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“I have to talk to him,” she whispers.
I plead with my eyes not to give in to him, but she does and keeps her distance.
“Honestly, I didn’t know,” he says again. “You have to believe me.”
Watching with my arms crossed, I’m ready to pounce if he lays a hand on her.
“Maybe you didn’t, but as you mentioned before, there’s zero trust between us. I don’t think I can believe anything you say anymore, Robert. Not that it matters since we’re no longer together.”
He acts as if she slapped him in the face, but Gemma continues. “She’s dangerous. And if you’re as smart as you claim to be, you’ll walk away from her and that deal now before she turns on you, too.”
Robert opens his mouth, then shuts it. “I’m not scared of her…” His eyes snap to me. “Or you.”
Gemma shrugs. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m leaving.”
“You’re not going anywhere. You agreed to have dinner with me tonight. We have other things to discuss.” Robert growls.
He must have a death wish if he’s talking to her that way.
“No.” She doesn’t explain herself and takes the ring off her finger. She steps closer, then hands it to him.
“If you go, you’ll be sorry,” he threatens, studying the diamond he thought would be enough to make her happy.
Gemma shakes her head, and when she’s next to me, she smiles. “Ready?”
“This isn’t fucking over, Gemma!” Robert yells behind us.
She looks over her shoulder. “Go to hell, Robert. And take Victoria with you.”
I can’t wipe off my smug grin as we walk to her car. I grab her keys and offer to drive. Once I unlock the doors and we’re inside, I notice her breaths are ragged. When our eyes meet, sadness is in her expression.
“I’m so sorry you had to see her, Tyler.”
“It’s not your fault. Victoria is a sneaky bitch and lives for drama,” I explain.
“Is she why you went to Vegas?” Gemma asks as I turn onto the main road. Swallowing hard, I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to get her involved any more than she is either. The less she or Everleigh knows, the better.
“Yes,” I admit.
“I never put the pieces together. It didn’t cross my mind that she was the same Victoria that you knew, and I didn’t care to ask questions.” Gemma shakes her head. “I’ve met her before.”
“When?” I ask, trying to figure out the timeline.
“Monday night. We met her for dinner. She was the one who dropped the bomb about the wedding.”
I’m lost in my thoughts for a moment. No wonder she was quiet when I was in Vegas. Victoria was here planting the seeds for her evil plan, whatever it is.
“No telling what Robert’s told her,” I say honestly.
She groans. “I hope he kept his mouth shut, but considering she knew about the wedding, I highly doubt it. Robert has a habit of running his mouth if it means building a relationship with someone. His main priority is getting them to sign the contract, and he’ll do whatever it takes, including selling them the dream.”
“The more I hear about Robert, the more I can’t stand him,” I admit.
We sit in silence until the light turns green. She glances at me. “Wanna come over for a little while and keep me company?”
“Sure,” I say, my heart hurting for her.
It doesn’t take long before we’re pulling into her driveway. The lights in her father’s house are on, and I feel like we’re sneaking around like we used to when she didn’t want her dad to know I was sleeping over. Though, we should be careful because Jerry’s already suspicious as hell. Until he knows the truth, it’d be best if we’re not seen together outside of work.
When we walk inside her house, she sets her purse on the counter and sighs. “Today has been weird as hell. I need a strong drink of something.”
“It definitely has.”
When I look around the cottage, I glance at all of her mother’s paintings on the walls. There’s a large canvas of an open field surrounded by a forest with an absolutely stunning use of colors. “She was so talented,” I say as Gemma stands next to me.
“Sometimes when I look at this painting, I imagine myself going through the plush grass and running straight into the forest.” Her voice trails off, and I try to picture what would be beyond the landscape.
I search around the room for a specific painting, but I don’t find it. “Where’s that morning glories watercolor painting?”
Moving into the kitchen, I notice an abstract canvas with bright colors splashed across it—another beautiful one her mother created.
She tilts her head with amusement in her eyes. “You remember that too?”
“Of course. I thought it was in the dining room. Where’d it go?”
A blush hits her cheeks. “I put it in my bedroom. Wanna see it?”
