Ripped: The Price of Loyalty by Tania Joyce

 

Chapter 26

On Sunday morning, Gemma stepped out of the black SUV, stuck close behind Chester and entered the lobby of the London Hotel on 54th. Chester spoke to the maître-d at the restaurant’s entrance while Gemma, with dark sunglasses on and her baseball cap drawn low over her eyes, hung back waiting to be shown to her table. Trust her mother to pick one of the busiest restaurants in New York for brunch.

While she waited, she grabbed her cell phone out of her tote bag and called Amie to ask her about the agenda for the meeting she had scheduled for Gemma and the guys to attend at SureHaven. But Amie didn’t answer. And she hadn’t responded to earlier emails. Damn it. Gemma slipped her phone away and looked up when Chester came over.

“Your mother is already here.” His low monotonous voice echoed in the lobby. “She’s seated at the far-left booth. I’ll wait for you at the bar.”

“Okay, thanks.” Gemma hooked the strap of her tote bag over her arm. “Make sure you eat something too.”

“Shall do. You know where I am if you need me.” Chester motioned her forward with his hand and guided her into the restaurant.

Gemma made it halfway through the restaurant, past diners sitting in front of plates full of omelets and pastries or sipping on their Prosecco when her mother’s voice shrilled across the room.

“Gemma. Gemma.” Janine slid out of the booth and scuttled over on her ridiculously high bright-green stiletto platforms to greet her with a hug. “Oh, my darling baby girl. It’s soooo good to see you.”

Gemma’s face disappeared into her mother’s pouffed-up, peroxide-blond hair that stank of hairspray. Janine kissed her on the cheek, which left Gemma rubbing at her skin to ensure there was no bright fuchsia lipstick left plastered on her face.

Whispers from nearby diners hovered in her ears. That’s Gemma Lonsdale. From Everhide.

So much for trying to be inconspicuous.

Gemma walked over to her mother’s table and slid into the booth. A roomful of eyes watched her every move.

She smiled, gave a little wave, and then turned her attention to her mother.

“Nice to see you, Mom.” But she couldn’t muster up any excitement. “What’s it been? Thirteen months?” She pulled off her baseball cap and placed it onto the seat beside her. The gentleman at the table next to them smiled at her, but continued reading the paper and sipping his cup of tea.

“Oh, has it been that long?” Janine retouched her lipstick and pouted into her hand mirror. “I saw you before tour. You were in rehearsals. Oh, my goodness.” She tapped her acrylic nails against her lipstick case. “Has it really been that long?”

“Yea-p.” Gemma glanced over the patrons, making sure there were no overzealous fans seeking photos or autographs. Normally she wouldn’t mind, but her mother would relish the attention. Luckily, most of the people eating were adults, which meant she might be able to eat breakfast undisturbed. She checked where the exits were—a force of habit to know where the quickest route out of the place was if the fans got too much—and nodded to Chester to let him know she was okay. For now. “Did you work things out with Victor or are you still getting divorced, Mom?”

Her mother ignored her and waved to the waiter to come over and pour her another glass of Prosecco.

The waiter bowed and turned to Gemma. “Ms. Lonsdale, it is an honor to serve you this morning. Would you like a glass?”

“No, thank you,” Gemma said. “Just a bottle of water please.”

“You can have one glass of bubbly with your mom, can’t you?” Janine tilted her glass toward Gemma.

“No-pe.” Gemma said. “Champagne or anything bubbly messes with my vocal cords. I can’t risk it, considering we hit the studio next week.”

The waiter stashed the bottle in the ice bucket at the end of the table.

“Your loss. More for me.” Her mother downed the Prosecco as if it was fruit juice. “Let’s order food, and then we’ll talk.”

While the waiter dashed to the bar to fetch her a bottle of water, Gemma grabbed the menu. Food was a great idea. The sooner she ate, the sooner she could get out of there. Talking to her mother was not her favorite pastime. After taking their orders, the waiter took off across the timber floor and headed for the kitchen.

Her mother helped herself to Prosecco, pouring herself another glass.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Gemma straightened her cutlery. “What’s happening with Victor?”

Janine tapped her fingernails on the stem of her flute. “Well . . . we’ve signed the divorce papers.”

Gemma puffed her breath out through her nose. “Why am I not surprised?” But Gemma didn’t feel sorry for her mother; she felt sorry for Victor. He was nice . . . gullible . . . old . . . but nice. “What happened?”

