I look average. Her hair was pulled into its usual ponytail, the easiest way to wear it while working at the floral shop. She brushed the top of her black pants—another item from work. She and all of her employees—which amounted to two—wore the same thing: black pants and pale green shirts. Gemma had read a study that if the employees wore matching clothing, they looked more professional.
Perhaps it was true. Gemma’s floral shop had done well, allowing her to hire a full timer and a part timer. Her parents had been disappointed that she hadn’t gone into the corporate world, but they seemed more supportive now that they saw her success. In fact, about once a week, her dad stopped in to buy flowers for her mom.
It was kind of sweet.
Totally sweet, she corrected herself. Her parents had one of those magical marriages, where they were still in love and weren’t afraid to show it. Gemma sighed and readjusted her ponytail. It had been at least two years since her parents had bothered her about the M word. And that was because of Randy. Yet now she didn’t know what to make of him. On the one hand, she didn’t want to admit to herself that the past few months had felt off. She couldn’t quite explain it. They were great together. Besides, she was thirty now, and it was time to take things more seriously. Maybe that was it—she didn’t see Randy as being equally serious.
She knew one thing: her parents definitely approved of him—a corporate tax lawyer, blond, good looking, from a great family—what’s not to love?
Me. The word popped into her head, unwelcome. Randy had said he loved her. Maybe not as often as she wanted, but sometimes—like now—when she was feeling sorry for herself, she doubted.
Which is completely normal. All couples go through doubts.
Gemma walked in her room and pulled out the small suitcase from under her bed. I just need to be more patient with Randy. Maybe it’s just an off month for him. If everyone canceled spring vacation on her, she’d go alone, and she’d love it. She’d already arranged for others to cover for her at the shop, which was easy to justify, as she hadn’t been gone more than a day since opening three years ago.
Something Randy regularly complained about. But she’d explained over and over that her vacations weren’t paid, unlike the corporate-sponsored cruises and resort escapes Randy’s company sent him on.
Gemma opened her closet and tugged a couple of shirts down from their hangers. Now that she thought about it, Randy hadn’t been complaining about anything lately. He’d been quiet overall, often waiting a day or two before returning her calls. Tonight they’d be going out for dinner, though, so maybe she could ask what was bothering him then.
As long as it didn’t turn into a fight—she didn’t want to go into her vacation with an upset boyfriend back home. She looked at the two shirts she held and scowled. She’d probably worn them at the last spring vacation, and the one before that. Everything in her closet was old.
Just like I am now.
Of course, she didn’t think thirty was necessarily old, but she hadn’t thought that at thirty, she’d still be living alone, with no husband, no kids, no marriage like her parents’. Or that she’d still be hanging out with her high-school friends—not that she didn’t love them.
Really, out of the five of them, the only one who could be counted as making a name for himself was Drew. Yet even he hadn’t married and settled down. His photographs were now national sensations, and he’d landed gigs with some of the largest fashion magazines in the country. He’d even moved to New York for a couple of years, but now he was back, where he said his “bones didn’t get cold.”
Gemma smiled at the thought. Nothing about Drew was cold—even at thirty. He could still be considered hot. And, like most good-looking, successful men, he knew it. He had an arsenal of girlfriends to stroke his ego, which pretty much meant he was a gigantic tease to his “sisters” from high school.
Arie was next on the totem pole of success. She was close to making vice president of a real-estate company. And Jess, scattered Jess, was lucky to have a job at all. She ran a home business making jewelry, but that didn’t bring in much income. Gemma had once mistakenly offered her a job at the shop. When Jess didn’t show up for work three days in a row, Gemma reluctantly let her go.
The best way to describe Jess was a cute bag lady, who seemed to get whatever she wanted, even when she became a widow. It didn’t hurt that her former husband was twenty-five years older and had left her quite a bit of money when he died. Jess seemed to have a hard time with jobs that were structured and required consistent hours. Hence her brief stint in Gemma’s floral shop.
