Page 64 of Tangled Up

I sank back down into the chair, briefly forgetting about Gemma and Matt.

“Bridge, I’m so sorry.” I draped my arm around her and handed a napkin over when her eyes turned glassy. Letting her cry on my shoulder for a few minutes, I found my focus floating back to Gemma every once in a while, her actions becoming looser, her laugh a little louder with every sip of her drink. She’d told me she didn’t do shots, but from the lime she sucked on, it seemed like she was downing tequila.

“She’s starting treatment next week,” Bridget told me, redirecting my attention.

“That’s good. How’s she feeling? How are you feeling?” We’d broken up, and even though I would rather be with Gemma at the moment, I also didn’t want to leave this woman who needed support at the moment.

“She’s trying to be strong, she’s putting up a good front, but I’m so scared. They only found it because my mom had been having pain for a while. She tried to ignore it, thinking it would go away, but…” Bridget held the napkin against her eyes, and it darkened with a mix of tears and makeup. “I’m sorry to dump this on you, but I saw you here and you look so handsome, and I felt, I don’t know…” She lifted her face to me, her pretty features marred with streaks of mascara. “I miss you, and I needed to tell you.”

“Bridget, if you need someone to talk to, I’ll be there for you. But only as a friend, okay?”

She nodded, a wave of fresh tears springing to her eyes, and lunged forward, hugging me.

Back at the bar, Mark slid his hand up Gemma’s shoulder, and she shifted as if to nudge him off. That was when my eyes met hers, and I exhaled harshly. “Bridge, I hate to—”

She stopped me with a kiss on the mouth, and I startled, immediately taking my hands off her, lurching my head back. “Bridget, no.”

I pushed away from the table, panic flooding my chest at the way Gemma’s face morphed to stone. She’d seen the kiss.

She tossed back her drink in one gulp then gestured for another.Fuck.

Bridget stared up at me, crestfallen, and I tried to let her down as easy and fast as possible. “You’re going through a really hard time right now, I get it. You need someone to be there for you, but I’m not that guy, Bridget. I’m sorry. You deserve someone who will give you his full attention. I meant it when I said I’ll be there if you want to talk, but that’s it.”

She covered her face with the napkin again, and I offered her one more apology before heading straight to the bar, where Gemma teetered on the edge of her stool, laughing with Mark, who didn’t seem at all concerned.

I righted her so she didn’t fall over. “Come on, I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

Matt raised his glass in her direction. “She’s all right.”

“Yeah, I’m all right.”

I motioned to the door, tugging on her hand. “Gemma, let’s go.”

“No,” she snapped and pulled away from me. “I’m having a good time with…”

“Martin,” the other guy supplied. “Don’t worry, I got her. I’ll take her home.”

I hated him. Hated everything about him. His goatee, his stupid drunk laugh, and his complete disregard for Gemma’s safety.

“Seriously, Gem. It’s not funny anymore. Let’s go.”

He put a hand on my shoulder. “Buddy, don’t worry—”

I scowled at his hand then back at his dopey face. “Listen, Mark.”

“Martin.”

“I’ve seen you around, so I know you work for Santos and Mitchell. That means you know I’m Jason Mitchell, head of the development department.” I knocked Matt’s hand from my shoulder. “I don’t give a shit what your name is.”

His face dropped, his ears tinged pink, a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You know damn well Gemma is not fine, so you can put your dick away because she’s sure as shit not going home with you.” I stepped up, literally, toe to toe with him, lowering my voice to drive the point home. “And if you continue to disrespect the CEO’s new stepdaughter, I will make sure somebody else has your job. I’m positive there is a college intern somewhere who could do it.”

He stuttered a response as I hauled Gemma off the stool to the closest exit. Rage took over. Rage at that motherfucker, at Bridget’s bad timing, and at Gemma’s own senselessness. After everything she’d experienced, she was going to let it go down like that?

Yet she dug her feet into the floor, twisting her arms. “Let go of me.”

I managed to get her out of the reception area and into a hallway, where I crowded her against the wall. I meant to shield her, but when she glared at me, I backed away two inches.

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