by Melissa Jane
“We’re not a couple,” I interjected, causing Rufus to frown.
Beside me, David chuckled, clearly humored by my objection.
“Gemma is my right-hand-woman in many ways but not in marriage. She does put on a fantastic opening night, and I know your two heads together will create something even more jaw dropping.”
For the next hour, we exchanged ideas and potential would-be’s and could-be’s. David injected on occasion, his hand touching my thigh and arm as if to emphasize his enthusiasm. The rest of the time he sat back listening, his leg pressing firmer against mine with every passing minute. Wine appeared on the regular and before I knew it, I’d lost count of how much I’d consumed.
“It’s been a pleasure, Ms. Sinclair,” Rufus said standing and extending his hand.
“Please, call me Gemma.” I smiled warmly at him while nodding in acknowledgment. Standing aside, I allowed David to bid farewell to his client. When he turned back to me, he mirrored my expression.
“Well?” he exclaimed happily. “I think that went well.”
“I think you’d be right in that assumption.”
David exhaled heavily. Securing big name artists was always considered a victory, and so far we’d championed three in a row. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you, Gem.” He reached out, his knuckles affectionately grazing my cheek. That familiar, flirty glimmer returned, and suddenly my hackles were raised once more.
“Nonsense,” I dismissed, taking a step back. “We’re all responsible.”
“That’s what you do, Gem. You never can accept a compliment.”
“I can when it’s warranted.”
“Let’s drink to this,” he announced, excitedly. David reached for our wine glasses and handed one to me. “We make a great team, Gem. So, here’s to a promising future together. Cheers.” We raised our glasses and clinked. His toast, along with his lingering stare had me in all sorts of discomfort. I knew I excelled at my job, but hearing it from David’s mouth knowing his intentions, made it an excuse to act inappropriately.
Taking a sip of wine, I replaced the glass on the table. “I need to make a move, David, if I want to be ready for this massive project.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “So early, Gem. When you finish your wine, I’ll have my driver drop you home.”
Hooking my purse under the crook of my arm, I shook my head. “That’s fine, really. I honestly don’t think I can drink a drop more. I’m fine to get home,” I said with a smile, hoping to get him off my case.
“Nonsense!” He was having none of it. “I pass your place anyway on the way home. Please,” he said gesturing me to start walking. Conceding, I bypassed him, his hand resting on the small of my back. David was a lovely man. Yet, with each passing day, I grew more resentful of his advances and the predicament he was putting me in. To the point where being unemployed was becoming a more appealing venture. Outside, we hit a wall of warm air, but David’s driver was already waiting with the back door open.
“Evening,” I greeted the man who simply tilted his head in response before closing the door on me. David climbed in the other side, and within seconds we had pulled out onto the road finally heading for home. The trip was a quiet one as I watched the colorful lights pass us by. David wore a satisfied smile which he failed to disguise, our eyes only meeting when I could feel his lingering stare.
Less than fifteen minutes later, we pulled up outside my apartment building. With a wave of relief, I turned to my boss, bidding goodnight. “Thank you for the lift. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.” I was standing on the sidewalk when I heard his voice.
“Whoa!” David laughed. “What kind of man lets a woman walk to her door alone in the dark?”
The relief I felt earlier dissolved in a heartbeat. “Don’t be silly,” I said, watching him round the back of the car. “It’s ten steps.” It was too late, he was already by my side, his hand returning to the small of my back and guiding me to the stairs.
“Gem…” he started, “… you’re so headstrong. And while that’s a trait welcomed in business and dealing with difficult clients, you don’t always have to be in your private life.”
It was a gentle reprimand, one I didn’t need given his transparent intentions. Instead of correcting his chauvinistic interpretation of my life, I bit my tongue and took to the stairs, stomping on each in frustration. When I reached the foyer door, I turned to him feigning a smile.
“Right, so I’m safe and sound. Not a scratch on me.”
David shook his head in amusement. “You did so well tonight,” he started again.
“Thank you. Again.”
“I’m very fortunate to have staff on the same page as me.”
“You know—”
“And in saying that, I did promise you a promotion.” David took a step closer forcing me back until I hit the wall. “And I’m pleased to say that the way you dealt with Rufus tonight, you only reminded me of how deserving you are of this.”
I inhaled sharply. This was the moment I dreaded. The moment David hung my promotion like a dangling carrot, yet keeping it so far out of reach and only accessible if I played ball with him romantically.
He took my hand in his. “And granted, you have seemed rather… distracted of late, but nonetheless, I know you are the woman for the job.” David closed the space between us, his free hand snaking around my neck while his lips came crashing down onto mine. My hand splayed on his chest, pushing hard but he wouldn’t budge. He wanted to take what he could get in the short window of opportunity. As I tried to twist my face away from his, David held tight, my bare back scratching against the brick wall. My protests were muffled, his tongue forcing entry. I did the only thing I could. I bit down. Hard.
With a wail, David retreated. Taking a step back, he sucked his tongue grimacing against the pain. His eyes, however, told a different story. He was pissed. Just as I expected.
