by India Lee
“At least you’re here,” Gemma said. “We can still have fun. And if we don’t, we can consider this our support of Kate and Mitchell becoming a thing. I’m not sure where that leaves Corey, though.”
“I believe that leaves him completely oblivious to the fact that his ass is about to be dumped.”
“Whose ass is about to be dumped?” Corey asked, stepping into the room.
“Aren’t you supposed to be driving this damn thing we’re on?” Leah yelled, forcing a smile and flashing Gemma a quick look of regret.
“My brother,” Gemma blurted out. “Gavin. Um. Leah was recounting when she used to go out with Gavin. And she dumped him unexpectedly.” Gemma turned to Leah, making a face. Where did that come from? Gemma laughed, inwardly. The two girls exchanged a glance, as if to acknowledge that their half-lie-half-memory had served as a good save.
“Oh, okay,” Corey shrugged. “Mitchell is taking over for a bit. He and Kate are up there for the rest of the trip so I can take care of my seasick girlfriend over here.” He sat down beside Gemma, pulling her in by the waist. Leah pressed a hand to her mouth to suppress a potentially rude reaction.
“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Gemma shook her head. Corey stroked her hair, leaning her head into the crook of his shoulder. He removed his watch and took Gemma’s hand.
“Those anti-nausea bracelet things you were talking about, they’re mostly just a placebo effect,” he explained. He strapped his watch on as snugly as he could onto her wrist. “So let’s pretend my watch is one of those bracelets, okay?” He gave her wrist a quick squeeze and kissed the top of her head. Gemma bit her lip at the sweet gesture, feeling bad for what she had been saying just moments before. She peered up at Leah, whose face had softened as well.
“Thank you,” Gemma whispered.
“You know what I hear also helps?” Corey asked, massaging her shoulder. “They say that the ones that get seasick are the people who are resisting the motion of the water. If you just let your body follow the movement of the boat you’re in instead of fighting it, you’ll feel better.”
~
The weekend turned out to be far more enjoyable than she expected, and while it helped to have Leah and Kate around, Gemma legitimately enjoyed Corey’s presence as well. It was possible she had forced herself to, feeling guilty for agreeing to the trip when she had felt so tepidly towards him in recent days. Gemma did recognize that Corey was just about perfect, but there was something missing about him that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
After bringing Kate into the conversation, Gemma concluded that her feelings of ending things were premature. After all, they had only seen each other regularly for about four months – perhaps something hadn’t had the time to click yet. But she also knew it was possible that Kate was driving her towards Corey just so they could potentially double date in the future.
When Corey’s driver pulled up in front of Gemma’s building after dropping off everyone else at home, she considered asking him to come upstairs with her. She had yet to invite him to her place, but then again, she had yet to invite anyone to her place. Despite having bought and lived in her Chelsea apartment for close to three years now, she had never bothered to decorate or furnish it properly. She spent most of her days at Armand’s studio or her own boutique and both those places felt more like home than her own apartment.
“When do I see you next?” Corey asked as he opened her door for her. She took his hand, stepping out of the car and letting him lead her to the lobby door.
“I don’t know, maybe next week?”
“I was thinking, actually,” Corey started. “There’s a new lounge opening on Thursday in the Lower East Side. It’s called Greyta, I think you probably got an invitation.”
“I did.” Gemma had never actually seen an invitation, but she knew her Aunt Mira’s firm was hired to handle publicity for the launch and that Gavin and Zoe had mentioned it before as well. She wouldn’t need an invitation to go and the people there would be more her peers than his. It was funny to be around Corey sometimes. He had a tendency to forget that Gemma was once Queen Bee and that the paparazzi that showed up weren’t necessarily there just for him – which Gemma kind of liked. He had only ever known press and paparazzi throughout his life whereas Gemma only started to get a true glimpse in her teens, when she started her career as a singer. But Corey wasn’t being followed for his career or for who he was dating, he was simply followed for being himself – a Sloan.
“Should we go?”
