“Who do you suppose he is?” Holly Porter sneered with a roll of her eyes as she sipped her champagne.

From a very young age the Porter girls had learned that at benefit dinners like these there was always someone watching and to point at the subject of ones discussion or stare pointedly was a recipe for gossip at best. There were other ways to communicate. It was only because of their many years of practice that Gemma caught the subtle tilt of Holly’s head and the dart of her eyes towards the archway to the left.

Gemma’s eyes followed Holly’s and found the source of her question. The man was leaning easily against one side of an archway, his legs crossed at the ankle, and was surrounded by practically half a dozen giggling women. Gemma scoffed to herself before turning to her sister and shrugging her shoulders.

“I have no idea, Holly. Maybe you sh-”

Laughter. Gemma’s head whipped back to the man in the archway and took him in once more. She watched as his head tipped back in laughter and a gasp slipped from her throat, how could she not have noticed before? The angle of the shoulders, the way he held his glass of liquor – it had to be jack – and dear God, his laugh. His head was shaved the last time she saw him, but that shouldn’t count as an excuse, Gemma once knew those curls backwards and forwards.

The quick thrust of Holly’s champagne glass into her hand pulled Gemma out of her thoughts and she could do nothing but watch with weak knees as her sister walked up to the man she once loved and tapped on his shoulder. It was loud at the venue, but Gemma swore she could hear her heart pound when he turned around to face her sister.

“Hi,” She gave him a smile and pushed a bit of her auburn hair over her shoulder. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Holly Porter.”

Gemma held her breath, waiting for the recognition of their shared last name to show on his face, for his eyes to miraculously find hers in contempt and spite, but instead of cold acknowledgment he returned Holly’s smile and offered his hand.

“You’re right, I don’t think we have met,” He cocked his head to the side with a smile, “Ever. I’m Justin Timberlake,” He said and shook her hand firmly.

There was no doubting now that it really was him, returning to their hometown after five years. As Justin chatted good-naturedly with her sister, Gemma’s eyes roved over him, taking in the light stubble across his neck and chin and his glasses perched on that adorably curved nose. Even from across the large living room Gemma could hear Holly’s voice clearly, “Are you new to town?” Holly questioned, “I definitely would have noticed you before.”

Great, Gemma thought, she’s flirting.

Justin, ever the charmer, chose not to disagree with Holly’s assumption. “Yeah,” He nodded, “I’m fairly new here, and I know we haven’t met before. It would be impossible for me to forget someone with such a beautiful name.”

Holly preened. “If you want to meet some other people my sister’s here too.”

Gemma’s hand fisted in the side of her dress. No. There was no way in hell she was seeing him tonight. No. Gemma bolted from her place near their table, leaving both champagne glasses on top of an empty dinner plate, and headed for the exit. She was not seeing him tonight.

Holly turned away from Justin to wave Gemma over only to find she had disappeared. “Hm,” Holly pouted, “She’s not there anymore.”

“I’m sure I’ll meet her some other time,” Justin supplied with a wink.

Holly grinned and nodded her head in agreement, “I’m sure. So, Justin, what brings you to this party?”

----

Gemma turned to the bathroom mirror and locked the door from behind. No, no, no no no, this couldn’t be happening. He left. He had left five years ago. Bracing herself against the counter top Gemma turned the faucet on and plunged her hands under the icy stream, more to block out the thoughts in her head than to clean. Why was he back? Why was he here, at this party? Would he recognize her? Gemma scoffed and turned the water off a little too forcefully. Of course he would recognize her, she really hadn’t changed that much. Her eyes were still blue, her hair still long, straight, and brown. She really hadn’t changed at all.

“Now what?” She asked her reflection.

Should she stay here until the party is surely over? “No,” she whispered as she checked the clock on her phone, “That will be hours from now.”

Should she try to sneak out the back? “Yes!” Gemma decided that was perfect. “No,” she decided a split second later, she had valet parked tonight.

With a final sigh and a glance at her reflection in the mirror Gemma knew there was only one way out. Through the front door. It wouldn’t be that hard, she rationalized, there had to be at least a hundred people at the party tonight, all mingling between the round, linen covered tables that were set up in the dining hall. All she had to do was make it from the bathroom to the valet without being seen by Justin or her sister and she would be home free. Easy. She took another deep breath and opened the bathroom door cautiously, searching the many people milling about for either Justin or Holly with no sign of either of them. Gemma grinned, today, luck was on her side.

Not ten steps away from the bathroom door she heard the familiar tenor that could only belong to one Justin Timberlake.

“Gems!” He raved, “Is that you?”

She froze. Taking one last wistful glance at the open front door she turned to face him, bracing herself. For what, she wasn’t sure.

“Wow, it’s been way too long!” He was about five feet away and from where she stood he looked ecstatic to see her. With a grin he waved her over and kept talking. “Like what, five years?” His mouth turned up in a wide smile, but as she approached Gemma could see his eyes were steely, daring her to question him.

She reached out and splayed her right palm against the round table next to her. She needed something to lean on. Was this really happening? Justin opened his arms wide to hug her and sooner than she was prepared his scent surrounded her. Instinctively Gemma tensed her body as his arms found their way around her shoulders and back, it wasn’t an intimate hug by any means, but his proximity coupled with the familiar scent of his aftershave mixed with fabric softener was too much. She had to get away. With a tactful push to the chest meant to look like the helpful adjustment of his lapel she found a way to escape his embrace.

Gemma cleared her throat, “Yeah,” She gave an awkward chuckle, “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Man,” he gave a whistful smile, “I almost didn’t recognize you!”

Gemma observed him suspiciously and fought not to roll her eyes, what did he mean by that? She looked exactly the same as she did when she last saw him. Her hair was a little longer, but still the same color, she hadn’t gained or lost any weight, what was he getting at? Should she have looked different? Was he calling her boring? These are stupid questions her mind screamed.

“A lot can change in five years, huh?” She challenged. Her blue eyes connecting with his as she arched a brow.

Justin adjusted the button on his tux, looking more like the man she knew from the past, his blue-grey eyes going from jovial to…to something else in an instant.

“But some things stay the same,” He stated.

Together they held eye contact for what could have possibly been too long to be appropriate for long-lost acquaintances, but there was something in his eyes that made Gemma not want to look away. Something familiar. Something she couldn’t put her finger on.  

Hope? Was it hope in his eyes? She wondered. He looked away. Yes, yes it was. She was certain.

“I’ve got an early morning tomorrow,” Justin started, rubbing the back of his neck restlessly, “I really should be heading home. It was great to see you again Gemma. Breanna.” He nodded at a girl to the left, who up until then had gone completely unnoticed by Gemma. The girl whose name was apparently Breanna smiled at Justin and gave a cold glare to Gemma before walking off in the opposite direction.

As abruptly as their conversation started, it was over, leaving Gemma standing rooted in her place, fighting for the control of her breath and watching Justin make his way through the crowd. Moments passed and when she saw Justin finally make his way through the front doors she felt she was able to move again.

“A lot can change in five years,” she murmured to herself one more time before she held out her left hand and watched as her engagement ring glittered up at her happily, proudly. Its glint from the lights above shone in her eyes and forced them away from the offending stone.

Suddenly nauseous, Gemma made the quick and easy conclusion that her night had been eventful enough and it was time for her to leave. Without looking for or saying goodbye to her sister, and luckily, with no interference from her position in the hall to the valet station Gemma managed to get to her car and began her journey home.

It was late, he should have been sleeping, but after seeing Gemma for the first time in half a decade his brain couldn't slow down, he couldn't stop remembering. So instead of enjoying the comforts of Trace's living room couch, Justin had made camp in the laundry room, turning it into a makeshift dark room. Going to the campaign party at the Hyatt Regency in Sacramento hadn't been Justin's idea of a good time on a Friday night, but he had promised Trace that he would take pictures of the event, in exchange for being able to crash on his couch. Trace worked for a local Sacramento newspaper and having Justin photograph the event had saved both time and money, as well as allowed Justin a chance to scout for potential clients.

The quiet sloshing of the liquid pulled Justin's attention back to his photos, the picture was nearly done. As he stopped agitating the solution, the waves of developer calmed allowing him to see the photo clearly. It was of the stage and the crowd, the backs of heads and profiles of faces, but there was one face in the crowd that stood out immediately. Gemma and her sister stood in the corner of the photo, barely making it into the frame. Gemma was leaning to the left, craning her neck to listen closely to whatever Holly had been saying.

Justin slipped the photo into the stop and chuckled. Holly was certainly an interesting girl, and almost the complete opposite of Gemma. But as soon as Justin laid eyes on Holly as she tapped on his shoulder he knew who she was. If a random bystander were to look at Gemma and Holly next to each other it wouldn't be surprising if they believed them to be nothing more than good friends, but Justin knew better. Holly's eyes may have been brown instead of blue like Gemma's, but the arch of their eyebrows and the curl of their lashes were identical. Gemma may be a shade paler than Holly, but Justin had seen pictures and knew they both freckled across their noses after a day of too much sun. Luckily, he had been able to control his expression as she held her hand out for him to shake. He feigned polite interest as she explained who she was and preceded to strike up a conversation. Nothing about the exchange really grabbed his attention until she asked him a question he had been asked many times before, but never had he dreamed he would hear it from her.

----

"So, Justin, what brings you to this party?" Holly asked with a smile that could have been a clone of Gemma's.

Justin pulled his camera that had been resting over his shoulder forward. "My friend Trace is in charge of covering the campaign for the newspaper and he's decided that in order for me to sleep on his couch payment-free I've got to photograph it."

"Oh, so you're a photographer?" Holly questioned as she bounced on her heels reached for his camera.

He twisted so she couldn't reach it, "Yeah, freelance. Mostly, I shoot weddings, though."

Holly clasped her hands together at her chest, "Weddings!" She exclaimed, "How long are you going to be in the area?"

Deciding Holly was no longer a threat to his camera he turned back to fully face her, "I'm not really sure yet," he started, rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly, "I was sort of hoping to find some clients while I'm here. Trace suggested I start to expand a little from New York."

"That is absolutely," Holly paused long enough for a huge grin to spread across her face, "Perfect!" She stated, suddenly serious. "My sister, Gemma, is getting married and we haven't found a wedding photographer yet! Being Maid of Honor is such a tough job! You have no idea how much stress is off my back now. All because of you!"

Justin's brain had stopped comprehending at the word 'married'. Married. To whom he wanted to ask. When? Why? Who was he? Was he good enough for her?

Holly's cool hand on his forearm drew his attention away from his panicked thoughts, "This is so great Justin, I'm sure you're fantastic, I can just tell." She stopped to give him a quick smile and fluttered her eyelashes. "Gemma will be ecstatic! Here, give me your number and I'll call you with her availability and you guys can meet and discuss everything! Oh my god, she's going to love you!"

On autopilot Justin recited his number and watched dumbly as she programed the digits into her phone, sealing his fate.

"Fabulous!" Holly declared. "Well, it was so wonderful meeting you, Justin, but I should go find my sister and tell her the good news."

