The door pulled open.
All I saw at first was a tall, slight body clad in a pair of burnt orange shorts and a yellow tank top, her head ducked, hair wrapped in a white towel.
Sensing me or seeing my feet, her whole body jolted, stiffened, jerked backward as a shriek escaped from between her lips.
Her very familiar lips.
I’d know that face anywhere.
It had started temping at the office back when she was still in high school, her bright red hair and big blue eyes reminiscent of her older sister.
Side-by-side, there was no mistaking they were sisters; the genes were strong in that family. The same hair, eyes, height, build, porcelain skin. Jules had a small smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose, but her little sister had them over her nose and the tops of her cheeks.
I hadn’t seen her in a while.
Not since Jules’ wedding.
The second one.
The one that was real.
The only one that mattered.
The one that put Kai out of his misery after puppy-dog-eying Jules for years.
She’d been, I dunno, nineteen or so at the time. A kid still, really.
To be fair, she still looked like a kid in a way. She had one of those faces that could perpetually look like a teenager even well into her thirties. Though, by my math, she was maybe twenty-four or so.
Still the same girl I used to see around the office all the time in bright, bold clothes, floral prints, mismatching earrings, smelling of clary sage–which I knew because I’d asked once when I couldn’t place the scent–and quick with the sweetest, most open smile anyone had ever seen.
In fact, the only thing different about her seemed to be the subtle silver ring on the side of her nose.
Suddenly, the song came back to me.
It was the one I’d heard her singing as she filed or stocked the fridge or made us coffee.
“Geez, Lincoln,” she hissed, her hand slapping over her heart as her towel fell off her head, dropping to the floor at her side. “You scared me.”
“Gemma, what the hell are you doing here?” I asked, brows furrowing, trying to think of a single reason she might be around.
She hadn’t temped at the office in years, having gone off to college, grown up to do her own thing in the world. We all imagined that thing involved brightening everyone’s day. She’d always been good at that.
From what I understood, she didn’t even live in Navesink Bank anymore. Not too far, of course, since she was tight with her family, but far enough that she didn’t have a reason to be here in town this late at night at all. Let alone in the office. Or, even less likely, in the rooms above the office.
To that, she ducked her head, leaning down to fetch the lost towel, her wet hair a darker auburn than usual.
“Let me go hang this up,” she said, turning, trying to evade answering. I knew the tactic well. And I knew Gemma well enough to know she was a pretty terrible liar, so avoidance was the only way she could get away with not telling me the truth.
With that, though, she turned, rushed into the room, and through to the bathroom.
I didn’t bother following, knowing she would eventually–after brushing out her hair and trying to come up with a feasible excuse– have to come back out and face me.
“I could go for some tea. How about you?” she asked, brushing past me as though this were the most natural situation in the world. “Do guys like you like tea?” she prattled on, making her way into the common area.
“Guys like me?” I repeated, following behind.
“Oh, you know. The save-the-world types. I feel like you are all coffee drinkers. Black coffee, too, the worst kind,” she went on, grabbing the rarely-used tea caddy from the cupboard, and flicking on the electric tea kettle. “Yeah, definitely not the tea kind. And certainly not herbal tea. Which is all I drink. I get all shaky with caffeine. Oh, nice. Chamomile. Always a good choice. Especially this late at night when you’re trying to calm down for bed.”
“Gemma, honey, talking nonstop isn’t going to make me forget my original question.”
“I have completely forgotten the original question, actually,” she said, voice rising to an almost laughable level as her pale cheeks flamed. She didn’t even try to face me during the lie. At least she knew she was a shit liar.
But I could play along.
“The original question was about what you are doing here.”
“Oh, right, that,” she agreed, sucking in a deep breath, tapping her fingers on the counter top.
“Did you forget the question again, Gem?” I asked, watching as she grinned before glancing over her shoulder at me.
“No, I don’t have that short a memory,” she told me, turning fully, leaning back against the counter.