“We had very different needs. Especially in the bedroom. If you know what I mean.” Janine’s loud voice carried, probably far enough for the three tables next to them to hear. When the man beside them looked up, Janine winked at him, but he quickly returned to reading his newspaper.

Gemma rolled her eyes at her mother. “I don’t want to know what your needs are, Mom. So now what?”

“We’re going to settle out of court because he’s promised to look after me financially.” Janine had a triumphant glint in her eye that made Gemma sick to the stomach. “You don’t have to worry about me, baby girl.”

“I wasn’t,” Gemma said, her tone short and sharp.

“I’m here until tomorrow night,” Janine said. “Then I’m on my way down to Florida to meet up with Antonio. Oh, you’re going to love Antonio. I met him in Cyprus. He’s Italian. I can’t understand what he says half the time, but he’s a great lover.” Her mother’s eyes shone as if she’d won the jackpot on a casino slot machine. “I told him all about you, and he can’t wait to meet you.”

“Is this going to be husband number five?”

Janine let out a high-pitched laugh and threw her head back. “Oh, you do know how to make a joke.”

But Gemma wasn’t laughing and wasn’t even remotely close to doing so. “How rich is this guy, Mom? Is he better off than Victor? I bet my life he is.”

Janine’s smug smile was all the confirmation Gemma needed. “What can I say? I fall in and out of love easily.”

“You’re not with someone long enough to fall in love. Do you know what it even is?” Gemma’s hand went to her throat and touched Kyle’s necklace. She wondered if her mother ever felt for any of her men like Gemma did for Kyle. And more to the point, if she’d go to the lengths Gemma would go to, to fight for and protect her relationship. She highly doubted it.

“And you do?” Janine arched her penciled eyebrow. “You . . . who hasn’t had a serious boyfriend since Ben. Or so you tell me. Or are you jealous that I’ve found a new lover who is fantastic in the bedroom?”

“Ew. Gross. No, I’m not jealous.” Gemma poured herself a glass of water and took a long drink, hoping it would ease the nausea pooling in her stomach.

“We’re both adults. Sex is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed.” Gemma shook her head. “I just don’t want to talk about it with you in the middle of a restaurant.”

Plates of food arrived. The smell of bacon and maple syrup wafted from her mother’s plate and Gemma pushed the granola around in her bowl, unsure if she’d be able to stomach it.

“So, talking about sex.” Janine’s voice turned all sweet and innocent. She fluttered her fake eyelashes against her over-rouged cheeks. “What’s happening between you and Kyle?”

“I’ve already told you. There’s nothing going on.” Gemma scooped a spoonful of granola into her mouth. She pictured Kyle, sitting beside her through interview after interview this past week. The way he brushed his thumb over his lips when he concentrated on his answers, the way he propped his foot up on his knee and wiggled it when he stressed, and the way his espresso eyes smoldered at her when they were alone. Underneath the curtain of lies, they knew the truth.

But her mother was not in her trusted circle of friends, and she wouldn’t tell her about their relationship. And she never would.

Janine finished her mouthful of bacon and leaned forward, her huge breasts squished against the edge of the table to form an abyss of cleavage. “Something happened on that pier, and I want the details. I have suspected that something has been going on between you two since Hawaii. Did you break up? Is that what the fight was about? Then you had make-up sex in Hunter’s car?”

The niggle in the back of Gemma’s neck grew stronger, and her skin prickled. Why was her mother searching for details? There was something about the edge in her tone—a hunger, a desperate need, an obsession.

“Why do you care? Is it so you can compare your failed relationships against mine? Score points? Will that make you feel better about yourself?”

Janine straightened, her face void of all emotion and stared at Gemma with an icy glare. She flicked her hand at Gemma, her fuchsia talons catching the light. “You think you’re so perfect, living in your perfect little world, with hot guys dripping off you, traveling the world in first class, and playing your stupid guitar every day. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.”

Gemma choked on a mouthful of food. “Oh my God. My life is far from perfect. You of all people should know that. I worked my ass off to get where I am today. Your view of the world is skewed. You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.”

“I won’t deny dropping your name helps in certain social circles.” Janine pushed her empty plate aside, folded her hands, and placed them on the table. “Now, tell me what happened on that pier. If you won’t, maybe Kyle will. Maybe he’s more forthcoming with information like Ben was. He played the game well.”