Still hazy, Justin nodded and gave a slight smile as Holly walked off and promptly disappeared into the crowd. Not five minutes after Holly left, and two minutes after a girl named Breanna approached him, Justin spotted Gemma. She left the hallway leading to the bathrooms, looking frantically from left to right, clearly attempting to make her escape.

Does she know I'm here? Justin wondered as a bitter pang shot through him at the look on her face. Was she really that disappointed to see him? Did she think he did this on purpose? Did she think he knew she'd be here? As abruptly as his disappointment in the news of her engagement came it dissipated, only to be replaced by a feeling that, in retrospect, Justin found a little unnerving. He was suddenly irritated, irritated that she was so concerned with being in his presence that she decided to try and avoid him completely, and irritated at his own reaction when hearing about her engagement. It had been five years, surely that was enough time to heal whatever wounds she had left him with.

Acting purely on instinct, Justin did what he had been longing to do the moment Holly touched his shoulder.

"Gems!"

----

Justin sighed and pulled the newly cropped photo out of the fix. The memory of the last time he had seen Gemma, before this evening, had been replaying in his head since leaving the party. The last time they had been together had been in Napa, a place they had only visited twice, once in the beginning and once in the end. The first time they went had been his idea and completely on a whim. They had been dating for about a month and were in her dorm room on a Tuesday in late September. Gemma had been complaining about how much she was tired of school, even though it had just started.

Justin hopped off her bed, "Pack an overnight bag and meet me outside in fifteen minutes."

Gemma sat up on her elbows, observing him gathering his things but not speaking until Justin was halfway out the door, "Do I need warm clothes?"

"Bring a sweater." Was all Justin said before shutting the door behind him.

Justin recalled the two-hour drive from the Stanford campus to Napa. During the first hour it had been a little awkward, alternating between fiddling with the radio, genuine conversation, and silence. He held her hand in his lap and she told him he had a good singing voice when a Coldplay song came on the radio.

When they left the campus Justin hadn't been sure where they were headed, but when the exit for I-5 came into view a plan formed in his head. So he drove north, following the highway signs and enjoying the weight and warmth of Gemma's hand against his thigh.

Gemma lifted her hand from his leg and held her stomach in an attempt to hide the sound of a growl.

Justin glanced at the clock in his car, it was a little past seven, and they had only been driving for about an hour. "Do you want to stop somewhere to eat or just wait until we get where we're going?"

Gemma hummed softly in thought and sat up to face him, pressing her left shoulder into the back of the seat. "I don't know, how long are we going to be driving?"

"Just another hour, about." Justin said as he took a quick look at Gemma as she pulled her legs onto the seat and tucked them under her body.

"Oh, well, then I think I can wait." Gemma answered, giving Justin a brief smile before focusing her attention on his CD collection.

"Gemma, if you're hungry we can stop and eat. I'm not in a hurry and you shouldn't be, either."

She shuffled through his CDs, most of them haphazardly tossed into his glove compartment, and didn't answer until the sounds of John Mayer's Room For Squares filled the car.

"No, no, no." She smiled up at him again. "I'm fine, I can wait. Really." She added.

"Okay." Justin accepted with a shrug. "But, you know, if you want something, it's okay to say so. You didn't even ask if I was hungry."

Gemma laughed. "Alright, I'll keep that in mind." She paused and glanced out the window at the highway sign alerting drivers to a random diner open at the next exit. "Well, are you hungry?"

Justin flipped on his right blinker and flashed her a grin as he headed for the first exit ramp he saw. "I happen to be starving."

By the time they got to Napa it was well past dinnertime and around thirty miles out of town it became blatantly obvious where they were headed. There were rolling hills in all directions, and even in the semi-darkness the seemingly endless rows of grapes at each vineyard were staggering.

"You know," Gemma started, her head turned away from Justin as she watched the rows of grapes speed by. "I've lived in California my entire life, and I've never been here."

"A Napa Valley virgin!" Justin exclaimed with a chuckle. "It's beautiful this time of year, all the crops are getting harvested, the food will never taste fresher than it does now."

It had started to lightly rain, more of a mist than anything, making the street lights glow as Justin switched the windshield wipers on.

Gemma continued to stare out the window. "But I'm glad my first time here is with you."

Justin didn't take his eyes off the road but reached over and let his hand slide down the back of Gemma's head, following the strands of her brown hair past her neck and over her shoulder.  He played with the ends idly, humming softly, to himself more than anyone, and after a few minutes pulled into a well-lit parking lot.

"We're here." He declared as his hand dropped her hair and pressed the release button on her seatbelt for her.

They got out of the car and stood in front of a large, blue, Victorian era house. It seemed pretty busy, most of the windows were glowing with the lights turned on inside. Justin could still see people passing from window to window downstairs and the blue light of televisions upstairs flipping from channel to channel.

"Where is here?" Gemma asked.

"A bed and breakfast." Justin responded before taking her hand and leading her inside.

----

Their first trip to Napa had set the tone for most of their relationship: calm, romantic, and shockingly refreshing. Justin was just twenty-three when they started dating and if he was honest, even in the beginning he knew it could be the start of something unlike any relationship he had ever been in before. He never would have imagined, after that first trip to Napa, that they would have ended up the way they had.

Justin stood up from his place on the linoleum floor, his knees popping loudly as he raised his arms above his head to stretch. Two knocks sounded and Trace's muffled voice filtered through the closed laundry room door.

 "Justin, you in there? Can I come in?"

Stepping over the plastic containers of different solutions Justin flipped on the normal lights and opened the door for Trace to come inside. As he entered Trace pulled the lined sheet of notebook paper off the door, "'Do not enter'? Really, Justin, how old are you?"

Justin yanked the paper out of Trace's hand and crumpled it into a ball. "If you wanted to fuck up the pictures for your article, I could have left it off. They're finished by the way. The negatives are on the dryer." He waved vaguely behind him before walking into the hallway.

Trace shook his head as the laundry room door slammed behind Justin, wondering what had gotten his friend in such a bad mood.  He stepped forward. The photos were hanging from string, fastened on with clothespins. Leftover fix dripped onto sheets of newspaper draped casually across the top of his washer and dryer. Trace stepped closer to examine each photo starting with the most recently developed. They were good, nice use of contrast, interesting composition, and leading lines which made the eye fall exactly where Justin wanted them to. They were really good. Trace wasnÕt a photographer, but working for a newspaper had given him the opportunity to see more than enough subpar photography sent in by aspiring photographers trying to catch a break. He moved along, noting which ones would be appropriate for the article, and by the time he reached the final row Trace had almost forgotten Justin was angry. Almost. The third to last photo Trace saw had been cropped.  Instead of the entire crowd around the stage, it was just two girls, each looking remarkably similar but different all at the same time. The shorter of the two was leaning towards the other in conference, her auburn hair laying down her back, a smirk on her lips but her eyes on the stage. The taller girl was clearly older, listening, to whom Trace assumed was her sister, more out of obligation than actual interest. Her expression struck a chord of familiarity within in him, causing him to lean closer to the photo.  But it was more than her expression that caught TraceÕs eye. It was her long, straight, brown hair, the slope of her nose, the glint off her finger folded across her arms. Immediately, Trace understood. Quickly, he hopped over the photo chemicals, opened the laundry room door, and went to look for Justin.

He found his childhood friend sitting at the kitchen table, rolling an empty water bottle back and forth between his outstretched hands.

Trace cleared his throat. "Your photography has gotten really good, you know."

Justin's eyes didn't leave the water bottle when he asked. "Did you know she was going to be there?"

Trace took a breath and pulled out the chair next to Justin's, its legs grating loudly against the wood floor. "You really think I'd force you to come and take pictures at an event I knew Gemma Porter would be attending?"

"I don't know, would you?" Justin countered.

"No, J, I wouldn't! Jesus. What's wrong with you?"

Justin sighed and started to pick at the wrapper on the water bottle. "Gem's engaged, Trace."

When Trace made no sound of surprise or disbelief Justin looked up. "But you knew that though, didn't you?" He replied bitterly, sensing the reason behind the other man's silence.

"Yeah, I did." Trace confessed.

"Why didn't you call to let me know?"

"Justin, you haven't talked about Gemma in almost five years, why am I expected to tell you anything about her? And why do you even care?" Trace questioned.

He twisted off the cap and crushed the now paperless bottle in his hand. "I don't care." Justin pouted.

"Okay." Trace agreed, his voice void of emotion. "You don't care."

Their conversation seemed finished, but Trace knew better than to get up to leave, there was more coming, he was sure.

"Hey Trace?" Justin started picking at his cuticles. "Do you know the guy's name?"

Trace ran his palm down the front of his face and scratched at the stubble forming underneath his chin. "Yeah, I know his name."

A beat passed. "Well, what is it?" Justin demanded.

"I thought you didn't care." Trace countered.

"I don't." Justin insisted, stubbornly.

Trace chuckled. "Sure."

"Come on, Trace." Justin pleaded. "What's his name?"

"His name's Peter Anderson." Trace replied.

"What does he do?"

"I don't know." Trace groaned. "I think he works with Robert Porter."

"He works with Gemma's dad? Gemma's dad." Justin muttered.

Trace nodded his head. "But that's all I know, J. I honestly haven't talked to her since before you left. The only reason I knew she was even engaged was because we printed a little engagement announcement in the paper."

"Mmm." Justin murmured. "You know I ran into her sister last night, Holly?"

"No shit?" Trace asked with an interested chuckle.

Justin nodded. "And guess what she said?"

Trace groaned. "I can only imagine, but I doubt it was anything good."

"No." Justin shook his head. "Well, first she was flirting with me, which was all kinds of wrong, asked me what I did for a living, even tried to introduce me to her sister, but when she turned around Gemma was gone."

"Thank God." Trace grimaced but motioned for him to continue.

"She told me about her sister's engagement after that." Justin gave a bitter laugh, "This is the best part, Trace. Then she asked me if I could take Gemma's wedding photos."

"Fuck that! You're not taking her photos! You told Holly that, right? What was your excuse?" Trace questioned.

"Nah, man. Holly's going to call me later today to set up an appointment to meet with Gemma to look through my portfolio and talk about pricing and stuff." Justin answered.

"J, you cannot take Gemma's wedding photos. That is too fucked up. That's sick. You can't do it, dude. Plus, you're meeting with Gemma? Just the two of you? Looking at wedding photos?!" Trace exclaimed.

Justin sighed. "Chill, man. I'm sure Pat or whatever his name is will be there, it's his wedding too."

Trace shook his head. "No, he won't be. Peter spends a little over half the year in DC. It'll just be you and Gemma."

"Whatever, man." Justin shrugged, nonchalantly. "It's just another job for me, I'm going to bring my portfolio, we'll talk about which package she wants, where they're planning on having it, whatever."

"I'm sure you'd love to ask her what package she's interested in." Trace joked.

Justin punched his arm and stood up from the table. "Shut the fuck up, Trace. I don't even care."

"Okay, man. Whatever you say." Trace replied.

"I don't care, Trace." Justin argued. "It's just a job."

"I know, dude, so you say."

"It's four in the morning. I'm going to bed."

Justin pushed in his chair and threw away his crushed water bottle before exiting the kitchen, flipping off the light, and leaving Trace in the dark.

