Page 62 of Tru Blue
“Gemma Wright, what are you thinking? If you don’t tell her, she’ll fix you up with another one of those uptight pricks like she did last time, and I don’t think Tru Blue is going to be cool with that.”
Sighing, Gemma dropped her shoulders in defeat. “It’s on my to-do list, but you know what conversations with my mother are like.” She didn’t even want to think about her mother. She was happy. Really, truly happy, and her mother had a way of squashing the happiness of everyone around her. Besides, she had enough on her mind. Truman still hadn’t heard from Quincy, and even though he didn’t talk about it, she knew he was worried about him.
“I know, and when she tells you you’re dating him as part of your ongoing rebellion—like your business, and moving away, yadda, yadda, yadda—tell her to shove it up her ass. Because I’ve seen you with Truman, and you’ve never looked at a man that way.”
She was glad Crystal saw how much she cared for Truman, and she had a point about her mother. She probably would accuse her of dating Truman to spite her. But the truth was, even though Gemma had thought about her mother’s reaction, her mother’s opinion did not factor into Gemma’s decision to be with Truman. What Gemma saw in Truman were all the qualities her mother could never see even if he were a suit-wearing billionaire. How could her mother recognize intense loyalty that knew no boundaries, love that came directly from the heart, and a firm grasp on doing things for the right reasons, when she didn’t possess those qualities herself?
Crystal looped her arm through Gemma’s and dragged her out of the store. “Come on. We’re going to Pleasant Hill.” Pleasant Hill was about an hour away.
“What? Why?” She walked fast, keeping pace with Crystal as they crossed the parking lot.
“Because you are going to have to tell her, which means you’ll have to listen to all of her socialite news about people you don’t know or care about and probably a diatribe about dating a man from the wrong side of the tracks. She’ll have you tearing your hair out in no time.” She climbed into the car and slid a coy smile to Gemma. “If she can torture you, it’s only fair to give her a little payback. We’re going to Jillian’s.”
Jillian’s was an upscale and slightly outlandish dress shop. “A payback dress. Oh, Crystal. You are brilliant.”
Two hours later Gemma stood before a three-way mirror wearing a floor-length black leather gown with a plunging neckline that dipped almost to her navel.
Jillian Braden, the owner of the shop and designer of many of the gowns, moved in her four-inch heels as if she’d been born in them. She tucked her hair—a spectacular cross between burgundy and dark auburn—behind her ear and walked in a slow circle around Gemma. “You have a great figure, and your face is so refined and classic looking that it gives you an elegant and sweet vixenish quality that not many women can pull off. You’re killing it.” She adjusted the shoulder straps, then smoothed a wrinkle at Gemma’s waist.
“She’s right, Gem,” Crystal agreed. “But don’t let Truman see you in it, because it’ll be shredded before you ever step foot outdoors.”
Gemma’s stomach quivered at the thought of Truman’s hands all over her. She turned to the side, admiring the way the leather hugged her curves, making her feel sultry and alluring—and her stomach knotted. She wanted to be sultry and alluring for Truman, but the idea of wearing that dress out in public without him by her side made her feel uneasy. Plus, she might give her mother a heart attack if she showed up in it. As much as she disliked her mother, she didn’t want to ruin her event.
“My mother would totally flip out if I showed up in leather.”
“Isn’t that the point?” Crystal smirked.
“I don’t know. It’s a fun idea, but the more I think about it, the more I worry that it’ll end up backfiring and the night will be even more painful. I think I need less vixen and more refined rebellion.”
Jillian guided Gemma by the arm toward the dressing room. “If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that a woman should never wear a dress she’s not totally comfortable in. No matter what the reason.” She gave Gemma a little shove through the curtain. “Take that off. I’ve got the dress for you.”