Gemma’s heart faltered and the hairs on her arms stood on end. “What do you mean? What information from Ben? What game?”

“Oh, it was so long ago.” Janine tilted her head back and laughed again. Laughed as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Tell me.” Gemma said through clenched teeth.

“I can’t believe how naïve you are sometimes. My sweet, sweet Gemma.” Janine sighed. “Ben was the one who told me the name of the private villa you were staying in on your vacation. I made one quick call, cut a deal, and the photographers were there. It was all planned out perfectly. Ben made a few bucks . . . and so did I. A lot, actually.”

The breath shot from Gemma’s lungs. “You did what?” She clasped her hand around her water glass. She wanted to throw it in her mother’s face, glass and all. “You sold me out for money?” Gemma’s voice shook. Her whole body shook. Her blood boiled in her veins. “You know how humiliated and hurt I was after those photos went viral. How could you betray me like that?”

Gemma flexed her other hand underneath the table. She grabbed hold of the cushioned seat. Anything to stop herself from lunging across the table and strangling her mother.

Janine blinked and shrugged. There was no flicker of remorse in her eyes. No tears. No nothing.

The gentleman at the neighboring table glanced over, concern drawn on his face. “Are you okay?” he mouthed.

Gemma forced her head to nod, but she was far from all right.

How did one come back from this?

She closed her eyes and tried to stop the ringing sound of her mother’s voice in her ears. All this time, she’d thought it was just Ben who betrayed her. She’d never imagined her mother had been involved. Her own God damn mother. This woman with no soul.

Kyle was right. He’d been right all along. Gemma was nothing like her mother. She never had been and never would be, because she had respect. Respect for herself and respect for Kyle and Hunter, and she would never sell them out. She would protect them for as long as she lived.

Tears of hate stung her eyes as she glared at her mother. “What have I ever done to hurt you? Why are you so spiteful?”

“Because everything you do turns to gold. Your record deals, your hit-singles, your industry awards. You live the high life in your designer labels, your fancy cars, your product endorsements.” The bitterness in her mother’s tone socked Gemma in the guts. “Aren’t I entitled to a little piece of it? After all, I gave birth to you.”

“Is that it? You’re after money from me? Haven’t you got enough out of your ex-husbands?”

“I certainly have. But I like to make a little bit of cash on the side.” Janine sipped on her drink. An evil smile curled one side of her lips. “That’s why I’m here doing an interview.”

“You’re doing an interview for money? Who’s the interview with, Mom?” Reality hit Gemma like a blow to the back of the head. “Holy shit . . . you’re going to the tabloids?”

“It’s just a story.” Janine tugged on her chandelier earring, looking more innocent than a Catholic schoolgirl.

Ice shot through Gemma’s veins and froze around her heart—anything to stop the ache and pain from being betrayed by someone who was supposed to love her. Gemma had always been cautious around her mother and her lust for gossip. Now she knew why. “You sold me out? Again?”

“You know I love you, baby girl.” Janine waved at the waiter and pointed to the Prosecco bottle in the ice bucket for another one to be brought over.

“Love me?” Gemma pushed her bowl away, unable to eat any more than a couple of spoonfuls. “If you loved me, you would respect me and protect what little privacy I have. Now . . . knowing you were behind the story with Ben, everything is clear to me. I haven’t been in a relationship since Ben because I’ve been terrified. Terrified of being humiliated again. And terrified because I thought I would end up like you, going from one man to the next. But for the first time in my life, I realize I’m not like you at all.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I think you and I are very alike.” Janine waved her hand, her wrist full of bangles and chains tinkering together. “We’re both ambitious and have always been after something better.”

A flicker of doubt washed over Gemma. She’d always been hungry for success, but had achieved it through hard work. But . . . oh no. She’d sold her soul to SureHaven Records to become famous. Was that just like her mother’s relentless pursuit of money?

No. No. No. Her deal with SureHaven wasn’t anything like that. Gemma and the boys knew what they were getting into right from the start. They’d entered their contract fully aware of the costs. They hadn’t hurt anyone or taken advantage of someone’s vulnerability. They hadn’t achieved success at the expense of someone else. They hadn’t slept their way to the top.

“There’s nothing wrong with being ambitious, Mom,” she said. “But the type and how it’s done is. And that’s where you and I will always be different. I will always respect myself and will always respect Kyle and Hunter.”