Once in the living room Justin pulled the heavy quilt off the back of the couch and up to his chin. He kicked the armrest at his feet restlessly, this was, without a doubt, going to give him a horrible neck ache in the morning. Suddenly, Justin's phone vibrated against the wooden coffee table next to him causing him to jump as he reached to muffle the sound. It was an email from a potential client he met while shooting his last wedding in New York before flying back out to California.

Was as he really going to meet with Gemma? Alone? To talk about her wedding? Justin sighed. He wasn't prepared for this. He came back to California with one definite goal in mind: to expand his clientele and get his name out on the West Coast. Visiting his mom and catching up with Trace were just perks. But running into Gemma? That had been a brief concern that was dismissed as quickly as it came. And to be meeting up with her within the next few days? Never in his wildest dreams.

If she says yes to the meeting, anyway. His mind pestered. It had been a concern as soon as Holly walked away with his number to find her sister. What if she doesn't want to see me?

It's just another job. Clients have said no before, and they'll say no again. It's just another job. Justin thought before putting his phone on silent and tossing it to the floor.

 

---

Gemma woke up the next morning at the ungodly hour of 3:00 AM by the antique alarm clock Peter bought her on a whim while they visited Berkeley. She rolled over to find the other side of the bed already abandoned and the shadow of her fiancé randomly blocking out the light glowing from the slit at the bottom of the bathroom door. This morning Gemma had to drop Peter off at the airport for his almost five-week trip to DC. It was for work, she knew, but still…Gemma sighed and let her head fall back into the goose feathers of her pillow. Another month with Peter across the country. Was this going to be her life? Half a year sleeping in an empty bed, living in empty apartment? With an empty heart? Her mind whispered quickly, before she had time to censor her thoughts. Peter was a good man. He was. He was kind to her, he was honest, such a hard worker, and her parents loved him. But when he would come through the front door after a long day of work she felt no spark of excitement, no rush of desire, only the instinct to take his coat and ask him how work was. Gemma ignored the roll of panic and pressed the ends of her pillow tight to her ears, hoping, praying that it might help keep her thoughts at bay.

By the time Gemma had finished dropping off Peter at the airport and was on her way back home the sun had just begun to rise, burning away the morning fog. Without any conscious thought, Gemma drove, following her instinct from empty road to empty road, and eventually found herself in the parking lot of a local grocery store.

Gemma slipped her sunglasses onto her nose as she exited her car. The admittance that she was paranoid that Justin might be in the store was not on her agenda, but if she was honest, he did have something to do with the fact that she chose to keep her sunglasses on as she entered the store. She saw him one time, and all of a sudden she expected to see him everywhere. Kicking herself inwardly for not asking him where he was staying, Gemma grabbed a cart and began her grocery shopping.

Somewhere between the bakery and the dairy section Gemma realized in the shock of seeing Justin again she hadn’t given a thought as to why he was back again. Not a real, logically processed thought, anyway. Gemma reached for an Italian baguette and decided that she really had no idea why Justin was back, and that concerned her. Gemma remembered how she ran from him as soon as he turned in her direction and grumbled to herself softly.

“Apparently he makes you act like an idiot, too.” She murmured with a roll of her eyes.

Sure, it was possible that Justin could have come back to win her heart again, or he could be in California simply for business. What scared her the most though, was the unnatural rush of adrenaline she felt at the thought of him coming back for her. Was that really the way an engaged woman should behave? No. Gemma thought, guilt weighing heavy in her stomach.

She scoffed, disgusted at her own behavior, Peter was probably still on the tarmac and she was already pondering a life with Justin.

Throughout the past five years, Gemma could admit that she thought about him occasionally and may have Googled his name a few times out of curiosity. What she found told her he was a freelance photographer based in New York with quite the numerous and prominent clientele. The first time she found his website and a slideshow of his pictures graced the screen of her laptop it had been a little over a year since he disappeared. Gemma remembered the way her heart leapt as she clicked through his site and stumbled upon the two nine-digit numbers highlighted on his contact information page. After he left, within three days his number had been changed and Gemma had no way of contacting him, despite her best efforts to coerce Trace into giving it to her. His business phone and his cell were listed, for anyone. Anyone except her, she thought. It took everything in her to not instantly jump to the first phone she could find and call him. But what good would that do? Gemma didn’t change her number. If he wanted, Justin could have called her. He could have called her at any time. She had been waiting for his call. And that was all it took to quell her desire to call him again: the fear of change and the knowledge that he had her number and chose not to call.

She must have been on autopilot, because by the time Gemma finished guessing reasons why Justin was in town she found herself at the checkout, handing her debit card to the sales clerk and helping the bag boy with her groceries.

The drive back to her and Peter’s apartment was lonely. The roads were still deserted – it was only seven o’clock on a Sunday morning after all– and even the radio refused to play anything but depressing song after depressing song. When she finally made it back home she said a quick hello to the doorman and made a beeline for the elevator, groceries in hand. 

---

Gemma woke up five hours later to find Holly standing over her with a large paper bag from their favorite Thai restaurant and a happy grin painted on her face.

“Morning, Gemma!” She greeted with a laugh, “Or maybe good afternoon. I hope you don’t mind I let myself in…I can’t believe you didn’t hear me, I rang the bell like five times.” Holly threw her keys on one of the side tables.

Gemma sat up from where she had passed out on the couch and flipped the muted T.V. off.

 “Yeah, sorry,” She yawned, “I don’t even remember falling asleep.”

Holly walked into the kitchen, still watching her sister as she searched for bowls in the cupboards. “No prob. You hungry for lunch?”

With a yawn Gemma stood up and met Holly in the kitchen, grabbing the bowls and take out bag to the square glass dining room table.

“I am so glad you brought lunch, Holly, I’m starving!”

Holly smiled as she plopped down at the table, reaching for one of the Styrofoam containers keeping the soup warm and pouring it into her bowl.

“Not a problem,” she said with a smile. “I’ve been craving Thai for days.”

“Mmm.” Gemma answered in agreement from the kitchen where she was grabbing napkins for the two of them. 

“So.” Holly started as Gemma returned, handing Holly a napkin before laying hers across her lap.

“So.” Gemma repeated and took the first taste of her soup.

“I have some great news!” Holly paused but before Gemma can ask what the news was Holly explained, “I think I found you a photographer for the wedding!”

Gemma gave her sister a smile, ignoring the butterflies that always seem to find their way to her stomach at the mention of her wedding. “Really? That’s wonderful! Where did you find them?”

“Well,” Holly began. “Remember that man I was talking to last night at the party before you ran off to who knows where?” She waved her hands in the air for emphasis. “Where did you go that night, anyway?”

Gemma’s right hand held onto her soupspoon like a life raft, praying that Holly wouldn’t notice the sudden loss of color in her face. Keep calm, Gem, she thought, Justin wouldn’t agree to take your wedding photos. That’d be ridiculous.

“Well his name’s Justin Timberlake and he was actually there to take photos for the newspaper. I asked him if he would be willing to show you his portfolio and discuss wedding photos!” Holly exclaimed.

Realizing her hand was shaking so much soup from her spoon was splashing onto the table Gemma let it fall back into the bowl as if it burnt her. Keep calm, Gem! “And what did he say?” Gemma asked, twisting her engagement ring around her finger.

Holly beamed. “I called him today and he’ll be over around five tonight!” Holly gave an excited squeal and Gemma somehow managed to choke on her spit.

"Oh," Gemma coughed as she nodded her head furiously, forcing the fear of seeing Justin again deep into her chest.

 

“But isn’t it great?” Holly questioned with a pout as she handed Gemma an extra napkin, a look of mild disgust crossing her features. “You don’t seem as excited as I thought you’d be.”

 

Whether it was natural talent or a strategy that she used when attempting to get her way, whenever something happened that wasn’t in Holly’s favor, she pouted. Full on pouted. She would furrow her brow, bat her big brown eyes, and actually stick her bottom lip out. Somehow, Holly always managed melt the soul of whoever was her target to get her way with that one simple look, and Gemma was no exception.

 

“No,” Gemma assured. “No, Hol, I’m totally excited! It was just a long night for me, and I had to take Peter to the airport really early this morning. But I’m so excited, Holly!” Gemma made a face somewhere between a smile and a grimace.

 

Holly grinned, her sister’s lack of enthusiasm suddenly forgotten. “Oh, I see. You had a long night, huh? You guys finally out of that dry spell?”

 

“Oh my god, Holly, quit it!” Gemma exclaimed while her cheeks tinted pink. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

 

Holly laughed, undeterred. “Okay, Gem, whatever you say.”

 

With a clear of her throat and a quick run of her fingers through her hair, Gemma looked down at the table. “So, did you even see any of Justin’s photos?” She asked nonchalantly.

 

Holly stared at her sister for a few seconds while she stirred her soup absentmindedly. As a rule, Holly considered Gemma to be quite a proper person. She never gossiped unless prompted by Holly, she spoke clearly (but never yelled), she never laughed too loudly in public, and always addressed those whom she wasn’t on an intimate basis with by their last name. So when Gemma spoke of Justin like she had known him all her life it threw Holly for a bit of a loop. However, she chose to ignore it this time.

 

“Not really,” Holly gave a guilty smile. “But I saw him taking pictures last night and he seemed like he knew what he was doing, and that’s what this meeting is for anyway. I would think the pictures were fabulous, but if you don’t like them there’s no point. Plus, even if his pictures totally blow we both would get to at least talk to that hot piece of man one more time."

 

"I'm engaged, Holly." Gemma answered dryly, bringing her left hand at eye level to wiggle her fingers in Holly’s direction. All the while trying to get the image of Justin and Holly out of her mind and berating herself for the slow flush of jealousy that burnt in her chest like an ember, the ache coming in rhythm with her thudding heart.

 

"Yeah, I know." Holly rolled her eyes. "But that doesn't mean you can't look." She said in a singsong voice.

 

"So you're going to be here with me tonight, then, Holly.” Gemma said, taking solace in the fact she wouldn’t be alone with Justin tonight after all.

 

Holly was sipping her water through her straw when she shook her head no. "I can't, sorry Gems, I have a date!" She stood from the table, tossing her napkin and leaving her bowl where it sat.

 

Gamma sighed and threw both napkins into Holly’s soup bowl, assuming she was finished and stood to wash her dishes.

 

"That's really why I came over in the first place." Holly continued. "Can I borrow your silver Louboutins?"

 

At the sink, Gemma rolled her eyes, knowing that Holly was already in her closet pulling out the heels. She hadn't even worn those shoes yet, but with Holly it was impossible to say no. She appeared in the kitchen doorway, heels dangling on her fingers and Gemma gave a sigh and nodded her head in acquiescence.

 

"Thanks a bunch sis!" Holly turned back to the table. "Where did my soup go?"

 

Gemma held up the bowl, still sudsy in the sink. "I thought you were finished." She apologized.

 

"Gemma…" Holly wined. "I had like five bites."

 

With a sigh Gemma waved a gloved hand in the direction of her unfinished soup."You can have mine, Holly. I'm not that hungry, anyway."

 

Holly frowned. "I thought you said you were starving earlier."