Then there was Liz—twice divorced, with a six-year-old from her first marriage. Liz had changed when she became a mom—less spontaneous—but Gemma didn’t blame her. Liz was dating someone she thought was perfect, so Gemma was sure he would be the main topic of conversation for the weekend.
What will I tell her about Randy? Gemma wondered. Still dating. Still no proposal. Still living separately. Still working crazy hours. Nothing’s changed.
Gemma pulled down another shirt then tossed it on the bed. Nothing had changed in her life. Different boyfriend, different condo, different job, but really, she was essentially the same as she had been in high school. Gemma dug through her clothes, looking for anything that looked remotely interesting, but only found more of the same.
She glanced at the clock by her bed. It was only 4:30 pm, and she didn’t have to meet Randy until 7:00. She hadn’t braved any clothing stores in a long time, since ordering the basics online was so much easier.
Mind made up, she grabbed her keys and purse, leaving the packing for later.
Chapter Two
Gemma turned the rearview mirror to catch her reflection and nearly gasped again. She’d done it. Once in the mall, something had snapped inside her. Maybe it was seeing all the stylish mannequins and their cropped hair, thin bodies, and glittering clothing, but whatever it was, before she knew it, she had walked into one of those trendy salons.
The result now stared back at her. Pixie-short hair, streaked with blonde and auburn, blended with her regular brown. She didn’t know whether to laugh or squeeze her eyes shut. What would Randy think? She started the car, her hands trembling as she pulled out of the parking lot. She’d texted to say him she’d meet him at The Grille. In ten minutes, she’d see him. Or more accurately, he’d see her.
She thought for a second that she should change into one of the new tops she’d purchased, but then decided that Randy should probably be exposed to the new Gemma in smaller doses. She’d spent nearly $400 at the mall aside from the salon, more than she’d spent on clothing in, well, ever.
When she walked into the restaurant, Randy was on the phone in the waiting area. He gave her a slight nod then did a double-take. “I’ll call you back,” he said and snapped the phone shut.
“Sorry I’m late,” Gemma rushed to say.
“What did you do?” He eyed the top of her head.
She took a deep breath, trying to sound normal as she spoke. “Just a haircut. Wanted to try something different.”
Randy frowned. Frowned! Was chivalry really dead? Couldn’t he compliment her? Even if it was a lie?
Gaze still on her hair, Randy said, “Do you mind if we sit at the bar? Service is faster there, and I have another… thing to get to after dinner.”
“No problem.” Gemma followed him through the tables until they reached the bar in the center of the restaurant. The music was louder in that area, and at this point, Gemma wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
Randy’s presence at the bar drew a wide smile from the female bartender. Something pinched in Gemma’s heart. She should be used to it by now, and she supposed she was. Randy was a good-looking man, tanned, blond, fit, pretty much the California surfer type all grown up and serious. Other women always gave him a second look.
But what really made her heart hurt tonight was that there had been no physical contact between them when she came into
the restaurant.
And Randy was an affectionate man. But he hadn’t greeted her with a kiss or taken her hand. Nothing. Definitely unusual. Not that Gemma couldn’t instigate any of those things, but she sensed a distance in him tonight. Gemma folded her hands in her lap, clenching them together. She’d hoped tonight might be different. He knew she’d be gone all weekend, and with him having something else after dinner, that negated asking him over to her condo.
“So…” His fingers tapped the bar counter. “What will you have?”
Anything alcoholic sounded divine right now, but Gemma was seriously doubtful she’d be able to stop at one. Randy’s dismissal of her new look was certainly not helping her struggling psyche right now. She ordered a virgin piña colada while Randy ordered some red wine. If he was surprised at her choice, he said nothing.
A couple sat down at the bar a few stools away. As luck would have it, they were practically on top of each other, seemingly not even able to break away long enough to look at their menus. Wasn’t there some law against PDA or something?