“Respect.” Janine’s mocking tone struck her like a cymbal. “You had sex with Kyle in a supercar.”

The blood drained from Gemma’s face. Half the restaurant turned their heads in her direction again. The waiter, clearing the table two rows down, dropped a coffee cup and spilled its remaining contents all over the cloth.

Gemma shook her head, unable to tolerate her mother any longer. She’d had enough. She had to get out of there before she caused more of a scene. “We’re done.” Gemma signaled to Chester sitting at the bar to call for the car. “I’m not talking about this anymore.”

Janine folded her napkin and placed it on the table. “You’re so much like your father. So faithful and loyal and caring. And pathetic.”

“Well, good. As long as I’m not like you. Go tell the gossip magazines about how ungrateful I am, or what a shitty daughter I am. Or go make up some wild tale about my love life. I’ve tried so hard and for so long to have you in my life, but I can’t do it anymore. It’s exhausting. So from now on, don’t bother to call me. Stay away from me. Go back to Cyprus, or Nice or Florida or wherever the hell it is you crawled out from and leave me the fuck alone.” Gemma grabbed her baseball cap and jammed it onto her head, then picked up her tote bag. “Don’t even bother to send me an invite to your next wedding because I won’t come. Not if my life depends on it.”

Chester was quick to his feet the moment Gemma stood. The gentleman who’d overheard most of Gemma’s conversation with her mother gave her a sympathetic smile. At least now he might get to read his paper without being disturbed.

Chester led her out of the restaurant and into a throng of waiting cameras. He charged between her and the paparazzi. She held her head down and hung on to her cap. There were flashes and snaps, and people calling out all around them. Chester wrapped his arm around her shoulder, guided her into the waiting car, and slammed the door shut.

On the back seat, Gemma drew her knees up to her chest and her body shuddered. All the anger and pain and hurt flooded in tears down her face.

“Another delightful get-together with your mother, I see.” Chester reached into his pocket and handed Gemma his handkerchief.

“She’s a real piece of work. But one who’s not going to affect me anymore.”

 

The streets and avenues flickered past the window of the SUV. Gemma wiped the tears from her eyes, and despite it being one of her worst encounters with her mother in her life, she was glad it had happened. She now knew the depths of her mother’s shallowness and disregard for her. She now knew her intuition not to trust her mother was right. And with that knowledge, Gemma blocked her mother out of her heart.

She couldn’t believe it had taken her so long to realize she was nothing like her mother at all. The wakeup call was all thanks to Kyle.

A smile crept across her face when she thought of him. And Hunter. They were her life. They were the only ones she could trust. She loved them both. She always would.

Hunter was like a big goofball of a brother.

And Kyle . . . well . . . Her chest swelled, and her heart thundered. All the covering up and the diverting from the truth about their relationship over the past week had only reinforced one thing in her mind.

She loved him.

And he loved her.

Chester and the driver dropped her off outside Kyle and Hunter’s apartment. She let herself in with her access token and rushed upstairs. Guitar and piano music filled the hallway, and Gemma charged through the door into the music room. Hunter jumped in his seat at the piano.

“Fuck.” Hunter’s hand shot to his chest. “You scared the living shit out of me.”

Kyle’s eyes lit up when she walked toward him. She snaked her hands around his neck and kissed him. “I love you. I really fucking love you. And I want to show you how much. Your room. Now.”

Kyle ripped the guitar off his neck and placed it on the stand.

“You’ve been crying.” He brushed his thumb across her cheek. “What’s your mom said or done now?”

“I’ll tell you about it later. But right now, I need to make love to you.”

Kyle weaved his hands around her hips, and she jumped up to curl her legs around his waist. She threaded her fingers into his hair and kissed him hard on the lips. He smelled so good, all fragrant and spicy.

“Hello?” Hunter groaned and struck the piano keys. “Someone else is in the room.”

“Back soon.” Kyle walked toward the doorway and carried her out of the room.

Halfway down the hallway, Hunter called out, “Don’t be long . . . We have practice to do . . . I’ll be here . . . by myself . . . waiting . . . Are you two done yet?”

Gemma kicked her shoes off, ripped Kyle’s shirt over his head and straddled him on the bed. Frantic hands discarded their clothes. Urgent kisses connected their mouths. With his love, she’d find the strength to move on from today. She had to. Because with her mother out of her life, surely nothing else could go wrong.