Chapter One
Gemma
“I’m sorry, what did you say? Where are you? Kansas? As in Dorothy and Toto? That Kansas?” Benjamin’s string of questions came in his signature style—rapid-fire. “What happened to West Virginia?”
“I was in West Virginia,” I said into the phone. “Now I’m in Kansas.”
“B-but why?”
I didn’t need to see his face to know it was agape with shock. For too long, Benjamin had tracked my every move. He’d stood by my side as I’d created my empire and had executed my directives with precision. The rigidity of my schedule wasn’t just for my benefit. He’d managed it flawlessly for the past six years.
This trip of mine was going to freak him way the hell out.
“I have something important to tell you.”
“No.” He groaned. “I’m still dealing with the mess you left me the last time you had something important to tell me.”
“Sorry.” I hadn’t meant to shake up his world. But since I’d completely torpedoed mine, changes to his were inevitable.
Three weeks ago, I’d called Benjamin into my office and told him that I was no longer the CEO of Gemma Lane. That I’d sold my beloved cosmetics company and namesake to Procter & Gamble. The monster corporation had purchased my brand and skin care formulas for the bargain price of twelve million dollars.
The sale had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. I didn’t make those, not anymore. And ever since, I’d been waiting for a ping of regret. It hadn’t hit me yet.
Instead, I’d felt free.
Selling Gemma Lane had been the first spontaneous decision I’d made in years. The floodgates were open now and these past three weeks had seen countless decisions made entirely with personal motivations.
For eleven years, I’d given every shred of my concentration and energy to my businesses. I’d worked my ass off to make sure I’d never be poor or homeless or hungry again. I’d lived my life with extreme control, shutting out any added emotion that wouldn’t increase my bottom line.
Then I’d just . . . walked away.
All because of a pasta and breadsticks lunch with a former colleague.
I’d gotten a random phone call from my friend Julie. She’d worked with me selling real estate years before and we’d loosely kept in touch over the years. Neither of us had stayed in real estate, and while I’d chosen to create my own company, she’d worked her way up the executive ranks at Procter & Gamble.
We’d met for lunch to celebrate her recent promotion. And she’d asked me, point-blank, if I’d ever sell Gemma Lane. The word yes came from nowhere, shocking us both. We’d negotiated over the meal and Julie had taken my bottom-line number to her superiors.
Five hours later, I had the legal agreement in my inbox.
My life had flown out the window, like a ream of paper being tossed from my fourteenth-floor office on a windy day. Benjamin had been trying to catch the pages and stack them neatly again, except I just kept tossing more.
“I’m taking some time away,” I told him.
“In West Virginia. You’re supposed to be in West Virginia visiting Londyn. Wait, what’s that noise? Are you driving?”
“Yes. About that . . .” My best friend Londyn was the reason I was in this car. “I was in West Virginia visiting Londyn. But remember last year when I told you she was taking her Cadillac and driving it to California?”
“I do. Except she met Brooks in West Virginia and married him. What does this—” Benjamin stopped. He was a brilliant man and normally our conversations went this way—I’d start explaining and he’d jump to the end before I could finish my story. “No. Tell me you’re not taking this car to California yourself.”
“I’m taking the car to California myself.”
“Are you serious? You’re driving from West Virginia to California? Alone?”
“Yes, yes and yes.” I held my breath as the line went silent.
“You really have lost your goddamn mind.”
I laughed. “You’re not wrong.”
“Gemma, what is going on with you?” The concern in his voice tugged at my heart. “Is this a you-turned-thirty-this-year crisis? Should I call Dr. Brewer?”
“No.” I didn’t need my therapist getting involved. Dr. Brewer would dredge up the past, and my childhood was the last thing I wanted to discuss at the moment. “It was just time for a change.”
“A change? This is not a change. This is a nuclear explosion. You sold the company. Your baby. Gemma Lane was your life. You were there from five in the morning until eight at night every single day. Now it’s gone.”
I nodded, waiting for him to continue. This wasn’t the first time he’d reminded me of exactly what I’d done. Yet, I still didn’t feel like I’d made a huge mistake.
“Two weeks ago, you handed me an entirely new list of job duties, including managing all your assets and capital ventures while you disappeared to West Virginia. Now you’re driving to California? This isn’t you.”
“But it used to be,” I said.
I used to be impulsive and adventurous. Money and success were to blame for the caution that had invaded my life. A month ago, I’d had hundreds of employees counting on me to make the right decisions. They’d needed me to take care with my actions to ensure they had jobs. In worrying about them—for hours, days, years—I’d lost myself.
Now those employees would be working for Procter & Gamble. It had been part of my agreement that every one of my employees had future employment. Except for Benjamin. He’d always worked for me personally.
“I need this,” I confessed. “I used to be fun. I used to be daring and reckless. You wouldn’t even recognize that version of me.”
Benjamin had only known the Gemma consumed by work. He didn’t recognize me without the meetings, conference calls and galas. He didn’t see that the charity balls I used to love—the ones where I’d smile as I sipped champagne because Boston’s elite had let a lowly, runaway kid into their midst—were now suffocating and dull.
“Where is this coming from?” Benjamin asked. “I’m not buying this ‘I needed a change’ explanation. Something happened and you haven’t told me.”
Yes, something had happened, and I hadn’t told anyone, not even Londyn. “Remember Jason Jensen?”
“The guy who used to work in marketing?”
“Yes. He asked me to marry him.”
“What?” he shouted, the volume making me wince. “When? How long were you dating? How did I not know about this?”
“We dated for a few months. Obviously, we didn’t tell anyone because I was his boss’s boss. We agreed to keep it quiet, and I didn’t think we were serious. But then one night about a month ago, he took me to this fancy restaurant, got down on one knee and proposed.”
“Oh, Gemma. I’m sorry.” As always, Benjamin jumped to the end of my story.
“Don’t pity me. Pity Jason. He was sweet and handsome and kind. But I just . . . I couldn’t say yes. I didn’t love him.”