 

"I've lost my appetite. Really Holly, you can have it." Gemma explained.

 

"Is this about the shoes?” Holly asked, still standing in the doorway.

 

Gemma shook her head, her eyes never leaving the soup bowl in the sink.

 

“If you don't want me to wear them I don't have to, I'm sure I have another pair that matches my outfit. It’s just..." Holly paused for dramatic effect. "These go so perfectly with that vintage Valentino I picked up last weekend.”

 

"It’s not about the shoes, really. Borrow the shoes, eat my soup, it’s not a big deal." Gemma became increasingly bitter with each word that left her lips.

 

Holly shrugged and went to the table, accepting her sister’s offer without another word.

 

"No big deal." Gemma mumbled, her voice hidden under the running water of the kitchen sink. "Soup, shoes, ex-boyfriend. Have them all, I don't care."

 

And she didn't. Gemma told herself over and over again she didn't care about any of it. Not about the shoes, even though she just bought them two days ago, hadn't worn them yet, and probably wouldn’t get them back for a month. Not about the soup, even though her stomach was rumbling furiously in disagreement, and the smell of soup coming from the dining room table was making her mouth water. And definitely not about Justin, with his stupid new curly hairstyle and crooked smile, even though just the thought of Holly and Justin holding hands made Gemma’s stomach roll with nausea and her heart ache with a feeling her brain chose to leave undefined.

 

Holly came back into the kitchen to find Gemma standing in front of the sink staring blankly out the large apartment windows. She placed the empty soup bowl on the counter and put a hand on Gemma's shoulder.

 

"I've got to go get ready, Gemma. Thanks for the soup. And the shoes. Don't forget Justin is coming over at 5 o'clock sharp."

 

Gemma gave Holly a tight smile and walked her to the door, rubber gloves still encasing her hands and forearms. "Five o'clock, got it. Have a good time Holly, don't go to crazy okay?"

 

Holly smiled the way younger sisters always learn to do to appease their older siblings and with a swish of her auburn hair she was down the hall and in the elevator.

As the lock clicked shut Gemma breathed a sigh of relief, pressed her back against the cold wood of her front door, and surveyed her apartment. Her apartment that Justin would be standing in within – she glanced at the wall clock – three hours. The apartment was a mess, the deep green fleece blanket Gemma used this afternoon still lay crumpled on the living room carpet beneath the large brown leather sectional. A stale, half finished mug of coffee sat on the dark wood coffee table next to the stack of cushions she took off the couch for more room. Clean dishes waited to be put away in the kitchen, the empty soup bowl and take out garbage still resting on the dining room table. She had lived in this apartment for little over a year, but it still seemed like it only belonged to a man. The couches in the living room were brown leather with gold metal detailing, the kitchen was minimalistic and cold, all stainless steel appliances and black granite. The walls were painted neutral colors, matching the carpet and couches, no paintings or photographs adorned the walls, except for one, which stood on the long table situated behind the couch. It was a black and white photo of Gemma and Peter taken at her parent’s house last Christmas Eve.  That one picture was the only thing that madeGemma feelshe had made her mark in the space. Yet, despite the apartment’s lack of femininity, there was a certain warmth to it that Gemma loved.

Most of her things, when she moved in with Peter, were sold or left with Holly since they had shared an apartment prior to Gemma’s move. There were some things, however, that she couldn’t part with and those were kept in their spare bedroom. Gemma pulled the rubber gloves from her fingertips, leaving them on the back of the living room couch before opening the spare room door gently, making sure not to crush any of the blank canvases behind the door. This was her space. This was her sanctuary. Finished paintings stood leaning against each other in the corner, a paint splattered white sheet thrown over them casually. Paintbrushes and bottles were scattered across the large dresser that made it through the move from Gemma’s apartment as well. Shutting the door behind her, she made her way towards the sheet covered easel. Carefully, she pulled the dusty sheet from the unfinished painting that hadn’t been touched since she moved in.

Gemma traced the line of mountains in the background, long since dried with her index finger. “What am I supposed to do with you?” She asked wistfully.

She pulled a white wooden stool out from behind the easel and sat in front of the canvas, her chin falling into her palm on instinct. Gemma refused to move and time ticked by. After thirty minutes of silence, and still no inspiration, she released a breath and threw the sheet back over the easel.

Gemma shouldn’t be surprised, really. Why in the world would she suddenly be struck with inspiration, now of all times? Why would her brain finally decide what it wanted to paint when Justin came back?

She gave a cold laugh and shut the spare room door firmly behind her.

Sometimes, Gemma could almost completely forget how she and Justin met, but the moment she stepped into her painting room it all rushed back. Trace had introduced them her freshman year of college. Trace was a senior, taking what was supposed to be an easy class– Painting I for non-art majors - however, he found out the hard way that their professor was determined to make the class anything but an easy A. Trace took one peek at Gemma’s painting and knew it was time for him to introduce himself and pray that she would be willing to help him. Gemma was happy to help, and as the quarter wore on they became easy friends. One night at Trace’s apartment, they were studying a particularly difficult tutorial on oil painting when Justin walked in. Trace introduced the two, one thing lead to another, and over time, their relationship evolved from casual friends to more.

Gemma shoved the memories aside, grabbed the rubber gloves off the couch, and checked the clock again. She had two hours to clean the apartment up, and she needed to start now.

----

Justin was greeted in the front of the building, at the address Holly had given him last night, by a doorman who directed him to the elevators with a smile and a gesture of his arm. The steady lift of the elevator did nothing to calm Justin’s sudden and overwhelming nerves. Grasping his black portfolio tightly in one arm he watched the different numbers light up as the elevator passed each floor before stopping with a ding on twenty-five. After stepping out and walking down the hall, Justin curled his fist to knock on one of the two doors on this floor, telling himself that he hadn’t confused the numbers and this was the right apartment. Before his knuckles hit the wood, however, the door flew open.

Gemma stood in the open doorway shoeless, a half clipped bouquet of yellow tulips in her arms, and clothed in the cutest sundress Justin had ever seen. Her lips were parted in what he assumed to be surprise and immediately Justin feared Holly never told Gemma he was coming over. A billion scenarios ran through his mind, he was sure she thought he was a crazy stalker, now. No one shows up at your new doorstep after so long without speaking except crazy stalkers. He even considered just turning around and walking back to the elevator, hoping she would assume it was just wishful thinking--despite the fact that the elevator was a mere ten feet away. He knew it was a total asshole move to assume she would be thinking about him at all, anyway, let alone wishfully. But before Justin was able to make his getaway Gemma cleared her throat and spoke.

“Um, hi. Sorry if I scared you, I just heard the elevator open, well, I can always hear the elevator open, but I looked at the time and it’s exactly five o’clock so I just figured it would be you.” Gemma rambled, shifting the tulips in her arm as she pulled the door open wider and pressed her hip against it. “Come on in.”

Justin took a final breath of the neutral hallway air and stepped into the apartment Gemma shared with her fiancé. It was hard for Justin not to feel like he was intruding on something incredibly personal and half of him expected some sort of alarm to go off blaring the fact that he is an ex-boyfriend for all to hear. It’s just another job, seemed to be becoming a mantra as he repeated it over and over in his head while sliding his shoes off his feet and following Gemma to the dining room table.

“Go ahead and have a seat,” Gemma said, pulling out a chair with her free hand, “I’ve just got to finish these flowers and I’ll be all yours.”

Gemma winced at her word choice and quickly made her escape to the kitchen before Justin could answer. She’ll be all his? Could there be any phrase more inappropriate? As quick as she could, Gemma finished trimming the tulip stems, placed them in a small rectangular glass vase and sat them in the center of the dining room table, bringing some much needed color to the room.

Justin’s mouth went dry as Gemma leaned forward over the table to set the tulips down, exposing a generous portion of her breastbone and a tiny peak of the white lace bra she was wearing. Justin had been with other women throughout the past five years, it would have been absurd not to be, but he always found there was something remarkable about returning to the familiar after a long time without it, and Gemma was definitely familiar. Five years had passed, but he found she still moved the same, still loved tulips, and was still completely unaware of her ability to draw the male eye, and that above all, induced the unmistakable pull of desire in the pit of his stomach.

She sat down across from him, her back ridged and her eyes locked on her hands clasped together on top of the table – she was waiting.

Justin cleared his throat. “Are we waiting for anyone else, or…” He trailed off with a glance to Gemma.

“Oh! Oh, no. Peter’s away right now.” She said, “He has a very busy work schedule.” Gemma added in justification.

Justin gave a placating smile. “Well let’s hope he makes it to the wedding.” He joked.

Gemma blanched at his nerve. Peter was busy! Peter was working! She was positive if Peter knew she was picking out wedding photographers right now he would be very sorry he missed it. After all, it was Holly’s idea to schedule the meeting with Justin now, anyway. How dare he insinuate that her fiancé was avoiding planning for their wedding! But before she could respond to his uncalled for and ill-suited comment he continued.

“So I brought my portfolio with me, I assume you haven’t seen any of my work…” He reached below the table and lifted the large black, leather bound binder from the floor and handed it to Gemma. “These are some of the older weddings I’ve shot. There are photos of the more recent ones on my website, if you’re interested.”

Gemma ripped the book open a little roughly and took mild pleasure in the reaction it caused in Justin. With each harsh turn of a page he leaned forward just slightly in defense of his work. Once, after a particularly quick flip of a page she saw him almost reach forward and tear the book out of her fingertips. Gemma barely succeeded in muffling her giggle. Regardless of her current annoyance with Justin, the pictures inside were beautiful, though she hadn’t expected any less. She had seen his work before, but she wasn’t going to admit to that, especially after what he said. Yes, Gemma found his instinct to protect his photography incredibly amusing, however, once again, she struggled to balance the thrill of being in such close proximity to Justin and the guilt that twisted in her stomach with each adrenaline fueled heartbeat. It was like every memory with even just his name in it was scorched into her memory; every word, every touch, every laugh. If Justin was in it, it would never be forgotten, and now, with him so very near and so very much the same, Gemma battled to focus on the present.

“These are very good.” Gemma acknowledged begrudgingly with a final shut of the portfolio and slid it back to Justin across the table. It was the gentlest movement she had made since touching his work.

Justin quickly retrieved his portfolio and put it back under his chair. “Thank you.” He responded in surprise. When it seemed Gemma would not be replying with a ‘you’re welcome’ Justin continued.

“Umm,” he began awkwardly. “Are you at all interested in working with me for your wedding?”

Did she want him to shoot her wedding? She wasn’t sure. In the last two months, she had met with probably a dozen different photographers, each one as mediocre as the next, and after the disaster that was her and Peter’s engagement photos, they really needed someone good for the wedding. Justin’s photos were…amazing. She could see why he had gotten so well known, but she hadn’t expected anything less from him. From the beginning she knew he was special. Gemma considered what she would have done if Justin’s portfolio belonged to another person, would she still be mulling over the complications of hiring him? No.

“I’ll have to talk it over with my fiancé, but I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.” Gemma said. “I’ll have Holly give you a call in a few days with a definite answer, but I’m sure there won’t be a problem.”

“You don’t have any questions about pricing or anything?” Justin asked incredulously.

