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“Yeah, I wonder why that is…” Finn said in a low enough voice for only me to hear as he passed by. It didn’t escape me that he had rubber gloves on and a spray bottle hanging out of his back pocket. He was off to clean something in the house.
“Speaking of recluses, you’ve been locked in your office a lot,” Kai went on, thankfully oblivious to everything.
“Paperwork,” I told him. Sure, the truth was that I had maybe been doing an hour of actual work each day followed by fucking around on my phone.
“Yeah, and how much longer do you think that is going to take?” Quin asked, moving next to Kai.
“I don’t know. A week or two. Why? There a big job going on?”
“Things have been relatively quiet actually. Mostly work for Miller and Nia.”
“She just got back,” I mumbled.
“Yeah. And she’s about to head back out tomorrow. Got a job in Mozambique. Local guy can’t get some hotshot trafficker to agree to some shit.”
“She isn’t going alone, is she?” I asked, knowing it was usually me who was with her, not liking the idea that she might be on her own because I was dragging my feet on my paperwork.
“To Mozambique? Fuck no. Organized crime is fucking insane there right now. I would never send her alone.”
“Please don’t say you’re sending Bellamy with her.” Lethal, he might be. But also a bit flighty, unreliable.
“Nah. Smith is going to take the time with her. We’re hoping it won’t be a long job. Though, from what I can tell, this trafficker is not one who tends to compromise.”
“He’s not under fifty and halfway decent looking, is he?” Kai asked, smirking.
“Couldn’t find any pictures of him. And it is driving Nia fucking crazy.”
“You guys aren’t talking about work, are you?” Jules asked as she breezed by with a tray of food. “We get enough of that every other day of the week, don’t we?”
Jules wasn’t one for scolding us, so we all separated, heading off in other directions, talking to other people.
I would like to say that my confusing feelings toward Gemma had nothing to do with the fact that I actively sought out her parents, stuck by them for most of the rest of the party, talking about how things had been since I had last seen them at Jules’ wedding.
It didn’t exactly escape me, either, that Gemma kept glancing over.
“Gemma, come over here,” her mother called a few minutes after the cake was cut, signaling the beginning to the end of the party. “You’ve been avoiding us all day,” she accused when Gemma made her way over, Benji on her hip, actively playing with her dangling star earring, the one that didn’t match the gemstone dancing around from her other ear.
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” she told her mother, pressing a kiss to her father’s cheek. “I’ve been spending time with these cuties,” she added, passing off Benji to his grandmother.
“You quit that job yet?” her father asked, making a look that seemed a bit like pain flash across her face.
“No.”
“We told you that we would help you out while you job-hunt for something less soul-sucking.”
“Honey,” her mom scolded. “We said we weren’t going to do this. She’s a grown woman. She can make her own decisions. Right, Lincoln?”
There was no mistaking the chin lift Gemma had at that, like her mother was reinforcing what she was feeling. That maybe she thought I was seeing her as a child, that I was trying to make decisions for her.
“Right,” I agreed, watching as her eyes blazed a bit defiantly at me.
“You love your job, right?” her mother asked.
“Yes. I get to travel, then get a lot of downtime after too.”
“Gemmy has always wanted to travel,” she went on. She had plans to see the world. But you know how life is. You need to get rational, pick a stable career. Things like that get pushed to the side.”
“If you want to see the world, Gem, I think that is something you should do.”
“I always appreciate your unsolicited advice.” The words themselves were biting, but the tone with which she uttered them was low, timid. Like maybe she had rehearsed the line to herself, told herself it is what she was supposed to say, but didn’t find much conviction to say the words with. “I’m gonna go help Jules get a head start on cleaning up.”
“I should go apologize,” her father told us, following behind his daughter.
“I’ve always liked you, Lincoln,” her mom said, pulling her chunky necklace out of Benji’s hand.
“I’ve… always liked you too,” I agreed, unsure what the hell was going on.
“It would be really nice to start seeing more of you. If things, you know, work out.”
And on that little gem, she was following the path the rest of her family had taken.