“Sure,” Gemma replied. She flinched at her own response. Stop making plans with him if he bores you so much, she scolded herself. But she had planned on going anyway, just not with him. She wanted to spend some time on her own with her friends that would be there – and perhaps get a few more opinions on whether or not it was premature to break up with Corey. And it had been awhile since she’d seen her brother. Ever since Gavin and Zoe got back together, they had stayed holed up in their new home in Murray Hill, happy to be secluded from the world.
“Good, I’ll see you then,” Corey smiled, leaning in to give Gemma a quick kiss goodbye. Just as he did, Gemma caught a flash from the corner of her vision. She peered over to catch a paparazzo taking repeated photos, despite the fact that there really wasn’t anything new to see. Annoyed, Gemma could feel her heart beat a little faster. She’d been fairly paparazzi-free as of late, probably because her post-Tyler life was considered boring, what with so much focus on work.
Corey looked over at the paparazzo, giving him a quick wave.
“John! Hi!” Corey said, with a big smile. Gemma furrowed her brows. It wasn’t the first time Corey addressed a paparazzo by name. She found it both amusing and infuriating, as if she had learned that he had been regularly feeding the neighborhood rat.
“Hey Corey, big smile for me! And c’mon Queenie, smile for me,” John yelled, continuing to snap away. Gemma crossed her arms as she looked over at Corey, who actually gave him a quick smile and wave before giving Gemma another goodbye kiss.
“I’ll pick you up this Thursday,” he said before disappearing into his car.
~
“Please, Armand,” Gemma begged. “This news shouldn’t be devastating you quite as much as it is right now.”
Armand sat in the middle of the large backroom of her boutique, the space that she had been using as her studio and storage space for all her own fabrics and designs. Armand wrapped himself in a stray roll of charcoal silk, looking pitiable as he stared at the concrete floors.
“It is just that you are perfect, and he is perfect, and I love seeing all this perfection so neat in one place.”
“I didn’t say that I was definitely breaking up with him, just that I don’t really like him,” Gemma said. She paused before laughing at the ridiculousness of her own statement. Do you even need anyone else’s opinions?
“You are breaking my heart. And when you break Corey’s heart, I will be heartbroken all over again.”
“Of everyone in the world, you should understand the most why I shouldn’t even be dating right now!” Gemma exclaimed as she filed through a catalog of fabric swaths. The annual Gotham Ball was nearing, and The Court had gotten quite a few orders for pieces to wear to the famously costumed soiree.
“Being single for over five years is not my choice, Bee. It is just an unfortunate side effect of loving my work. You have a boy who wants to be with you even with your crazy schedule – and not just any boy, but the perfect boy. How could you not see what everyone else sees? That you have hit the jackpot! If I could find a boy who is this understanding, I would never let him go.”
“There’s just no chemistry,” Gemma said, shaking her head. “At least I don’t think so… I don’t even know anymore.” Her lack of a romantic life had certainly dulled her senses in that department.
“Not every relationship will be so full of the fire you had with Tyler,” Armand said. “Sometimes, this chemistry you say, it is not so obvious.”
> Gemma groaned, hating how every man she encountered was compared to Tyler. She understood that it was only natural. She had dated him the longest and it was by far her most public relationship. But it had taken her so long to truly get over him that the mere mention of his name still caused a slight knot in her stomach. Luckily for her, the media attention around Tyler wasn’t what it used to be. Ever since the success of Carbine, he had begun to be taken seriously by people outside of his already large fanbase. As a result, he’d spent the last three years enjoying his successful transition into award-worthy acting jobs, temporarily putting his music career on hold. They had only spoken once since their breakup over the phone, making arrangements on how to disassemble the home they had built together while dating.
“I’m supposed to feel something more though, aren’t I? Like, if not some kind of obvious chemistry, I should feel something when he’s holding me or kissing or even just being with me, right? I see that he’s gorgeous and technically ‘perfect,’ but I’m just not feeling that… something.”
