Page 154 of Better When Shared
Relief flooded through me so intensely I felt dizzy. "So we figure it out," I said, the words coming out with more conviction than I felt. "We make it work somehow."
"How?" Enzo asked, though he was already relaxing under our combined attention. "I mean, practically speaking. You've got your accounting practice, Gemma's got her hotel empire. I've got... well, I've got nothing tying me down, but that's not a foundation for a relationship."
Gemma's hand found mine where it rested on Enzo's back, her fingers intertwining with mine. "We have time to figure it out," she said. "And I… I mean, I’m not sure what I’m suggesting here, but I have the resources to make sure you’re both cared for while we decide what this looks like.”
"What do you want it to look like?" I asked, genuinely curious. The old Brian would have been terrified of her answer, would have been preparing excuses and exit strategies. But the man I was becoming—the man these two incredible people had helped me discover—wanted to know. Wanted to plan. Wanted to build something real.
"I want us," she said. "All of us. However we can make that work. Though preferably, somewhere in Bath.”
Chapter 17
Gemma
Casablanca, Morocco
The more I enjoyed Enzo and Brian, the faster our time on the boat went. In Heraklion, Crete, the vibrant energy of the city wrapped around us like a warm embrace. We wandered through the labyrinthine alleys of the old town, while Brian lectured us on the Venetian and Ottoman influences.
We saw a beautiful mosque in Turkey, and in Egypt, we stopped to explore Alexandria, I was captivated by the city's rich history and stunning architecture. As we wandered the grand corridors of the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, the atmosphere felt almost magical. Amidst the towering columns, Brian pulled Enzo and me into a quiet alcove, where a stolen kiss felt like a secret shared only with the ancient city itself.
In Tunis, we escaped the lively bustle of the city for the serene beauty of its beaches. The soft, golden sands stretched out beforeus, kissed by the gentle waves of the Mediterranean, and we shared a private moment, splashing and kissing in the warm water.
Casablanca was one of our last stops, and one of my favorites. The maze of Casablanca's old medina assaulted my senses in the most delicious way—leather and spices and that particular dusty sweetness of North African air that made me think of adventure novels and forbidden romance. I walked between Brian and Enzo through narrow passages barely wide enough for three people, my shoulders brushing against ancient stone walls that had witnessed centuries of secrets. The morning sun filtered through fabric canopies stretched overhead, casting everything in amber light that made Enzo's skin look like molten bronze and caught the silver threads in Brian's hair.
"The Hassan II Mosque we passed earlier was completed in 1993." Brian was speaking in that professor tone that made me want to do wonderfully inappropriate things to him. Why was his geeking out so sexy? "It's the third-largest mosque in the world, with a minaret that's over five hundred feet tall."
I found myself studying his profile as he spoke, noting the way his eyes lit up when he shared knowledge, the precise way he gestured with his hands.
"Fascinating," Enzo said with good-natured sarcasm, though his grin took any sting out of the words, as did the kiss he planted on Brian’s cheek.
My phone buzzed against my hip, and I felt that familiar spike of anxiety that had become my constant companion over the past few years. The rational part of my mind knew it was probably nothing urgent—the hotel group's various crises could usually wait a few hours. But my body reacted anyway, muscles tensing as I pulled the device from my bag.
Three missed calls from Andrew Morrison, my COO. Five text messages, each one more urgent than the last. My stomach dropped as I scanned the preview text: "London property crisis. Contractors walked off the job. Need to discuss immediately—"
"Shit," I breathed, then louder, "Excuse me, I need to take this."
Brian looked up from where he'd been examining a display of traditional ceramics, his blue eyes immediately alert to my distress. "Everything okay?"
"Work emergency. I'll be a minute." The words came out clipped and professional, my CEO voice automatically engaging as I stepped away from the stall.
But even as I moved to a quieter corner of the market, putting distance between myself and the men who'd become my entire world, I could feel the familiar transformation beginning. My spine straightened, my shoulders squared, and the warm, sensual woman who'd been exploring Morocco with her lovers disappeared, replaced by the sharp-edged executive who'd built an empire from inherited property.
I hit Andrew's number and he answered on the first ring.
"Gemma, thank God. We have a situation."
"Talk to me," I said, my voice taking on the cool authority that had cowed shareholders and intimidated competitors for years. I began pacing, my designer flats clicking against the uneven stones as my mind shifted into crisis management mode.
"The renovation contractors at the London property walked off the job this morning. Something about delayed payments and contract disputes. The entire project is dead in the water, and we've got the soft opening scheduled for next month."
I felt the familiar surge of adrenaline that came with a genuine crisis, my analytical mind immediately sorting through solutions and contingencies. "What's the real issue? Are we actually behind on payments?"
"No, but there's some confusion about the change orders from last week. The project manager is claiming we approved modifications that weren't in the original scope, and now they want an additional two hundred thousand pounds before they'll continue."
My free hand clenched into a fist, and I found myself gesturing emphatically despite being on a phone call. "I reviewed every change order personally, and nothing was approved outside the original budget parameters."
"I know, but they're claiming they have documentation. I've got the legal team reviewing the contracts, but in the meantime, we're hemorrhaging money every day the project sits idle."
I closed my eyes, mentally reviewing the project timeline and budget constraints.
