I saw Gemma’s call come in, but was in the middle of another call and couldn’t get to her. I was glad to see a voicemail notification pop up seconds later. She seemed… just not herself last night. After I dropped off Mila, I couldn’t stop thinking about Gemma. She wasn’t like any other woman I had ever known. She was special, fragile almost, and yet, she was strong at the same time. After what she’d survived, I’d even go so far as to say I thought she was one of the strongest women I might ever know. And she never let it break her. She was always one of the most upbeat, happy, optimistic, brighten your day with a smile, kind of people you’d ever meet, in spite of it all. She deserved to be happy.

I had sent her a quick text earlier to let her know I was thinking of her. We’d always had a close friendship, I’d even go as far as to say she was my best friend. Romantic relationships never seemed to work out for either of us, so we tended to be there to console and offer a sounding board for each other. I knew why they didn’t work for me, but for as much of a believer in love as she was, I could never put my finger on the why for her. I wasn’t going to question it too deeply right now though.

“Bastian, did you get that?” My father’s voice boomed through the speaker phone.

“Yes, sir. I’ll get right on it.” I didn’t have to pay attention too closely to know what he expected of me.

“The success of your mother’s party depends on you getting it right.” His tone was filled with exasperation.

“Step-mother, father. She’s my step-mother. I’ll again make sure the caterer knows only Cristal should fill the champagne flutes and that the crab puffs are not to be made with imitation crabmeat.”

I’d hardly say this is what the success of the party depended on, but I had promised him I’d help with the surprise party tomorrow and he wanted everything to be perfect for my new step-mother’s thirtieth birthday party. Yes, I said thirtieth. She’s young enough to be my sister.

That being said, who could blame him? We all knew she wasn’t with him because she loved him. She loved his wallet, and he didn’t mind spreading it open whenever she wanted him to. He spoiled her so that she’d stay and be the perfect wife. They’d been married for less than a year and together for a few months longer than that. She wasted no time locking him down, the little gold-digger. This marriage wouldn’t last either though, I was sure of that. But I’d let him enjoy it while it did. Believe it or not, I do honestly want him to be happy, hence why I agreed to help with this party. God knows he has enough money to hire someone to professionally handle it, but he said that he only trusts two people to get it done right, he and I.

“Thank you, son. What time will you be here tomorrow?”

“The guests will arrive around 7:00pm, so I’ll be there by 6:00pm to make sure everything’s in order.” I knew he wanted me there earlier, but I had my own shit to handle tomorrow before the party.

“Ok, we’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to see the surprise on your mother’s-”

I cleared my throat loudly to interject, but he caught himself this time.

“Or rather, your step-mother’s face. Thanks again for all of your help. I know you’re really busy, son, so I truly do appreciate you making the time to help out your old man.”

“Glad to do it. See you tomorrow. Goodbye, Father.” I disconnected the call and picked up my cell to listen to Gemma’s message. Just hearing her voice brought a smile to my face. She needs my male perspective, this must have something to do with Geoff.

I finished up the work that my father’s call had interrupted and logged off my computer. It was quittin’ time. I dialed Gemma up as I grabbed my briefcase and put my new prospective investment opportunities into it.

“Hey, you!” She answered, the smile that was on her face evident in her voice.

“Hey, back. I just finished up at the office and saw I missed your call. What can I give you my expert male perspective on this time?” The fact that she still needed me made me feel important in a way that was different from being needed in day to day life and business situations.

“I don’t know, I just... um, I just feel like I need to bounce something off you,” I could hear the hesitancy in her voice as she continued, “but I might need a couple of drinks first, to help loosen my tongue.”

“I’m free right now. Wanna meet at The Vig?” I glanced at my watch. “Happy hour is about to start.” Gemma loved happy hours, and so did I. I might have money to burn, but I was smart with it. It’s not about how much you make, it’s about what you hold on to. Someone told me that once, and they were right.

“Sure, I just got home from a shoot and I have to finish unpacking my stuff. Give me half an hour?”

“No problem, I’ll get us a table. See ya in a bit.” I hung up smiling, wondering again what she needed my help with. Not that it mattered. I’d help her with anything. I stepped inside the ensuite in my office and took a good look in the mirror. I’d worn casual clothes to work today, opting for jeans, a graphic T-shirt and a nice pair of brown leather shoes, perfect happy hour attire. I splashed a little water over my face, but couldn’t seem to stop the broad smile was still plastered there. My hair was a little messy from running my hands through it throughout the day, but all in all I thought it was a look I could pull off, so I left it alone.

As I drove to The Vig, I zoned out listening to music. I remembered to call the caterer to confirm everything for tomorrow and remind him once again about the Cristal and crab puffs. This was the third time I had reminded him. I was sure there was no way it would have been screwed up, especially with what we were paying him to make sure everything was perfect, but I had promised I would call so I was keeping my word. I parked and entered the bar, it was already starting to get crowded, but I lucked out and was able to get us a table without having to wait. The waitress came and took the order for our drinks and I took the liberty of ordering flatbread for us as well.

I was going through the emails on my phone, but I still knew the minute she walked in because all conversation around me paused for a few seconds. I glanced up and saw her scanning the bar for me.

