“I got a call. From Bellamy,” I improvised.
“Oh,” she exhaled, sounding suddenly serious. “Is he reconsidering Quin’s offer?” she asked, knowing how doggedly Quin had pursued Bellamy who was just as dedicated to dodging an offer that would fund the entire economy of a country while he bounced around the world like some boxcar hobo.
“You know Bellamy. I need to tread carefully with this. I don’t have any answers yet. I might be away for a few days though. You know how this goes.”
“I haven’t seen Bellamy in years, but I vaguely remember waking up in three countries in as many days because of him.”
“I don’t want to get Quin’s hopes up, though.”
“Right. Yeah. I will just say you went to hang out with Ranger. No one will be any wiser.”
Since it was damn near impossible to get in touch with him. Most of the time, if you wanted him for a job, you simply had to park in the Pine Barrens then take the hours-long trek to his little ranch to tell him.
“That’s a good plan.”
“You’ll keep in touch? Let me know how it goes?”
“Of course.”
“Don’t look away from your drink. Lincoln swears he put something in his beer last time they hung out. Ended up in Vegas with a mini pig and no memory of the previous twelve hours.”
I chuckled at that, totally seeing it as possible. “Well, can we really blame Bellamy for that? This is Lincoln we’re talking about here.”
“This is true. Alright. Well, you two have fun. I am going to curl up under a cold compress and moan for the next few hours from all the fun I had last night.”
“Bananas and ginger, Miller,” I reminded her, having practically needed to force them down her throat after a job in Russia where she was plied with enough vodka to send a man three times her size to the hospital with alcohol poisoning.
“Yeah yeah yeah. I keep them on hand now. Don’t end up in a hotel in Vegas. But if you do, I get to keep the mini pig.”
“I’ll do my best,” I agreed. “See you in a few.”
I had barely hung up when I heard the bleep of the keycard in the door.
A different Jules walked in than walked out. It wasn’t one that I wanted to see, but it was better than the other one.
This Jules was red in the cheeks, was stiff in the shoulders, had her chin jutted up so high that it looked painful.
“How’d it go?”
To that, she exhaled hard, walking over to the window, kicking out of her heels, going up and down on her tiptoes several times to stretch out the aches.
“They’re worried about me. They told me how they both – both mom and Gemma – didn’t like Gary. Gemma likes everyone. She thinks Gunner is charming. Gunner. Charming. And…” she trailed off, closing her eyes.
“And what?” I prompted, sensing she needed the push.
“He hit on Gemma!” she exploded, throwing an arm out toward the window, face crushed.
“What?” I snapped, more than just surprised. Pissed. Gemma, who was like a little sister to everyone in the office, who – while she was technically of-age – was way too young, too sweet, too innocent to be hit on by some giant sleaze like Gary.
“At work one night,” she went on, turning to stare out the window. “Right under my damn nose. Cornered her at the coffee station, pressed her back against the wall, said something about how convenient all the empty offices were for a quickie.”
If I thought I was mad before, it was nothing compared to the way my blood was boiling then.
It didn’t take a genius to know how Gemma must have felt right then, trapped by her sister’s boyfriend, too sweet to want to ruffle feathers by pitching a fit, feeling lost at what she was supposed to do, how she was supposed to act.
“He made it so my sister didn’t feel safe telling me about how he had been inappropriate with her…”
“Hey,” I said, voice softer than I felt right then, moving up behind her. “You can’t blame yourself for that. You didn’t know.”
“I should have known.”
“How? By becoming a psychic? She didn’t tell you, Jules.”
“She never should have thought that my feelings for some guy were stronger than my love for her. That was my screw up.”
“That’s not fair. Your sister knows you love her more than anything. But you know Gemma. She doesn’t like to rock the boat or upset anyone. And she knew if she told you, you’d have dumped Gary, and she didn’t want to be responsible for that. This isn’t on you. Stop taking things onto your shoulders that don’t belong there. Pretty soon, you won’t be able to carry it all.”
“I feel like I am drowning in all of this,” she admitted, voice low, losing the rod that was usually implanted in her spine, her shoulders just barely brushing back against my chest. “Just when I start to surface, one more thing comes around to push me back under the water.”