Stop it, she told herself. You’re not a prude, and just because Randy is being weird doesn’t mean you have to criticize other people.
Still, her gaze kept straying to the very happy and lusty couple. They had no wedding rings in sight. Of course. Then her attention shifted to Randy. He was texting. The female bartender delivered their drinks and flashed Randy another smile.
Out of the corner of her eye, Gemma saw him return that smile, although she wasn’t sure if it was directed at the woman’s face or her cleavage. For an insane moment, Gemma wanted to throw the piña colada at something—at Randy or the bartender. She wasn’t picky.
“How was work?” Gemma asked when Randy took a break from his texting long enough to sip his wine.
“Busier than hell,” Randy said.
Standard answer to a standard question. How boring can we be? Although she had the feeling that if the bartender walked over right now and asked the same question, Randy would say something else.
“Look, Gemma, I really didn’t want to do this here...”
All thoughts of the bartender left her mind as she looked at Randy. His blue eyes were intent on her.
“Do what?” she asked. Did he want to go to a quieter restaurant? “Should we go someplace else to eat?”
“It’s not that,” he said, still staring right at her, until she wondered if she had something on her face. Maybe her makeup had smeared at the salon.
“It’s...” He reached over and took her hand.
That’s when her heart sank. His tone, his pleading eyes, his touch when he hadn’t touched her in a while. It could only mean one thing.
“It’s not you, please believe that,” he said. “You’re beautiful and wonderful, and I don’t deserve you.”
The words coming from Randy’s mouth seemed like a clichéd dream. Except for the fact that they were coming from Randy—the man she’d been dating for two years, the man her parents approved of. The man she’d said “I love you” to.
But his mouth kept moving, and the words kept coming.
“There’s no one to blame.” His tone was smooth, devoid of emotion. “And you have to believe me, there’s no one else. It’s just... Sometimes when I see another woman and think about how I can never get to know her, I feel trapped, like I’m blocked into a corner. And if I wanted to get to know that woman, theoretically, I couldn’t. I know I shouldn’t want to feel that, which is what makes this is so hard.” He exhaled. “I don’t think either of us should feel trapped.”
Gemma might have nodded. Or maybe she shook her head. She wasn’t sure.
His other hand grabbed hers. “But then I think about you, and I know I feel something for you. I know I love you.” He wasn’t looking at her though. He was looking past her, into the crowded restaurant.
Could anyone hear what he was saying? How many strangers were witnessing this?
“I just can’t see myself with you forever, you know? Not like your parents, or mine. It’s not that you aren’t a great girl, or we aren’t a good match. My parents love you too. In fact, they’ll be very upset when I tell them.” He stopped, looking at her again.
“When you tell them we broke up?” she said, surprised she could even speak.
“I’m really sorry, I don’t want to hurt you,” Randy said.
Gemma slid her hands out from under his. She took another sip of her piña colada then stood. Her eyes stung with tears, but she refused to let them fall. “Thanks for telling me. I know you’re busy, so I’ll let you get to your... thing.”
Just then the bartender arrived, a slight smile on her face. Gemma glanced at her, noticing that her nametag: Cherie.
Gemma leaned toward Randy. “I’ll bet she’ll give you her number.”
His face flushed. Gemma thought she’d be sick at his instant reaction. Somehow, she managed to walk out of there with her head up and her back straight. Maybe it was the new haircut, or maybe it was the $400 she’d spent on the clothes waiting for her in the car. Whatever it was, the Gemma who’d left her condo that afternoon was not the same woman who had returned to it.
Chapter Three
“He said what?” Drew said through Gemma’s Bluetooth.
“That his parents loved me too, and they’d be upset about the breakup.” Gemma’s hands gripped the steering wheel as she headed up the coast to Dana Point. At least they were no longer trembling.
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, ouch.” Gemma changed lanes. The next exit led to Dana Point Harbor.