“Was that really necessary?” he asked, bitterly.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, David?” I spat angrily, ensuring my dress was still in place.
He had the audacity to look surprised. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want the same.”
“Are you crazy? I have a boyfriend,” I lied.
Well, as of this morning I did. But he didn’t know that.
“Gem, do you think I’m stupid?” The patronizing tone of his voice had my hand itching to slap him. “I know all about Peter.” A small smile played on his lips, and I felt a sucker punch to the gut.
“What do you mean you know?” I barely managed.
“I know that his business trips haven’t exactly been all about business.”
I folded my arms in defiance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play coy, Gem. I’ve seen the photos.”
He watched for my reaction, and I could feel my cheeks heating with rage. Before I had the chance to spew any hate, David held up his hand up to stop me.
“Before you start, I only looked because you were acting unlike your regular self. For the last week you’ve been jittery, stressed and distant. I had to know if you were okay and what was causing this reaction. And now I know. Peter was never right for you anyway, Gem.” David took a step closer, his eyes cajoling. “You need someone who understands you. Who enjoys the same things as you.” His knuckles grazed my cheeks, but I jerked my head away.
“You’re my boss, David. Was this whole promotion promise just a way of trying to get me into bed?”
He looked humored. I don’t know what the hell he found so funny about the situation. “No. But my decision still isn’t final.”
I inhaled deeply and took a step around him. “And there it is. You know what? I really don’t need the promotion if this is the way you’re going about it. I take my position at the gallery seriously, David. Promising a promotion and then ripping it away when I refuse to have sex with you is not the type of company I want to work for.”
“S
o, what are you saying? You don’t want the promotion?”
“What I’m saying is, I’m not a whore! You can’t buy or bribe me, David.”
He ran a frustrated hand over his face. A part of what was spilling from his mouth was alcohol induced, but it didn’t change the fact that this had been brewing for a while.
“That’s not the result I was looking for, Gem,” he said bitterly, nostrils flaring the slightest degree in frustration. “Maybe I could still change your mind. Show you how you might enjoy it.”
“David—”
Before I could finish, his left hand twisted through my hair, yanking my head until I yielded. I yelped in pain while being pushed against the glass door, David’s body trapping me. Behind him, I could see the driver still waiting in the car turning a blind eye to what was happening.
“You could just tell me how you like it, Gem,” David groaned, his free hand groping my breast.
“Get. Off. Me!” I seethed, feeling the raging heat radiating off him. He was dangerous, volatile and drunk, and not handling rejection well.
“I’ll show you all the things I’ve wanted to do to—” My hand slapped his cheek and across the eye. David recoiled, his hand covering the sting, both of us out of breath.
“Leave now before I call 911,” I demanded. “We’re done, David.” Furious, tears prickled my eyes.
“You made a big mistake, Gem,” David warned, straightening up his suit. “You and me, we could have been great together, in business and pleasure. A power couple.”
“There’s nothing powerful about you, David. Now leave.” When he didn’t budge, I pulled my cell from my clutch and dialed 911.
“It’s a shame you feel that way,” he said, carrying an edge of something… victorious? “Need I remind you, you are bound by contract to remain an effective employee until such a date?”
The. Fucking. Contract.
“That means…” he paused then continued, “… until that date comes you are still my employee, and I…” his smile broadened, “… am still your boss.”
The wind felt like it had been kicked out of me, and a tear that had been threatening to spill finally cascaded down my cheek.
Pleased with himself, David winked before turning down the stairs. “See you tomorrow, Gem.”
Chapter 23
Sliding down the tiles, I sat under the heavy stream of scorching water, pulling my knees to my chest. Tears flowed quick and easy, my heart sore. Everywhere I turned, I seemed to be losing control of the situation.
My boyfriend had proved to be a lying, cheating bastard who still to this second was hiding the truth from me.
My boss had become sexually violent, bribing me like I was some two-bit hooker in turn for a promotion, who I was bound by contract to continue working under.
And Mason Carter was still on the loose, happily turning my world upside down.
To say I was devastated about Peter was an overstatement. It wasn’t that I was cold and dispassionate. I genuinely cared for him, and his betrayal hurt. But I wasn’t in love with him. I had only ever been in love once, and that could have been passed off by many as a teenage crush. Yet to me, it wasn’t so trivial.
To say I was devastated by David’s actions? Yes. His behavior was reprehensible. He took what I loved, and used it as a bargaining chip in his sick and twisted game. I cherished my job at the gallery, and now he had forced me to withdraw from my passion in an effort of self-preservation. I’d be continually looking over my shoulder and fighting against his slurs and advances until my contract finished.
And then there was Mason. He’d re-entered my life as toxic as when he’d left it all those years ago. He was my own private stalker, a violent man who would stop at nothing to turn those I love against me, and instill such a fear into my being that any pair of eyes watching felt like him obsessing over my every move.
After a moment of feeling sorry for myself, I came to only one decision.
If I were to come out of any of this unscathed, I needed to regain control of everything.
Finishing up in the shower, I listened as the rings continued to voicemail. Hanging up, I dialed again. Water dripped from the tips of my hair marking my silk robe as I paced back and forth in my bedroom. Just when I thought he was refusing to take my calls, he answered.
