a little toy he’ll discard.” Her gaze flicks dismissively over my simple dress. “Elijah is mine. We’re engaged in case your simple mind has forgotten.”
Part of me wants to lash out, but engaging with her pettiness is pointless. I am not some fragile doll to be mocked. Not anymore.
Drawing myself up, I meet her gaze. “I think you’re severely underestimating me.”
“Am I? Look at you, a naive little girl playing dress-up with delusions of grandeur.” She leans in. “Let me enlighten you about the real world, dear. Men like Elijah don’t settle for faded wallflowers like you.”
She’s threatened by me.
“You can insult me all you want, but it won’t change the truth. Elijah wants me, not some shallow, materialistic arm candy.” I lean in, my voice low. “And deep down, you know it.”
“In the end, I’m the one with the ring.” She holds it up.
She’s right. Why am I getting like this over a man who continues to hold me at arm’s length while parading around his picture-perfect fiancé in public? I’m the other woman, only wanted behind closed doors.
“Goodbye, Gemma.” Esther sweeps past me into Elijah’s office.
What is happening to me? I don’t want to be like this. Will he do the same with her? Why did I let myself be charmed by him? And why does it hurt so much?
As I make my way out, I repeat Amanda’s advice in my head: eyes on the prize.
How could I be so stupid? I pivot on my heels.
Fuck you, Elijah Milton.
I flick my hand at the building, directing my middle finger towards Elijah in my mind. The surrounding people regard me with furrowed brows. Let them.
When my heavy breathing slows down, my hand falls to my side.
I will never let him near me again unless it’s for business or if he ends things with Esther. No. No, if’s.
I pluck out my phone, pulling up the chat with my mother.
Gemma: Mom, set up another blind date for me.
I deserve more than that. Let the blind dates come. They’re at least not engaged or married.
Mom: What changed your mind? You usually complain about these things.
Gemma: Things changed.
Mom: Okay. I already have someone in mind.
I dare you to crash one of my dates again, Elijah.
With that, I head home. Back in my room, I close my eyes and take a few calming breaths before diving into my comfort world. Fashion.
Days blur together with me eating, sleeping, and sketching. My phone buzzes with ‘Mr. Answer Me’ lighting up the screen more times than I can count. And with each ring, I hate him more. Sketch more.
Elijah even came by the apartment, but I told Mary and Lil I didn’t want to see him. The only contact I have is with the fashion department.
Fabric swatches, crumpled papers, and sketches are scattered across my floor, desk, and bed. My head is propped on my pillow while I swish through the sketches on my tablet, and my eyes dart from one design to the next.
They’re blunt. What if they’re not good enough? What if I’m not cut out for this? What if it’s a stupid dream to have?
I release an anguished groan. Seconds later, Mary and Lil are standing at the door of my room. Their eyes widen at the mess surrounding me, and they wrap me in their arms without a word.
“It’s going to be okay.” Lil rubs my back in slow circles.
“Gem? What’s going on? We let you have your space. But we can’t stand by anymore,” Mary says.
I hide my face in the nook of Lil’s neck. “I hate… I hate it all.”
“Don’t.” Mary takes the tablet from my shaky hands. “Why don’t we go through each design one by one, focusing on the positives rather than the negatives?”
I nod. Deep breath.
“Alright.” I grab the tablet from Mary and scroll through my sketches, pouring every ounce of self-loathing into my voice. “This one’s shit. This one is a grandma’s nightgown. Oh, and this one? Fucking tragic.”
Lil shoots me a disapproving look. “That’s enough with the negativity.”
“Why? You think I’m wrong?” I ask. “These designs are garbage.”
Mary snatches the tablet away. “We’re not doing this the easy way, are we? What’s really eating at you?”
The words come tumbling out in a heated rush. “I can’t stop thinking about him, okay? He played me like a fucking fiddle.” I rake my hands through my hair in frustration. “I actually thought he gave a shit about me and my dreams. But I’m a game to him, another notch on his bedpost.”
Lil places a steadying hand on my knee. “Elijah’s an asshole, but that doesn’t negate your talent.”
“She’s right,” Mary says. “Don’t let that dickhead steal that from you. You’re born to design. It’s your passion, your calling.”