Gemma shrugged, “We should probably talk about that next time, just in case Peter has any questions that I might not. But there shouldn’t be any issue with pricing.” She added with a tight smile.

Of course not. Justin thought, chiding himself for asking such a stupid question.

Gemma stood from her chair and waited until Justin did the same after gathering his things. They walked to the door in silence and with a nod of his head and a quick shake of her hand Justin was out the door.

He took the four steps to the elevator and pressed the button, willing it to open immediately. He should be glad, right? Justin knew what Gemma meant when she said that there shouldn’t be a pricing issue. She meant money wasn’t an object. And he should be happy, right? His first wedding on the west coast, a notable couple that were sure to share who took their wedding photos with their equally influential friends…This should have been the best scenario imaginable. But as the elevator dinged and the black metal doors opened to reveal the cherry wood paneling Justin felt more like he had just been sentenced to hell.

When Gemma called Peter with the news of finding a photographer she had expected at least a few questions. Instead, what she got was just an, albeit enthusiastic, "okay" and the go ahead to pay him whenever she wanted.

The call to Peter was a little disappointing, she had expected it to allow her to put off the chore of calling Justin at least a little bit. But, as she dialed the number on his website, Gemma realized that for the past few days nothing seemed to be going her way. With her phone held tightly between her ear and shoulder Gemma waited anxiously for someone to pick up. When the phone was finally answered it wasn't Justin, but surprisingly, Gemma found she recognized the voice.

"What up?"

Although no one could see her, Gemma sat up straighter in her chair. "Yes, hello. May I speak to Justin?" She asked, rubbing her sweaty palm down the side of one of her jean clad thighs.

"He is currently indisposed right now." Trace answered, watching Justin turning the ribs over the barbeque.

"Oh," Gemma started, half disappointed half relieved, "Um, Trace? Is that you?"

Trace froze, thankful she couldn't see him through the phone, "Yes..." he trailed off, confused at who could be calling Justin's phone who recognized his voice.

"Hi, it's Gemma. Gemma Porter? Remember me?" She asked with a nervous laugh. "Do you think you could tell Justin I called? About wedding photos?"

"Actually," Trace jumped. "I can get him for you. Hold on for a sec."

Leaving Justin's cell phone on the kitchen counter, Trace briskly walked into the backyard. "Hey, J," Trace called. "Phone for you."

Justin looked up from where he was manning the grill and shook his head no. "Tell them I'll call them back, I'm busy, Trace."

"Justin...it's Gemma." Trace called back, almost at a whisper, his arms splayed at his side.

With a sigh Justin laid down the tongs and walked towards the phone as if it was his death sentence.

"Hello? Are you still there?" He asked ignoring Trace's skeptic glance as he walked into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I'm still here...Justin?" She asked.

"Hi, yeah, it's me. Sorry about the confusion." Justin said as he straightened, suddenly feeling much more professional. It was silent on the line for a bit and then he heard a subtle clearing of her throat before Gemma spoke.

"I was just calling to finalize that Peter and I want to book you as our wedding photographer." Her inflection lifted, making her sentence a mix between excitement and a question.

Justin groaned inwardly.

"That's...that's great!" He forced with a furrowed brow and reached for a sticky note pad and pen by Trace's home phone. "I don't remember you mentioning a date for the wedding, has anything been scheduled?"

"Um," Gemma hesitated. "Well we haven't actually found a place to have it yet, so an official date hasn't been set, but we're thinking sometime in late August or early September."

Justin was shocked, she hadn't found a place yet? What kind of engagement was this? "You haven't found your venue yet?" He asked in disbelief.

"No..." Gemma started. "That's another reason why I was calling you. Peter, um," she cleared her throat, "Peter suggested that maybe I ask you for any ideas about good locations to have weddings."

Justin dragged his hand across his face. Of course she wouldn't want to suggest any venues that she found interesting! She'd be content to stand and nod and smile when prompted, never to express her own opinion. Justin thought. For the Gemma he knew it was so unlike her to allow anything to happen without meticulous planning, and this was her wedding! This was her wedding and to Justin, she seemed indifferent, and that was not the way he imagined an engaged, wedding planning Gemma to act. Professional, he reminded himself, act professional.

"Are you guys looking to have an outdoor or indoor wedding?" He questioned.

Gemma sighed. "At this point, we're looking at anything interesting. We just need it big enough to house at least 150 people, but probably more."

"Hmm." Justin said as he walked to Trace's office, ignoring the look of what the fuck from his best friend as he shut the door. "Well, I haven't been back for awhile but I remember this place called Bear Flag Farm, it's outdoor and really, really great. The Whitecomb Hotel in the older part of San Francisco is beautiful, too, and that place can hold up to about 400 people. I'm not really sure of any places besides those that are anything remarkable, the rest are all pretty generic from what I remember."

Gemma reached for the yellow legal pad in the corner of the desk and was scribbling down the names that Justin had listed. "No, it's fine." She said. "Do you think you could give me the addresses to these places?" She asked casually.

"I'm not actually sure of them off the top of my head," Justin answered. "They're probably online though."

Gemma rolled her eyes at her own foolishness. "Right, I'm sorry."

"Not a problem," Justin brushed off her apology. "Definitely check them out, I'm sure you'll like at least one of them."

"Great! Well...thank you, Justin." Gemma said as the awkwardness of their situation rolled over them like a cloud.

"Gemma?" Justin called, barely making it before she hung up. "The places I mentioned are pretty popular, so you should probably check them out as soon as you can."

"Oh, yes, well, I was planning on going tomorrow, so I don't think it will be an issue...but thanks," she added as an afterthought.

The line clicked and Justin was left with the silence of an empty room and the cold weight of his phone against his cheek. Justin closed his eyes with a sigh and rested his forehead on the cool wood of Trace's desk, the telephone still pressed against his ear.

There was a knock on the office door and Trace walked in, his face grim.

"Ribs are done," he said.

Justin sat up. He put the phone down on the desk, put the pen back in its holder and placed the sticky notes where they belonged. "Cool, I'll be out in a minute."

Trace stood in front of the office doors with his arms crossed. "You're really doing this?" He questioned.

Justin's patience was wearing thin, "Um, yeah, I am. How many times do I have to say this is just another job, Trace?"

"You just suggested the place YOU wanted to marry her! How is that normal!?"

Justin shrugged. "You're right, I wanted to have our wedding there. But did you hear that, Trace? Wanted. Not want, not must, not need, wanted. Past tense. Five years is a hell of a long time.  More than enough for me to get over some relationship that wasn't really going to go anywhere from the start."

Trace looked skeptical at best. "If you saw nothing in its future, what was the point of proposing?"

Justin stood from the desk forcefully and ran a hand over his head. "I saw something then, yeah...but seeing her again, now, I'm sure it never would have lasted."

Trace stayed rooted in front of the office door. "Why wouldn't it have worked?"

Justin pushed in the chair with a thud and ran his hands up and down the wooden arms. Still looking down he answered Trace. "We're just way too different."

----

"Holly, pleeeease come with me." Gemma begged. She was sitting in front of Holly's apartment in her car, waiting to pick her up so they could go look at the venues Justin had suggested the. After ending the call to Justin yesterday, Gemma had immediately phoned Holly and invited her to come check out the wedding sites. However, around ten o'clock this morning Holly called Gemma asking her if they could reschedule, because Holly had, ‘the worst hang over of her life.'

"Gem, there's just no way." Holly murmured.  "Even through the phone the sound of your voice is just grating."

"Holly please? I'm already here and you're my maid of honor, you can't just bail on me!"

Holly sighed. "Fiiine, give me fifteen minutes."

Gemma agreed and twenty minutes later Holly marched from the building in a blue jersey dress and Gemma's silver Louboutins strapped to her feet looking fabulous and not a sliver hung over. This was just the sort of thing that Holly would do, complain and complain of a hangover and then come out looking more fabulous and more put together than anyone she was with. It was just one of her things. Gemma glanced at her black skinny jeans, flowing baby blue tank, and ballet flats and suddenly felt under dressed. As she plopped down into the passenger seat of Gemma's car Holly adjusted the oversized aviators perched on her nose without so much as a hello. Gemma sighed and started the car. At least she wasn't lying about the hang over.

"You okay, Holly?" Gemma asked quietly.

Holly held her hand to her forehead. "Shh," she answered without even bothering to face her sister and Gemma fought the urge to scream.

Pretending nothing was wrong Gemma made their way to the first venue, the farm, but not before stopping at the nearest Starbucks and picking up a vente Americano and a bottle of water for Holly. Three hours later Gemma and Holly were still in the car, looking for an exit that seemed to never come.

"Gem, you're totally lost, why don't you just call the place and ask for directions. Right directions." Holly complained.

"I told you we're fine, and I know where we're going! We just haven't passed our exit yet." Gemma justified.

"Come on! We've been in the car for like, three hours!" It should not have taken us this long to get to the farm! It's in Winters!" Holly groaned, her hang over seemingly immune to her own yelling. "Please just call the venue," she said and slammed her head against the back of her seat.

Gemma squeezed the steering wheel tightly with one hand and fished out her phone. Quickly scrolling through her contacts she responded. "I didn't save the number." She said with a sigh, bracing herself for Holly's outburst.

"Oh my God." Holly started, pressing her hand to her forehead again.

"Look," Gemma said, as she flicked her blinker on, taking the nearest exit. "We'll just go to the hotel in San Francisco okay? We both know where that is for sure."

Holly sighed. "Yeah, that sounds fine, I guess."

"Good." Gemma said, her voice void of the anger that was previously building.

A moment passed before Gemma ventured in a discussion with Holly.

"So...how did your date go?" Gemma asked.

Gemma could see Holly's brows furrow behind her sunglasses. "Date?" Holly asked, confused.

"Yeah, you know, the one you borrowed the shoes for," Gemma said as she pointed to the shoes still adorning Holly's feet. "And by the way, when am I going to get those back? I thought you just needed them for the date."

"Oh," Holly said, still sounding a bit confused. "Ohhh!" she said again, as if just remembering. "He was nice, I suppose, but I think he wanted something long term. And you know how much I love being single. And, Gemma, you know I'll give you your shoes back soon. I just wore them today so I wouldn't forget I had them."

 "That's too bad." Gemma spoke. "About the date and the shoes."

Holly gave her first smile of the day, "No, not really, on to the next one, you know what I mean?" Holly laughed and glanced at Gemma's left hand on the steering wheel. "No, I guess you don't know, do you?"

Gemma gave a weak smile.

"I can't believe it, Gemmy! Your first serious relationship and you're engaged! I hope you don't expect your kids to have any cousins from me any time soon!"

Gemma let out an uncomfortable laugh, the idea of mothering little Peter's making her surprisingly nauseous. Quickly attributing her unsettling feelings to just nervousness about the fact she was finally picking out a location for her wedding, Gemma answered her sister.

"No, Holly, I don't. Could you imagine Dad's face if he found out you were pregnant without a husband!?" Gemma laughed.

Holly giggled with her. "He'd probably track down the poor guy and force him to marry me! Even if we both didn't want to!"