“Gemma,” Peter reprimanded through a sleepy voice. “It’s late. What’s wrong?”
“Just ringing to see how you are,” I replied lightly.
“Fine, I guess. Just in bed.”
“Is she there with you?”
There was a tell-tale silence. “Is who there?”
“The blonde who likes to wrap her legs around you while you fuck.”
I wasn’t mad. Maybe a little. But this was all about finding some satisfaction in making him squirm.
“Have you lost your mind?”
Deflection.
Insinuation that I am the one at fault.
Both common tactics used by liars.
“I have pictures, Peter,” I said, feeling a heavy weight lifting off my shoulders.
Peter scoffed, suddenly more alert. “Pictures? You wouldn’t have pictures of anything ‘cause nothing has happened.”
“You don’t need to lie to me anymore. There’s no point. I just wish you had told me you weren’t happy, and we could’ve ended this without one of us being deceitful.”
“So, what do you want from me?” he asked bitterly like this was some kind of divorce conversation.
“I don’t want anything. I suppose I just wanted you to come clean and be man enough to say it to my face. But I guess, you’ve just proven how manly you are. Goodbye, Peter.”
“Gemma! You—”
I ended the call before he had the chance to talk. I felt fresher. Lighter. There was no use in crying over those who deliberately hurt you. They didn’t deserve your grief. My tears from earlier were purely out of frustration, not sorrow.
That was one thing taken care of.
Still, with my cell in hand, I composed a message to Detective Kinross asking if he could meet with me tomorrow. There was only a short minute before he responded with the answer I wanted.
Detective Kinross: Name the time and place.
I scheduled our meeting confident in the fact that Mason Carter needed to be stopped, and this was the only way to do it. I would have to come clean, yet the desire to amass any information that might implicate Lucas played on my mind.
The last thing I had to cross off my priority list was to visit the police precinct tomorrow and file a report against David. If he thought he could get away with this type of behavior, he had another thing coming.
~
“Hi,” Carleen mouthed, a hand covering the mouthpiece of her headset. She flittered from one end of the marble reception desk looking rattled and confused. Frowning at her bizarre state, I smiled and waved, although she barely noticed.
Upstairs in the first gallery space, I could hear Charlie’s voice. “I’m sure he won’t be long,” he said sheepishly. “Coffee? Tea? Wine?”
It wasn’t even midday. I’d spent most of the morning at Form Fitters talking with Brian about how to hang the majority of Rufus’s artwork and wasn’t aware of the unfolding drama back at the gallery.
Charlie hurried down the stairs looking just as out of sorts as Carleen. When he spotted me, his eyes widened, hands raised in exasperation. “Where is David?” he almost shouted but refrained, knowing all noise echoed upstairs to where the guests were seated.
“I don’t know,” I replied without care.
Charlie turned briefly to Carleen. “Try him again.”
Stifling a laugh at the absurdity of it, I bought into the drama. “Okay, you got me. What’s happened?”
Charlie looked like he was mentally preparing for war. “David was supposed to be here at seven. He’s had meetings booked for every half hour until lunch, and he hasn’t showed up and isn’t answering his cell. I’ve now got stock traders who had the eight o’c
lock appointment sitting upstairs because we all believed he’s just be late. I can’t tell them for a second time that he isn’t even in the building because they’ve already been waiting nearly four hours!”
Even for David, this was unusual. He took his business seriously and was always punctual. Perhaps he had been considerably more inebriated than I first thought. It would have explained his behavior.
“Hello? Are you in there?” Charlie asked, waving a hand to get my attention.
“Call his driver. Perhaps he dropped David off and can pinpoint his whereabouts,” I offered.
“Henry isn’t answering us either.”
“Then we’ll need to reschedule all of his appointments for today until we hear word as to where he could be.”
Charlie made a noise that sounded awfully like a dying cow. “This is not going to end well,” he said, walking to the front counter.
I, on the other hand, knew that David was a big boy and could look after himself. Unless, of course, something bad had happened. I turned to both Carleen and Charlie.
“Just cancel the appointments, and I’ll call the hospital.” They both paused, concerned over the extremity of my response.
“I’m not saying that’s the case,” I reassured. “But at this stage we need to cover everything.” Swiveling on my heel, I took to the stairs and bypassed the guests dressed in black suits as I headed for my office. Once inside, I closed the door and looked around. I no longer saw it as a safe zone. It no longer felt like a place I could grow my career.
Sitting behind my desk, I unlocked the bottom drawer and saw the gift box with Peter’s pictures inside. It still sat in the same place I’d left it. David must have keys to all the office desks, meaning nothing was off limits to his prying eyes.
Started my laptop, I drummed my fingers on the edge of the armrests, lost in thought. I had a lot to achieve today, and I couldn’t let David’s disappearance get in the way. He’d resurface when he decided to crawl back out from under his rock.
My home screen was a news page that often had a mix of serious world news mixed in with local, and comical stories. Before I could enter a search for the hospital’s number, an article caught my eye.