Page 71 of Fletch
“Pres called church last night, said you were in love with Gemma.”
“He did what?” I snap, pissed he went behind my back.
“Relax. He wanted to make sure we were all okay with it.”
It piques my interest. “And were you all okay?”
He laughs again. “You know no one goes against the Pres, brother. He laid your case out, and he’s right, she didn’t get nothing on the club and there’s history between you. You got a kid, so we gotta accept your decision.”
“Thanks, man, I needed to hear that.”
“Plus, I get to keep all the women to myself now.”
Gemma
Karen smiles, but it’s not her usual bright smile. It’s an awkward sort, like she doesn’t know what to say to me. And beside her is my father.
“I imagine this is as awkward for you as it is for us,” Karen says. “So, basically, we would like to make you a deal.”
I sit straighter. “Hand in your notice with immediate effect,” my father cuts in, “and there will be no investigation.”
I suspected he’d want this brushed under the carpet without the scandal tainting his reputation. “Just like that?”
“Yes, Gemma,” he says sternly. “Do you really want the entire team dragged through a hearing? They’ll ask all kinds of questions that will paint you in a very bad light.”
“I thought you’d at least offer me a transfer,” I spit.
He laughs, and it’s cold and empty. “You’re lucky this isn’t going further.”
“You mean you are,” I snap, pushing to stand. “This is what you’ve wanted all along, for me to leave the force.”
“Let’s just calm down,” whispers Karen. “This is the best way to deal with it, Gemma. If we have to take this public, it will look bad on all of us, you included. You’re a fantastic officer, and we’ll be sad to see you go. I expect your resignation by the end of the day.”
I roll my eyes, pulling out the letter I’d already written because I knew this would be how it would end. I slam it on the table and leave.
My father catches me in the hall. “Gemma,” he hisses until I stop and turn to face him. He glances around nervously. “This is about protecting us both. It’s not personal.”
“Bullshit. I’ve done what you’ve asked. Now, I want something from you. I want you to legally sign Ruby over to me.”
“What?”
“You heard. She’s my daughter. I want to be on her birth certificate.”
“Gemma, that’s impossible. We lied. We can’t just change it.”
“Find a way.”
Fletch
Gemma steps into the kitchen and stares at me. “I thought I asked you to leave.”
“I told you I’m staying until you’re well again.”
She dumps her bag on the side and kicks off her heels. “I lost my job today,” she tells me, heading to the fridge. I watch in silence as she pulls out a bottle of white wine then goes to the cupboard and pulls out a large glass. “Years of hard work gone because I made a stupid mistake with you . . . again.”
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
She unscrews the cap and pours the wine until the glass is almost overflowing, then she slams the bottle down and takes a few large gulps. “That’s it?” she asks. “You’re sorry?”