“What can I say, then?” Armand shrugged. “I am, after all, a romantic. I cannot say that it is not important for you to feel that ‘something.’ But maybe, if not for you but for me, you give it another few weeks?”
“For you?” Gemma smirked. “Alright then, for you.”
“You know, in the next couple of weeks we are going to be so busy with preparing all the costumes. And when you are done at the end of the day, you are so broken from all the work that sometimes the only thing that can make you feel better is being in the comforting arms of a beautiful man. At that moment, you will not be thinking if you are feeling this ‘something.’ You will just be happy to not be alone.”
Gemma laughed. “That sounds like terrible reason to be dating someone.”
Chapter 2
Gemma could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she walked in on Corey’s arm. She had convinced him to wear a blazer that she had designed, her first ever attempt at menswear. It was definitely a fashion risk for the normally preppy Corey, with its asymmetrical, unfinished lapels and the bright orange silk lining inside the grey-blue shell. At first, she had felt kind of bad for ambushing him and making him stray from his militantly tidy wardrobe, but Corey also had an impressive lack of self-consciousness. Any qualms he had about the jacket disappeared as soon as he found a new shirt to wear underneath.
She looked up to admire the matching, messy look she had given his hair by combing her fingers through his long locks and mussing up the near pompadour that he regularly sported. Corey looked remarkably different with his new style, and surprisingly, he was having as much fun with it as Gemma was.
Giving him a mini-makeover was her personal consolation prize when she realized Gavin and Zoe wouldn’t be making it to Greyta’s opening. They had both cited long workdays and a desperate need to just pass out at home. Gemma knew they were telling the truth – Gavin’s agency had to deal with clients that had become free agents over the NBA off-season and it was all hands on deck. Meanwhile, Zoe was shooting in Brooklyn all day for her new show, Leadoff. Still, the news had come as quite a blow for Gemma. She was looking forward to seeing them, but more importantly, not being alone with Corey.
She was still battling herself about whether or not to end it with him. Every breakup she had ever had was mutual to some degree. Damian had moved across the country and Lucas had moved across the world – there was just some sort of understanding that it was better that they ended things, perhaps in an attempt to prevent getting hurt. And then there was Tyler. With him, it hadn’t quite been so simple and to this day, Gemma wasn’t so sure it was actually mutual. He had tested her with his words – let’s break up. And she had agreed too readily. But what the three situations had in common was that there was an actual reason to break up, an actual tangible factor that she could cite whether it was someone moving or things getting too complicated.
With Corey, things weren’t complicated enough and neither had any intentions of leaving New York anytime soon. He hadn’t even done anything to explicitly offend her, unless she counted mild obliviousness to lifestyles outside his own and perhaps his general inactivity. After dropping out of law school, Corey didn’t seem particularly concerned with finding anything non-recreational to do. At first, it was kind of fun to end her workday in the presence of a person so free and relaxed that his main focus was to help her have a good time, but it quickly grew repetitive. Over time, it just added to the boredom Gemma felt around him. I can’t break up with someone by telling them they bore me… can I? Gemma pondered the thought as she and Corey were ushered into the lounge.
Greyta was on the top floor of an old building by the Williamsburg Bridge. Enclosed in a greenhouse-like arrangement of glass and metal framing, they were just high enough to catch a great view of the river and bridges. The décor was largely French Industrial, with the exception being the ornate crystal chandeliers that hung from the metal framing. The bar was a long stretch of unfinished wood, studded and trimmed with galvanized steel. Perched atop the stools were familiar faces, most pulled from Mira and Hudson’s little black book of tastemakers and trendsetters. Gemma smiled, excited to know those faces would be attending her own flagship store launch in a few months.