She had always been a knock-out, even in high school. I don’t ever remember her having that awkward stage that most teens go through. But she was also one of those women that had no idea just how gorgeous she actually was. Her long dark hair fell in waves nearly to her butt and her dark blue eyes shined like gems, like sapphires, and were fringed with thick, long dark lashes. More than all of that, aside from her exterior, she had a beautiful soul that naturally compelled people’s interest. Today she was wearing skinny jeans, red stilettos and a fitted black T.

She didn’t have much makeup on, but she did have her heart shaped lips painted red. To be more accurate, she looked fucking hot. I felt my cock twitch as sexy images flickered through my head; me peeling those jeans down her legs, those red lips wrapped around my cock, her eyes fluttering closed as her head tipped back in ecstasy.

She’s just your friend. She’s not a fuck-toy for you to screw over. You’re exactly the type of man you always vowed to protect her from, I reminded myself. I adjusted myself inconspicuously under the table before standing to greet her, this was common practice for me whenever I was around her.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” she smiled as she leaned in for my hug. I only let myself get lost in the embrace and her sweet scent for a few seconds before pulling back and sliding her seat open for her.

“Not at all. How did your shoot go? What did you have on a Friday?”

Before she could answer the waitress showed up with our drinks, a scotch on the rocks for me and a vodka cranberry for her, along with our flatbread.

“Thanks for ordering.” She raised up her glass in a toast. “To the best friend a girl could ever hope for, who always has the best advice to give when I need it. Cheers.” She clinked her glass to mine.

“Cheers. Glad to help.” I took a sip of my drink, then grabbed a piece of our appetizer and listened as she told me about her day. She picked up her own piece of the bread and ate it as she talked. She shared about the engagement photos and then about her nature shoot.

She flagged down the waitress for a second drink. “Do you want another?”

“I’m good for now,” I lifted my still nearly full glass for her inspection.

“Just me, I guess,” she shrugged to the waitress. “Can you make this one a double?”

Gemma wasn’t a big drinker, but when she was nervous and needed liquid courage, she tended to go all out.

“I’ve been rambling on and on.” She mumbled as she turned back to me. “Enough about me. How was your day?”

“It was good. I’ve got a lot of great prospects for new investments. I plan on going over them tomorrow before my step-mother’s birthday party.” I told her about the party that I was helping my father plan. The waitress brought her double by as I talked.

“How are Mr. Davenport and his newest bride doing?” She smiled knowingly. I watched her full lips as they sucked on her straw.

“Good, I guess. I don’t go around too often. She won’t last.” I tore into the last piece of our flatbread, offering half in her direction.

“No, thanks. How can you be so sure she won’t last?” She asked skeptically.

“None of them have so far.” I shrugged, as I took another sip of my scotch. I savored the burn as it rolled down my throat.

“Funny how even after eight marriages, your father still believes he’ll find the one. Besides, you might have a different view of things if your mom was still around. They might still be together.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. I just think he doesn’t like to be alone. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Plus, he likes to always have a beautiful woman on his arm. He thinks it makes him look even better. I can’t say that I blame him there.”

“Well, he is a hottie for a silver fox. Maybe, someday, one of these women will be after him for the company he can provide and not simply for his wallet.” She continued to suck her vodka cranberry through her straw until it made slurping noises from being empty.

“Doubtful. Wait, did you just say my father was a hottie?” I looked at her quizzically. “You having geriatric fantasies, now?”

“Not in the least,” she laughed. “But your father is a hottie. He’s where you get your good looks from. Enough about your dad and all of his failed relationships. My couple from today, what they have is the real deal. They were so in love. You could see it. It wasn’t imaginary.” She sighed happily lost in her own thoughts about the couple she photographed. I just shook my head. The waitress happened by again and Gemma ordered another double. “You ready now?” She nodded in my direction.

“Sure.” My glass was nearly empty. “What do you have planned for tomorrow? Wanna come to the party with me? I could use a friend by my side.”

“Uh-uh. You’re not roping me into spending the night with a bunch of people who will look down their noses at me and my imperfections. I know I’m not the typical, plastic surgery, filler-injected, woman that will be there. I don’t want to deal with all the judgy bitches that I’m certain run with her crowd.”

There was literally nothing anyone could judge about Gemma’s looks. She definitely didn’t need any plastic surgery, but I knew which buttons to push to get her to agree to come. “Who’s the one sitting here judging my step-mother’s friends. Plus, you might actually have fun. There’s gonna be Cristal flowing, good food and lots of dancing.” I smiled and cocked my head to the side.

“Do you really need a date? What about Mila?” She sighed, and I smirked as I saw her bending already.

“I can’t take Mila. She’ll require too much attention. What Mila and I have is completely casual and to be honest, I don’t care to introduce her to my father. Father has known you forever, and he loves you.”

“Fine, I’ll go with you,” she conceded. “But you owe me. And don’t think I’ll forget. What should I wear?”

“A dress.” Something I can slide up over your hips and fuck you up against the side of the mansion in. She was my best friend, but I still couldn’t stop the filthy thoughts from flitting through my head, especially once alcohol was flowing through my veins. The waitress returned with our refills, silently placed them before us and took our empty glasses away.

“Ok, I’m sure I’ll find something that’ll work.”

Time to switch the conversation back strictly to the friend zone. “So, what exactly did you need a male point of view on?”