Gemma and Holly laughed for the entire ride to San Francisco. Bouncing ridiculous scenario after ridiculous scenario off of each other, each one involving a pregnant Holly, a reluctant baby daddy, and their own father's hired assassin. It was in times like these that Gemma loved her sister the most. She was charming and hilarious and Gemma knew completely that Holly would do anything for her sister's happiness. And by the time they had parked and were getting out of their car both Holly and Gemma were clutching their sore stomachs from laughing so much.

Though a good hour early for their appointment, Gemma and Holly managed to start the tour of the hotel's amenities almost as soon as they arrived. The hotel was large, as Justin said it would be, and much too grand for Gemma's taste, as she expected Justin knew as well. Holly, however, loved everything about the hotel, from the turn of the century architecture, to the ballroom, which boasted enough space for 500 guests, where the reception would be held.

"Gemma!" Holly held onto Gemma's arm with a squeal of excitement. "This place is perfect! Don't you think?"

Gemma gave a placating smile, "It is nice, but you know, we haven't even seen the other place."

Holly scoffed. "Why even see the farm when this is so great? Not to mention available! And you know Daddy would love it!"

Gemma nodded her head in agreement, it was true, her dad would love this hotel, its grandeur and reputation were things that he always looked for, but something in her was begging her to visit the farm. "I just think we should explore all the options, you know?"

Holly was standing facing Gemma's left, and for a moment, when Holly never responded Gemma thought there was something wrong with her. But as soon as Holly opened her mouth Gemma decided it would have been better if something was wrong with her.

----

Justin had, much to his dismay, accompanied a prospective client to the hotel the very next day after he suggested Gemma to visit as soon as possible. And as fate would have it, just as he was about to exit the lobby he heard someone shout his name excitedly from across the atrium.

"Justin!" Holly exclaimed, waving happily with one hand and dragging her sister along with the other. "How great to see you again!"

Gemma folded her arms across her chest. "Why are you here?"

"Gemma!" Holly admonished through her teeth, only moving her head a fraction of an inch in Gemma's direction. "Why are you so rude all of a sudden?"

"What?" Gemma challenged. "I was just asking." Justin noticed, however, with each word of her defense Gemma's voice lost more and more conviction.

Justin interrupted before Holly could speak, wanting to clear up any sort of thoughts Gemma may have in her head about him planning their run-in. "A new client wanted me to check out this venue with them, help them weigh the aesthetic pros and cons."

Holly smiled wider, if that was possible. "Yes, of course! That makes perfect sense! What a good idea, to ask an artist's point of view on something so incredibly important."

Justin smiled and nodded his head awkwardly.

"Oh!" Holly clasped her hands together. "I have the most wonderful idea! You should come with us and show us the farm!"

Justin finally made direct eye contact with Gemma, confusion written on his face. "You haven't already gone?"

Gemma shook her head, a light pink dusting her cheeks. "We got a little lost..."

Justin chuckled knowingly and took comfort in the fact that at least a few things hadn't changed about her. That was the reason he had always driven when they were together. He could count on one hand the number of times they got lost, and each time Gemma had been driving. It didn't matter if he was navigating, as long as she was behind the wheel, it was guaranteed that they would get at least a little lost.

"So you'll come? Right now?!" Holly asked, oblivious to the tension between the ex lovers.

Justin frowned, "I actually can't go today. I'm supposed to meet Trace to look at my new west coast office," Justin jiggled his watch forward on his wrist to check the time and frowned, "fifteen minutes ago."

As Justin's denied her request Holly pouted, but within seconds the implications of what he said clicked. "Oh! Does that mean you're staying in California long term?" She questioned enthusiastically.

Justin rubbed the back of his neck and checked his watch again. "I'm not really sure, I've still got to gage the amount of interest in my business. But it looks like I'll be here for at least another couple months."

Holly beamed. "Isn't it so great he's staying?" She asked Gemma, looking for more praise for her own good will than an actual conformation of the fact.

Gemma gave a cold smile. "I'm surprised he can stay anywhere for very long."

Holly tilted her head in confusion but like she always seemed to do around Justin, chose to ignore her sister's unusual behavior.

"Well how about tomorrow? Can you come then?" Holly asked Justin.

Justin looked from Holly to Gemma and back again, weighing his own pros and cons. Should the duty to a client, namely Gemma, carry more precedence than the sting he was sure to feel at the physical presence of the girl he once wanted to marry at the place he planned their wedding? For what seemed like the billionth time, "it's just a job" sounded in Justin's head and he made a decision.

"Sure, why not. I'll come with you." Justin said with a grin, avoiding the death glare Gemma was giving him and praying that he made the right decision.

Leaving the lobby and the presence of Gemma was like a breath of fresh air for Justin. He could only imagine how incriminating it looked to her, that he showed up to the very place he suggested, at the exact time she had scheduled an appointment. As if he was trying to see her again! Justin shook his head as he slid into the driver's seat of his rental. She seemed really angry with him today, though it wasn't completely uncalled for, he couldn't remember a time he had seen her act that way. And Holly, dear lord, Holly. Justin made a silent prayer to God that she wasn't interested in him, because that could only go one way - horribly. Already, with just her mild pursuit of him Justin felt uncomfortable. And...maybe that's why Gemma was so rude. Was she...jealous?

No, she couldn't be! His mind reasoned.

Think about it, his heart argued. She did seem pretty unenthusiastic about being there.

She was probably just tired. His mind suggested.

"Tired and rude!" Justin said aloud with a chuckle.

The more he thought about it, the funnier Gemma seemed. Justin wasn't used to her being so short with anyone, and definitely not him. When they were dating he encouraged her to be more outspoken, it's true, but he never thought he would be on the receiving end of her unhindered mouth. Especially after her own demonstration of the fact that she still bent to Holly's almost every wish. But instead of her biting attitude getting on his nerves, he found it sort of...cute. What she said earlier, about him never being able to stay anywhere kind of hurt, but when would it not? And couple that with the fact that he could laugh about it after, he really must be over her. Completely. Suck on that, Trace. Justin thought smugly.

Although Justin was now absolutely, one hundred percent sure that he was over her, these past few days that he had spent around Gemma left him a little lonely. She was magnetic to him, she always had been, and seeing her again had only reminded him of that. He was over her - completely over her. But just because he was completely one hundred percent over her didn't mean they couldn't be friends. They were friends before they dated, so they could be friends after, too.

Despite what Trace may believe, shooting Gemma's wedding really was just another job. But...it did seem like everyone else was hell-bent on turning it into something more, whether on purpose or not. But Justin could handle it, he could. Sure these first few run-ins with Gemma had been a little awkward, but that should go away with time. Would go away with time. And Gemma should be fine with it too, if it were that uncomfortable for her she wouldn't have hired him. And with that frame of mind Justin pulled up to his new west coast office to find Trace standing at the door his cell phone in hand.

"Took you long enough!" Trace called as soon as Justin's door opened. "You're never late."

Mild beeps sounded from Justin's car alarm as he walked over and unlocked the front door. "I know, sorry." Justin held the door open for Trace, though he made no move to enter just yet.

"Why were you late?" Trace questioned skeptically, his feet rooted in front of the door.

"I ran into some people." Justin said vaguely as he stepped through the front door, no longer waiting for Trace to enter.

"Some people, huh?" Trace asked as he followed Justin in.

"Yeah, people."

"Girl people? Gemma people?"

Justin sighed. "Yes. Gemma people. When are you going to stop making this such a big deal, Trace?"

Trace scoffed. "When you start acting like it's a not a big deal! If it wasn't a big deal do you think you would have answered so vaguely about who you ran into?"

Justin grumbled, his back to Trace, as he took in the new space.

"Exactly." Trace answered. "When you stop treating her like she's something special, I'll stop giving you shit about it!"

Justin sighed again and turned back to Trace. "Fine."

"Good." Trace replied happily. "So what do you think of the building?"

The new office Justin had originally envisioned was small, mostly to be used for business calls and developing his photos, since couples always seemed to want to meet at their own homes or over lunch, anyway. This building, however, was much larger that what he had had in mind. There were three separate offices in the back of the space, two of which had one wall of complete glass facing the front door, and the other Justin assumed was what he would use to develop his photos.  The rest of the space was devoted to a large, open reception room with clean white walls that took up about half of the square footage.

"It's too big." Justin stated.

Trace smiled and held his arms out from his sides. "I got you a great deal on this space, man. The price is the same as it would be for something much smaller. I figure you're going to have to expand eventually once you get well known, so you might as well already have the space."

"You don't know I'll have to expand." Justin answered off-handedly. Walking deeper into the building, running his hand across the wall.

Trace opened an office door and peered in before shutting it again. "Don't be a dick, Justin. We both know you're going to have to expand."

Justin just smiled and walked deeper into his new office. It was nice empty, when it was furnished he was sure it could be amazing. Maybe this isn't too big, Justin thought. Maybe this is just right.

"Are you sure you have to do Gemma's wedding photos?" Trace asked abruptly coming to stand next to Justin in the office.

"God, Trace!" Justin yelled, he had thought this discussion was over. "You know it's completely necessary. Their business will give me so much publicity, and you know it. It's just a job, so just fucking drop it already!"

Trace folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the glass of the office wall. "Look, Justin. You don't have to pretend that way. I was there when you proposed, I was there when you left. It was ME who avoided Gemma until she stopped coming all together. So don't pretend like that girl didn't fuck you up more than you want to admit, all I'm saying is be careful. Five years IS a long time, J, but let's not kid ourselves into thinking that has been enough for you."

"It has been enough, Trace." Justin argued. "I'm completely over it. At the most, Gemma and I can be friends. It's what we were before everything, and I don't see why we can't be it afterwards, too."

Trace nodded his head and thankfully said nothing, there was only so much Justin could take. Why could no one believe that it was possible for him to handle Gemma's photos without any emotional attachment? It was possible for him to work around her and not get distracted by the light, clean scent of some unnamed perfume she wore. Or the way she tilted her head back to laugh when something was truly funny, like it was the first laugh of her life. And certainly not the way she looked better than she did five years ago. How the jeans she wore earlier in the day showcased the most gorgeous pair of legs Justin had ever seen.

No, working for Gemma would just like any other job.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next afternoon, Gemma and Holly were picked up by Justin, looking casual in a charcoal grey t-shirt and jeans. Gemma had forced Holly to stay the night in an outward attempt to make it easier on Justin, though in truth, Gemma had feared that being trapped in a car with only him as company, even for the short distance to Holly's house, would be unbearable. Since leaving the hotel in San Francisco the idea of spending time trapped in a car with Justin had been weighing heavily on Gemma's mind. There would be a time today, she was sure, when he would give one look, make eye contact with her in such a way, she would be tossed back in time like a rag doll. Back to a time where she could read those looks, those eyes, that face. And maybe, in that strange vortex where she felt twenty again, with the first taste of love still fresh on her lips, she would remember him, and what he meant to her. And even in the comfort of her apartment, that idea made Gemma terrified. It had taken a long, long time, and a lot of hard work, but she had gotten over Justin, and she was determined to not let him bother her today.

"Gemma?" Justin called through his open passenger window bringing her back to reality.

She shook her head, hoping to remove any lingering thoughts of him and walked to the front door of his car. Behind her, Holly cleared her throat.