Plucking a flute off champagne off a server’s tray, Gemma let Corey lead her towards the back of the lounge and up a grand, winding staircase towards the mezzanine. It was designed to match the bar with its unfinished wood and galvanized metal and proved to be a bit of a challenge for Gemma’s outfit. She had opted to wear one of her own designs as well – a halter dress with a draped neckline that showed the perfect amount of skin. The fabric was a light, dip-dyed robin blue silk and the hem was asymmetrical and frayed. The longest parts of the hem skimmed her ankle, just long enough to snag on a metal bracket and tear apart with a single misstep. She gathered the material gently in her hand, taking care not to wrinkle the dress as she held the hem above her knee and followed Corey to the VIP section of the lounge. The bouncer at the top of the staircase was dressed in a rather unconventional manner, looking more like an old-time soda jerk in his pinstriped vest and short-sleeved button down. He waved them in without checking their names on the list.
In the smaller, private mezzanine area, the décor was just a touch more refined. It looked to hold no more than fifty people and had a cozier, more private feel despite its sweeping view of all the guests below. The bar top was lined with stained, reflective glass and the barstools were upholstered with a tight-knit burlap. Each stool had a number printed on it, from one to eight.
“I guess they don’t trust us to remember where we were sitting,” Corey laughed, pointing at the stools. Gemma smiled politely at what she believed was a joke as he helped her atop seat eight. “What are you drinking?”
“Gin and tonic?” Gemma said, not really sure if that’s what she wanted at all. She watched as Corey ordered two. He had a habit of getting whatever she was getting. While it was cute at first, she found even this small gesture kind of annoying these days.
“Sloan! My man, you made it!” a voice called. They both looked up, spotting Walter Tabor making his way towards them. Walter was a childhood friend of Corey’s, as well as the starting quarterback for the Jets. Other than Mitchell, Corey seemed to hang out with Walter most.
“Tabor,” Corey reached a hand out and pulled Walter in for a pat on the back.
“Looking beautiful as always, Miss Hunter,” Walter leaned in to give Gemma a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you.”
“Damn. You must be responsible for Corey’s getup,” Walter laughed. “I can’t even get the man to wear my jersey to one of my games, but you got him to dress like this? You must mean something to this man, here. He takes his wardrobe seriously. I don’t know how you did it.”
“What can I say? She’s talented,” Corey said, reaching around her waist and giving her a quick squeeze. So cheesy. Gemma pressed her lips into a firm smile. I’m an
asshole, she thought directly after, well aware that she was looking for just about anything to add to use as ammunition to their impending breakup.
“Would you mind,” Walter started, looking at Gemma. “If I stole Corey away for a second? I have a friend at that table over there who’s planning a bachelor party for a mutual friend of ours and we could use some of his input. I’d invite you over too if I weren’t so sure that you’d hate our topic of conversation.”
“Oh, well, what could it possibly be about?” Gemma teased.
“I won’t get into anything inappropriate,” Corey said, putting his hands up in front of him and shaking his head. “Don’t you worry.”
“I’m not worried,” Gemma said.
“I won’t be long.”
“Take your time.” Gemma gave him a playful wave as she watched them walk away. She sipped on her gin and tonic and turned to face the view of the river. She had really held out hope that Zoe would show up at Greyta, mostly because Zoe had yet to meet Corey. Gemma knew that of all her friends, Zoe would be the one to share her feelings about him being wrong for her. Not only that, she’d probably also help put the breakup speech into the perfect words – words that Gemma would actually say, since Zoe herself would choose a blunter route. You bore me, she’d shrug, keeping it simple and turning on her heel to go about the rest of her life with no regrets.
With her little black straw, Gemma pierced the olive in her drink. She had kind of also been hoping for Zoe to come and balance Leah’s words from the other day. Forty-eight hours later, Gemma was still thinking about them.
Indeed, she had been lucky with guys. She had dated the most eligible bachelors, all perfect men in their own individual ways. And she was only twenty-two. Gemma wasn’t sure if this meant that there were better options to come or if the best were already behind her. What if she “let go” of Corey only to find that he was her last chance at the perfect man? What if there were bigger compromises in the future than not having “the right chemistry” with a man that everyone else seemed to love? He really was perfect on paper.