Drew was silent for a couple of moments, and she imagined his brows drawn together as they did when he got that serious look on his face, which wasn’t often. Everything in life seemed to come easy for him—the photography jobs, the awards, the women...
“So it will just be the three of us then?” Gemma said.
There seemed to be a brief pause before he answered, as if his mind was elsewhere. “Yep, I’ll be there around 4:00. Just finishing a shoot.”
“Who’s this one for?”
“Oh, a little publication called Redbook.” The laziness was back in his voice.
She scoffed. “Wow. Your head is huge.”
He laughed; the sound of his laughter spread over her like a cozy blanket, and for the first time in twelve hours, she felt like things might turn out all right. Normalcy might return to her life. Without Randy. She had yet to tell her parents. Maybe she’d do it with Liz and Drew spoon-feeding her ice cream and massaging her feet. Although Gemma was determined that this weekend would be fun—she wouldn’t bring down the party. She’d put up with Liz raving about her boyfriend, and she’d laugh over Drew’s crazy stories of models who refused to eat a single cookie, yet gorged on Big Macs when they thought no one was looking.
“See you soon, sweetheart,” Drew said.
They hung up, and Gemma smiled. Not even Randy called her sweetheart, not that it meant anything coming from Drew—that was just how he talked—but it felt good knowing that someone cared about her. The conversation with Drew had been all about her. In fact, he was the one who’d called. He hadn’t replied to the text she’d sent the day before. So when her phone rang, Gemma assumed it was about the weekend, but then she blurted out what happened with Randy.
If she thought back over the years, she was sure that she and Drew had discussed every one of her breakups, and most of his. He hadn’t said anything about dating anyone new, but Gemma hadn’t exactly given him a chance. His last serious relationship was a couple of years back, ending about the same time she started dating Randy. Valentina was her name. Drew dated the most interesting women, with the most interesting names.
Valentina was from Puerto Rico, absolutely gorgeous in the magazine-cover way, and, of course, she was a model. Turning onto Crown Parkway, Gemma couldn’t exactly remember why Valentina and Drew broke up. For a while it seemed they were close to being engaged, but Drew had been vague about the details.
Gemma bit her
lip as her eyes involuntarily watered. She’d be spending the weekend listening to Liz and Drew talk about their exciting lives, while hers was in a major dead end. She shook her head, willing the tears back. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for herself; she hadn’t escaped work for three days to wallow. She tried to imagine what sorts of stories Drew would have, and who he might be dating.
The Five had always been a unique combination. None of the girls had dated Drew. Why not, she wasn’t sure, exactly. It was just sort of an unspoken rule. He was plenty good looking, even in high school, when he’d been as skinny as a rail. But it seemed they were all just good friends, and that was fine with everyone. It kept things from getting weird or awkward, which meant the Five were always a safe place to be themselves. A couple of years ago, Drew and Gemma had gone on a spur-of-the-moment double date. It wasn’t anything official—just a lot of fun. She’d been out a few times with Randy by then and was starting to like him a lot.
So she didn’t see the date with her and Drew as anything more than hanging out with a friend, and what made it entertaining was that the other couple they were with got into a huge fight. It made for a hilarious night—after the fact, of course. For months, she and Drew randomly texted each other things like Are you mad at me? to keep the joke going.
By the time the ocean came into view, Gemma discovered she was grinning at the memories. Grinning was good. Much better than crying over Randy. She hadn’t cried as much as she thought she would, and maybe that was because she sensed the tears coming and had steeled herself against them. Yet the tears were still there, waiting.
Gemma opened the car window, letting the warm sea air in. This weekend would be a turning point. New hair, new clothes, new relationship status. She glanced at her image in the rearview mirror, and her confidence went up a notch. She loved her new look, even if Randy hated it.
A Timeless Romance Anthology: Spring Vacation Collection (A Timeless Romance Anthology) Page 18