"I can sit in the front if you want, Gem. I know you never sleep well, maybe you could lay down in the back?" Holly suggested, eyeing Justin as he flicked from radio station to radio station.

Gemma shook her head no and proceeded to slide into the front seat of Justin's car. Holly was completely tactless, sometimes. From the corner of her eye Gemma watched Holly's shoulders fall as she begrudgingly slipped into the back seat behind her.

"You don't sleep well?" Justin questioned trying to sound as unconcerned as possible.

"It's nothing." Gemma brushed off, rolling up the window and avoiding his eyes.

Justin's brows furrowed and he continued to stare at her profile, watching her fiddle with the air conditioning. She wasn't sleeping well? How long had it been going on, Justin wondered. But his conscious allowed him only seconds before reality called him back and the heavy rock on her finger reminded him it wasn't his concern.

"You should try taking melatonin, it helps." Justin suggested, watching Gemma's eyes flit carefully to his and then back out the window.

"Yeah, maybe." Gemma offered, and the conversation was over.

"All set?" Justin asked with a sigh, mostly addressing Holly as he shifted the car into drive.

Gemma took a deep breath as the car rolled forward, and the light, spicy scent of Justin's cologne surrounded her. Immediately, snapshots of their past flashed behind her eyes, and briefly she let herself imagine what could have been if he had never left.

----

After an all too long hour in Justin's car, they arrived at the farm and made their way to the main house. Farm workers and employees were coming and going as the threesome stood at the entryway of the main farmhouse waiting for their tour guide to show up. Gemma looked over at Holly, dressed in dark blue skinny jeans, a white oxford tucked into her pants, black blazer and knee length black boots, most likely Holly's take on a riding outfit, all that was missing was the riding crop.

"Holly, what are you wearing?" Gemma asked.

Holly pouted, folding her arms across her chest, "What? You said it was a farm!"

Gemma looked around at the employees, the majority of them dressed in some form of denim and cotton and then at her own outfit of a loose yellow, floral, high-waisted skirt and navy blue blouse. "Yes, I did, but I'm sure everyone thinks we're both horribly over dressed."

Justin made the first sound since they left the car as he cleared his throat loudly, and Gemma could have sworn she saw him roll his eyes.

"Are you okay, Justin?" Holly asked, stepping forward, her hand curling around his forearm.

"He's fine." Gemma interrupted, checking her watch for the umpteenth time.

Justin grinned down at Holly and nodded his head. "I'm fine." He repeated.

Annoyance burned in Gemma's chest when Holly's hand refused to budge from Justin and, with his forearm still clutched under Holly's palm, the tour guide arrived.

----

The farm was beautiful, just as Gemma had expected. There were orchards and a seemingly infinite lavender field, wrought iron fences, and a long, winding gravel road leading up to the main house where the wedding reception would take place. Immediately, Gemma loved it, though she had a sinking feeling that Holly was a little less impressed. The threesome, plus their tour guide, were wondering through the orange orchard, the smell of citrus wafting through the air and the shadows from the leaves making patterns on the ground. Gemma was in the front, a little farther ahead of Justin and Holly, whose arms were still linked as they made casual conversation about each other's family.

"So do you have any siblings?" Holly questioned.

Justin shook his head. "Nope, I'm an only child. Is Gemma your only sibling?"

Justin forced himself to ask questions, though he had already learned all there was to know about the Porters years ago.  

"No, we have an older brother, Henry. But he's already married and everything."

"Are you an aunt yet?" Justin asked with a smile, his eyes flicking to Gemma quickly, letting himself imagine, just for a second, what she would be like taking care of a child.

"No, not yet." Holly said, adjusting her sunglasses. "But Gemma seems pretty anxious about it."

Justin was quiet, though his heart ached painfully again at the thought of Gemma with a small child, even if it wasn't her own.

"Hey, Gem," Holly stopped mid sentence, finally realizing that Gemma was about ten feet ahead of them. "Damn, Gem, slow down! Where are you headed off to?" Holly called, laughing.

"I just have a lot of things to do today." She called over her shoulder, still walking, tucking a stray piece of hair back behind her ear.

Holly continued to laugh as she spoke, speeding up her stride to come closer to Gemma, all the while dragging Justin along with her. "Like what? It's not like you have a job."

Gemma stilled, and turned around to face Justin and Holly completely. Her brows were furrowed and her arms crossed and cautiously, she took a quick glance at Justin who was looking at her like he didn't recognize her. Gemma felt her cheeks redden and hoped that the heat from the day could be blamed for it.

"You don't work?" He questioned, trying to remain impartial.

Gemma opened her mouth to answer, but Holly beat her to it.

"No, she hasn't worked since...jeez, I don't know when." Holly laughed casually, as though it wasn't a big deal that Gemma was unemployed.

Gemma blanched and shot a glare at her sister before chancing a glance in Justin's direction. His eyes were on her, searching, waiting for her to deny it. But instead of a rebuttal Justin watched as she seemed to physically deflate and shrug her shoulders in indifference.

 "You don't work?" Justin repeated, dead set on getting a concrete answer from her.

"Not anymore, no." Gemma sighed, looking uncomfortable and still glaring at Holly.

Justin was shocked, to say the least. It was one thing to allow her family to dictate her wedding venue, or what she should wear, but to take control of her career? And for Gemma to accept that...well, maybe he didn't know her as well as he thought he did.

----

For years, Gemma and Holly would spend the day after Christmas in Los Angeles, shopping for hours on end, spending their Christmas money and returning gifts that left much to be desired. But this year, instead of trudging through the luxurious shops on Rodeo Drive, Gemma was sprawled across an itchy, threadbare couch, her head in Justin's lap, watching the credits of The Bourne Supremacy scroll up the screen.

"You know Matt Damon's wife was just some random bartender he met in Miami?" Gemma asked, tipping her chin up to meet his eyes.

"Oh, really? I didn't know that." Justin answered, his hand spreading across her stomach, his thumb and pinky almost reaching her hipbones.

Gemma nodded enthusiastically. "Yep. Now she doesn't do anything. She just goes with him wherever he's working and takes care of the kids."

 "If only he had found you at a bar! Right Gems?" Justin joked, his pinky sliding under the cotton of her t-shirt drawing invisible designs on her skin.

Gemma shook her head vigorously. "Do you know me at all? I could never just sit there while he worked million hour weeks or whatever. I'd be bored to death."

Justin's hand stilled under her shirt. This was the first time she had ever spoken about what she wanted to do with her life. Before, he had assumed she was content staying home once she was married, her mom did it, and Gemma had mentioned more than once that her dad found it the most important place for a woman to be.

"You don't want to be a stay at home mom?" Justin pried.

Gemma rolled her eyes and shook her head again. "I don't want to be a stay at home anything."

"Well...then what do you want to do, Gemma?" Justin questioned, using his free hand to run his fingers through her hair.

Justin watched as her face lit up at the thought of whatever she wanted to do. For a moment she laid there, completely still, as the ghosts of her plans shown in her eyes.

"I want to paint." Gemma whispered, surprise flashing across her face. It was the first time she had ever spoken it out loud. Before her dream was just that - a dream. But even by just voicing it, Gemma suddenly felt as though it wasn't such a farfetched idea anymore. Suddenly, she knew she could do it. "I want to paint." She said it again, this time with a little more assurance.

Justin smiled, watching as the pleasure of her own decision bloomed across her face, her cheeks pinking in excitement. "Paint, huh?"

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded her head, a small smile forming, and her eyes crinkling in the corners. "Yeah, I want to open my own gallery." And with a grin she pinched his side and added, "And maybe if you ever got over your stage fright we could put up your photos, too."

Justin chuckled, deep and sexy, leaning his head against the wall behind him and looked to the ceiling. "A painter and a photographer? Are you sure you're ready for that, Gems? I'm pretty sure we'd be destitute." He laughed again and glanced down at her, watching reluctant laughter bubble from her throat.

"We wouldn't be destitute, Justin. Have a little faith." Gemma responded through her giggles, tugging on his shirt gently.

"Is that what you want, Gemma?" Justin asked, his laughter dying in his throat.

She eyed Justin from her place on his lap, noting the way his voice seemed to lose all its joking quality within seconds. "Yes." She whispered. "That's what I want."

"Then you'll do it." Justin told her, his tone final.

And in that moment, Gemma knew she had found something special in Justin. She had never had a relationship like this one; no one had given her their complete and total faith the way he just had. He trusted and believed in her so fiercely it sometimes took her breath away. When her family was there telling her of the difficulties of starting a business, or even getting into the college of her choice, she knew Justin would be there to listen, pick her up, and tell her she could do it. Unwavering support is what he gave, and in his support, Gemma was able to find her own strength.

----

Justin was shook out of his memories by the quiet but still surprising bickering of Holly and Gemma. They had moved a few feet ahead of him in a small attempt at privacy, though in the still of the orchard he had no problem hearing what they were saying.

"God, Holly, why do you always manage to throw my business out there like-"

"Calm down! It's just Justin, why does he even matter?"

"He doesn't matter, Holly! This isn't about him at all! This is about you, and the fact that you can never keep your mouth shut!" Gemma responded hotly.

As soon as the words left Gemma's mouth she froze, never in her life had she spoken to anyone that way besides Justin, but he shouldn't really count. And with one glance at Holly's face it was clear she never expected those words to come out of Gemma's mouth either. However, what took them both by surprise the most was Holly's response.

"I'm sorry, Gemma." She answered solemnly, hanging her head a bit. "I didn't realize it was such a big deal, I promise," she held up her hand, "to never do anything like that again."

That tone, that raised hand, and that promise were all it took to send Gemma back to their childhood when Holly would follow her around everywhere, desperate to be just like her. Gemma couldn't be mean to her then, even when Holly shaved off all her Barbie's hair after she ruined her own, and twenty some years later, nothing had changed.

"Oh, stop it, Holly." Gemma sighed, shoving her sister playfully. "It's fine, all is forgiven."

Holly grinned widely, shoving her sister back, but any sort of shove, with Gemma's four inch heels already precariously balanced in the gravel would have sent her reeling backwards, and this one did just that. Her fall was like slow motion, her hands waving wildly at her sides, and time was moving slow enough for her to consider the fact that this position couldn't possibly be flattering and she felt the blush warm her cheeks. And then, without notice, there was something solid at her back. For a split second she was sure she had hit the ground, but the warmth on her back and the lack of pain in her wrists or ass told her otherwise.

A deep, throaty chuckle sounded from behind her, and the warm breath tickling her ear told Gemma exactly where she was. For a moment she stilled, frantically telling herself she hadn't missed this, the strength of his chest, the warmth of his bare skin-it was always like he was burning-or the way her head seemed to fit perfectly underneath his chin, and it worked. She sprang from his arms in an instant, whipping around to face him as if she had been burned.

Justin watched with amusement as she looked wildly from the gravel where her feet had slipped, to him, and back to the ground again. He gave her a quick grin. "You're welcome."

Holly, who had moved closer to Gemma, shoved her forward again, completely bypassing all logic that clearly said that a person wearing heels should not be shoved in gravel.