A reluctant smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.
“Now, are you ready to look at these sketches with fresh eyes?” Lil winks.
I nod. “Let’s do it.”
“Okay, let’s start with this one.” Mary points at the navy blue lace bralette with cute bow details.
“That one’s not bad, I guess.”
“Not bad?” Mary scoffs. “Are you kidding me? It’s gorgeous! I would want that.”
“I can make it for you.”
“And this one.” She opens the sketch of a rose bralette and high waist panty with a Brazilian cut. “This is so hot. Cute and sexy at the same time. Don’t sell yourself short.”
Lil settles on my other side, peering over at the sketch. “She’s right. I call dips on that one.”
A tiny giggle escapes my lips. “Well, when you put it like that...”
“We’re your biggest fans.” Mary throws an arm around my shoulders. “But we’re also brutally honest. If your work sucked, we’d tell you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“We want you to see how talented you are,” Lil says.
“Okay, okay. Let’s keep going through them.”
The three of us huddle together, and they point out the strengths and potential of each piece. We revamp old designs, arrange the pieces, and discuss new ideas. By the end of the day, we stand in my room, looking at the different sketches that now adorn my wall.
This is it.
Something I could present to Elij—the design department. Elijah doesn’t need to see, right?
Should I send him a picture? Would he even care?
My eyes drift to my phone.
“Gem, we’re waiting.”
I grab my phone and purse and hurry to Mary and Lil, who wait at the door for me to celebrate our hard work.
At the bar, we get a table in the back.
“I’m done!” Lil flops down on the opposite side of me while Mary sits right next to her.
I sink into the seat next to Mary, gratefulness swelling inside me. “Thanks for dragging me out of my misery today.”
“You’ve been working too hard. But be honest, what happened with Elijah?” Mary asks.
A waitress appears, and we place our drink orders.
“It’s... complicated.”
Mary leans in. “Complicated how? Spill, girl.”
I sigh. “Well, I had a meeting with him. We talked about how he wanted to help me, and after that, we…”
Lil’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh my god, did you sleep with him in his office?”
“Shh! Keep your voice down!” I glance around, then continue in a hushed tone. “Yes, we hooked up, and it was amazing, as always. I felt good until…”
“Until?” Mary asks.
“Until Esther. His fiancé.”
Our drinks arrive, and I take a sip, savoring the burn of the alcohol in my throat. “As I left his office, Esther was sitting right there. Called me Elijah’s stupid side-piece.”
“No surprise there.” Mary takes a sip of her drink.
“The problem is, she’s right. He belongs to her, and I do feel like his plaything… that he can use whenever he likes.”
Mary’s face falls. “We had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t. I was too ashamed to tell you.” I focus on my hands. “I mean, what kind of idiot gets involved with a taken man?”
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.” Lil rests her hand on mine. “Guys like Elijah are not worth it.”
“So it’s not just sex for you. Have you talked to him about how you feel?”
“No.” Scoffing, I signal for another round. “But there’s no point anymore. It stops now. I’m done being his dirty little secret.”
“That’s my girl!” Mary cheers. “You deserve so much better.”
As the new drinks arrive, I raise my glass. “To moving on and putting this Elijah mess behind me for good.”
“Cheers!” We clink our glasses together.
I throw back the vodka, the burn centering me. No more crying over Elijah Milton. It’s time I take my power back.
After a few hours, we still sit in the bar, dancing and drinking.
“Ugh, Elijah is such an ass. Here’s to the assholes who break our hearts.” I raise my shot glass. Lil and Mary clink theirs with mine.
“Why does he have to be engaged to her?” I down another shot.
“An absolute jerk.” Lil downs hers as well and holds up her hand to signal for the waitress.
I pull her hand down again. “It’s time to confront him.” Pushing away from the table on unsteady feet, I walk through the crowd.
“Are you sure you want to do this now?” Lil scrambles after me, followed by Mary.
“Absolutely.” I stretch my arms over my head as we’re outside. Fresh, clear air.
“Think about this. Maybe it would be better to have this conversation when you’re sober.” Lil puts on her jacket.
“And give him a chance to weasel his way out of it? I don’t think so.”
“I’m all for it.” Mary hauls a cab, slightly wobbling on her feet.