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“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Most people who hang out together are friends. Not sure we classify as such.”
“We can be friends. We’re co-workers, so we might as well be.”
Arching a brow, I study her features and notice her lying tells. “Might as well be, huh?”
Her shoulders slump. “That’s not what I meant. We’re going to see each other a lot, so it’d be easier if we were friends. That way it’s not weird between us.”
“Does it feel weird for you, Gemma? Seeing me again? Working with me?”
Her tongue flicks out as she licks her lips, then sucks them between her teeth. “A little, but I’ll get used to it.”
“You think Richard would be okay with us having dinner?”
“Robert,” she corrects. “And it’d be a double date, so I’m sure it’d be fine. You might even find you two have something in common.”
I bark out a loud laugh, then rest my arms on the counter and lean in closer. “The only thing we have in common is we’ve both seen ya naked.” I flash her a wink, then walk toward the shop door before she can say another world.
For the rest of the afternoon, I stay by Jerry’s side, and we knock out several projects, finishing everything that was on the schedule for the day. Gemma pops in and out, relaying messages to her dad and asking questions about scheduling. When she walks back into the office humming, the sound goes straight to my dick and fucks with my head for the rest of my shift.
“Good night, Gemma,” I say as I walk toward the exit. She’s behind the counter, still avoiding eye contact. I stop and look at her before opening the door. “Don’t forget to set up that double date. I’m available Saturday.”
She finally looks up at me with a fake smile. “Sure, I’ll get right on that.”
With a smirk, I turn around, then leave. I know I’m getting to her as much as she gets to me.
As I walk home, I check my notifications and see Eric left another voicemail. My heart pounds hard in my chest when he mentions Victoria, begging me to call him back. As much as I don’t want to deal with the O’Learys or Eric, I doubt he’ll leave me alone until I return his call. So I decide to get it over with and hit his number.
“Tyler?” he answers.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
Eric releases a breath. “We gotta talk.”
“What do you want?” I have little patience already.
“I need you to come to Vegas and do a character witness deposition of Victoria O’Leary.”
“That’d be a death sentence for me,” I argue. “I literally got out of prison two weeks ago because she set me up.”
“Man, I know. I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t crucial.”
“What’d she do?” I ask, preparing for the worst. “Specifically. You didn’t tell me in your message.”
Victoria’s gotten away with a ton of shady shit, including shooting her brother in cold blood without serving any time.
“She caught me talking to the police and instead of letting me explain, she cornered me and my girlfriend, Amara, and demanded I prove my loyalty. She held a gun to my head, then told me to choose who’d get shot. Myself or Amara. I stepped closer and said me.”
Eric chokes up, and my stomach clenches at how his story ends.
“Amara burst out into tears, and I tried to calm her. I grabbed her hand and squeezed as the cold metal rested on my temple. Victoria looked at me with emotionless eyes, released the safety, then turned the gun on Amara and shot her without a beat of hesitancy.”
“Fuck,” I hiss between my teeth. Shaking my head, I swallow hard as bile burns my throat. “I’m so sorry, Eric.”
“That’s only a part of it. She had one of her bodyguards beat the shit out of me, which landed me in ICU for three weeks. Fractured ribs, bruises, broken jaw, and a punctured lung. She stood by and watched with a sneer like it was the best entertainment she’d ever seen.”
“She’s fucking sick. So why didn’t they arrest her?”