"Say thank you, Gemma! Jesus!" Holly whispered through her teeth.

Gemma blinked rapidly, "Thank you." She said running her palms up the side of her arms where Justin's hands had gripped her only seconds before.

Justin shrugged, brushing it off with a smile and a shake of his head. Their eyes met, each begging to say something different.

You're always there to catch me.

I won't always be here to save you.

"You are so great, Justin!" Holly praised, nudging Gemma to the side. "I don't even want to think about what Gemma would have done to me if you hadn't caught her!"

Justin was tempted to tell Holly that Gemma most likely would have done nothing, but quickly decided against it. Instead, he let Holly take hold of his arm once again, and lead him off towards the lavender field, and this time, he was certain that he caught the briefest flash of jealousy in Gemma's eyes as they passed her. The rest of the tour went by quickly, and Holly and Gemma found themselves following Justin down the long gravel hill to where they parked.

"So what did you think of the farm?" Holly asked, sliding her sunglasses to the top of her head as the sun made its way behind the mountains in the distance.

Gemma glanced at her sister, searching for some sort of hint as to what she thought of the farm, but Holly gave nothing away. "I liked it. A lot actually. I really don't want a giant, extravagant wedding, but I know we have tons of family, and this place would hold them just fine. I've still got to talk to Peter about it, but I think this might be the one." Gemma spoke cautiously, watching her sister for any sort of bad reaction.

Holly was quiet for a long moment, much longer than what Gemma had considered natural, and then, a brilliant, white grin spread across her face.

"Oh, Gem! I'm so glad! You know I liked the Hotel in San Francisco better, but this is your wedding and I'm so happy for you! This is like, almost the final step, you know? Aren't you just so excited!?" Holly gushed, weaving her arm through Gemma's.

As Holly spoke Gemma's eyes followed Justin, who had finally made it down to the car. She watched him as Holly went on and on about the wedding, invites, colors, cake tastings, and bachelorette parties. Justin was rolling his neck, cracking his knuckles, stretching, and lifting his arms high in the air as his mouth opened wide in a yawn. It should have been comical, his wide, open mouth, his arms stretched to the sky, but one peak at the tan skin between where his shirt had risen and the waistband of his boxers and Gemma was left speechless.

Five years was a long time, but Gemma wasn't sure an eternity would be enough time to forget what that body was capable of. And suddenly, it felt like the ground had disappeared from underneath her as bits and pieces of nights they spent together rushed to the forefront of her memory. But it only took a split second for Gemma to realize that the ground was literally coming away from her feet. In her observation of Justin she had forgotten that walking down a graveled hill in four inch heels required all her concentration, and thus, the moment she let her mind drift to Justin and his arms and stomach and the little dips underneath his hipbones she stumbled. And the thing with gravel is that it's not unlike snow; once it starts going, it doesn't normally stop. Unless...unless you've got someone there to pull you up, and that's just what Holly did.

"Damn, Gemma, that's the second time today! Maybe I shouldn't give you back those Louboutins if you're just going to fall in them all the time!" Holly teased.

Gemma stood upright and tucked her hair back for the millionth time that day. "Yeah, thanks, Holly." She mumbled, distractedly, hoping that Justin hadn't noticed her staring or her second trip of the day.

Justin, despite Gemma's greatest wishes, had noticed her staring and realized he was the cause of her tripping. It was a surprise, to be sure, because Justin knew that look in her eyes, he had seen it more than enough times. That look was predatory and...lustful...and completely inappropriate in any possible situation the two of them could be put in. But even in the face of all the possible problems those looks that Gemma sent him could cause, Justin didn't even attempt at holding back the tiny feeling of triumph thumping in his chest. She...love was still indefinite...but Gemma sure as hell didn't find him repulsive, and Justin had to start somewhere. And judging by the look on Gemma's face right before she fell, Justin wasn't entirely too sad about where he stood.

----

The last Sunday of each month was marked in every Porter's Smartphone as their family dinner night. The Porter's had always been a tight knit family, but once all the children moved out, Richard and Jane Porter had to find a way to stay close. Their solution was to force their three children to come to dinner with them, no excuses allowed, the last Sunday of every month to catch up. It had been three years since the tradition started and every month since then there had been Porter family dinners at various restaurants in the Sacramento area.

This Sunday was no different, Gemma was last to arrive at the restaurant and after kissing each parent on the cheek she took her seat next to her mother and across from Holly. Once seated, her dad and brother, Henry, continued their heated discussion Gemma could only assume was about the upcoming election, as "straw poll" and "landslide" seemed to be reoccurring words.

Finally, her dad turned to her, his fingers laced, resting atop the table. "How are you, sweetheart?" He asked.

Gemma unwrapped her napkin and placed it in her lap. "I'm well, how is the campaigning coming?"

Richard Porter shared a knowing look with his son and smiled confidently. "I'd say it's going well."

Gemma gave a tight smile back, even after all these years the inner workings of political campaigns never failed to bore her.

"So Holly tells us you've found a wedding venue?" Richard asked, raising an eyebrow.

Gemma shot a look at Holly, who shrugged and mouthed sorry, before busying herself with sipping her water.

"Um...yes." Gemma started, clearing her throat once and sending a final glare in Holly's direction. "It's a farm up in Winters, very understated but incredibly classy. They have a website..."

"But what about Whitecomb?" Richard pried, "Holly said that hotel was perfect. We were sure that was the one you were going to choose."

Again, Gemma cleared her throat, forcing the anger at Holly's interference down into her chest. "Yes, it was...very pretty, but the farm in Winters just seemed much more what I was looking for. Dad, it's still very nice, I promise, it's just...not as...stuffy."

Her father sipped his water and made a sound that seemed skeptical at best. "And did you talk about this with Peter?"

Gemma shook her head. "No, I haven't yet, he's been really busy and I haven't been able to get a hold of him."

"Ah." Richard said, setting his water back down on the white linen.

Gemma sighed; she knew what that ‘ah' meant. "Of course it's not final or anything, of course Peter and I have to discuss it."

Her father nodded and before he could say anything else, the waitress emerged with a small basket of bread and a notepad ready to take their orders.

Henry cleared his throat, making it clear that the waitress should start with him. "I'll get the lamb, but please make sure it's not undercooked. Last time I was here the lamb bordered on rubber."

The waitress nodded her head dumbly and turned to Gemma's father, who was still perusing the menu.

"I'll have the New York, medium rare, baked potato, not mashed, and no chives." He lifted his head, his reading glasses still resting on the tip of his nose and nodded to Gemma. "She'll have the seared tuna with the ginger soy sauce, and she -" he nodded his head to Holly, "Will have the scallops and sea bass."

Gemma watched Holly lift her head in confusion, as if she forgot that their dad always ordered for them. When they were younger it was fun, always being surprised by what he would pick for them. He would explain, if they complained, that he knew what was best for them, and honestly, Gemma couldn't remember a time where she wasn't happy with how her food tasted. Now, however, at twenty-five, it was a little odd, and entirely unnecessary, especially because what Gemma really wanted was the parmesan encrusted halibut.

"Daddy..." Holly sang-whined. "I really wanted the quail, not the scallops."

Richard smiled a smile that the entire family knew was saved specially for his youngest child, and were not surprised when he nodded his head and said, "Whatever you want, Hollybear."

Holly sat up a little straighter in her chair, more surprised than anyone that the hijacking of her own order went so smoothly. "I'll have the quail, please." She said with a smile, handing her menu to Henry to place in the growing pile.

Lastly, it was their mother's turn, who quickly requested the swordfish with steamed vegetables and handed the menus to the waitress with a smile and a thank you.

Conversation started up again slowly, Holly turning to their father and brother to recount her latest trip to LA with a couple girl friends. It was then that Jane turned to her middle child and in a jokingly conspiratorial whisper asked, "Any inspiration strike?"

Gemma shook her head with a frown. "No, not yet. I still only have the mountains done."

Jane gave a comforting smile and placed a small piece of buttered bread on Gemma's plate. "Don't worry sweetheart, sometimes it takes a while, but when you know, you'll know, and whatever is supposed to go on that canvas will be obvious. It's good not to force it."

"Yes, but..."

Gemma's mother chuckled softly. "I thought you were my patient daughter."

"I am, but..."

"Five years is a long time," Jane suggested quietly.

Gemma nodded.

 "Inspiration is a funny thing, Gemma. It comes and goes, and when it goes, you've just got to wait for it to come back to you, and it always does, sooner or later."

"Always?" Gemma questioned, pulling at the crust of her bread.

Jane slipped her hand over her daughters and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Always."

----

By the time Gemma made it home she was exhausted. It had been an extremely long day, and as she opened the door to her and Peter's apartment all she wanted was for someone to take her jacket and hand her a glass of wine. But instead, all that welcomed her home was emptiness of the living room and the squeak of the floorboards.

It was a surprise for Gemma to feel so alone once she arrived home, but after being with people for the better part of her day, the silence of the house was deafening. She puttered around the living room a bit, folding blankets and fluffing pillows, doing anything to distract herself from the overwhelming loneliness nagging her heart. She checked the answering machine, knowing there was no red light blinking, but figured it would be better to check just in case. She had been waiting for a call from Peter for a few days, the last time she spoke to him was early in the afternoon on Monday. He had told her he would be busy this week, but Gemma couldn't help the tiny flicker of annoyance when she was sure there were no messages waiting for her. A knock at the door interrupted her silent brooding.

"Gemma Porter?" The deliveryman asked, a bouquet of yellow tulips and a long, thin white package wrapped with a purple bow balancing in his arms.

Gemma smiled with a nod of her head and reached out to take the items from his arms. "Thank you." She said, tipping him quickly before closing the door and making her way to the kitchen.

Peter must have sent her something as a surprise. It was so like him to know exactly when she would need a little pick me up. He was so sweet, it was these thoughtful little gifts that made Gemma sure she was doing the right thing in marrying him. Carefully she carried the flowers and little white box to the kitchen table. With an excited flourish Gemma whipped out the old, dying flowers from the vase and replaced them with her new ones. For a second she admired her handiwork, fiddling with a stray flower so it fit better in the vase, and then she noticed the card tucked neatly in the blooms.

With a light giggle Gemma plucked it out from the flowers, fully expecting some long-winded explanation for his lack of a phone call, but instead, the small white card was blank except for a single black letter "J" scrawled in the middle. Every light, giddy feeling that had been stirring inside her instantly faded into a heavy weight of dread in her stomach. There was only one person who could have sent her these, and he definitely should not have done so. Crumpling the card in her hand Gemma's eyes fell to the thin white box sitting on her kitchen table.

"Oh my God." Gemma whispered, pressing her palm to her forehead.

She knew it would be best to just not open it, she should throw it away and pretend it was never sent. But when Gemma was curious about something it was almost impossible to stop her from discovering whatever she needed to know. And so, hesitantly, as if it was going to explode, she undid the bow and pulled the top off of the box. Moving the tissue paper aside, Gemma was surprised to find, not jewelry, but paint supplies. A few new brushes were first, and then three tubes of oil paint, each a different shade of pink, and that was it. No note, no explanation, just a thin, white box filled with various paint supplies and a bouquet of yellow tulips.