Dark Days: The Long Road Home ✪ free preview

Chapter 1.3

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Caught off guard, Gemma tried to ignore the feelings surfacing deep inside her at Christopher's touch, and the memories it evoked.

She knew she should explain about the fake name she’d given the receptionist when she made the appointment, but she was suddenly lost for words. She hadn’t been expecting such a warm welcome.

Christopher removed his hand from her elbow, putting some space between them as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Christopher asked, his voice noticeably cooler.

“Water would be nice,” Gemma said, confused at the change in his tone as she watched him move towards the water dispenser.

Her eyes took on a life of their own, taking in the strength of his broad shoulders through the tailored white shirt. He was still in good shape, she realized as her gaze travelled down his back, to his narrow waist, stopping to linger on a tight, well-defined butt.

She glanced up, flushing when she realized he’d caught her out, and she could swear there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. So he was still a cocky bastard, then.

Christopher sat down on the other side of the desk, reaching across to place the glass of water in front of her. “So, Mrs. Smith, what can I do for you?”

“Actually, it’s Taylor,” Gemma admitted. “I didn’t know if you would see me…” her voice trailed off as his dark, penetrating eyes met hers and she lost her train of thought.

Taking refuge in her bag, Gemma made a great show of searching for the envelope she’d put the birth certificate in. She hated that he could still unnerve her this way.

“I always have time for old friends,” Christopher said, his voice still cool.

Gemma glanced up. So – it was going to be like that, was it? “Good to know you haven’t outgrown the rest of us,” she said just as coolly.

Pulling the envelope out, she ran her fingers along the crease as she tried to put her thoughts together.

She’d gone over this in her mind countless times on the train, but she had no idea how you were supposed to tell the first person you had ever loved that he had a child with your best friend.

“Though maybe not quite as much time as you have, it would seem,” Christopher smirked.

Gemma’s eyes flashed. He wasn’t making this easy, not that she had expected him to. Well – he was about to have a whole lot less time on his hands with an active four year old to take care of.

Challenging him with her eyes, she took the photograph out of the envelope, and slid it across the table.

He barely glanced at it, his jaw tightening noticeably as he slid it back to her, a fleeting look of regret crossing his face.

“His name is Christopher,” Gemma said softly.

“It is?” his eyes widened with surprise, then just as suddenly darkened. “He’s a good looking boy. You and Mr. Smith are lucky to have him.”

Mr. Smith? For a moment Gemma was confused, then she remembered the fake name she had left with the receptionist.

There was an almost smug look on his face, and she would have laughed if she wasn’t feeling so ruffled. Not only did the very proper Christopher Junior Daley think that she’d had a child out of wedlock, he actually thought she’d named her child after him. Cocky and arrogant; some things really didn’t change.

Wanting this over and done with, she thrust the birth certificate at him. Let him find out the same way she had, that would wipe the smug look from his face.

Raising an eyebrow, he took the birth certificate, carefully unfolding it with strong, slender fingers, the curiosity in his eyes evident.

Taking a deep breath, Gemma watched his face carefully, her mind jumping ahead as she wondered what his reaction would be. When it did come, it was the last thing she was expecting.

His face gave nothing away as he set the birth certificate on the table, casting a quick glance at the photograph of CJ.

“I’m afraid this is quite impossible,” he said dismissively.

“Impossible?” Gemma repeated, her voice rising as she came to her feet. “You deny sleeping with my best friend?”

Gemma knew how she sounded, but she couldn’t help herself. It still irked her that he had slept with Caroline.

“No,” he said, his eyes on her.

“But you deny that he’s your child?”

For a moment she thought he was weakening as an expression she didn’t recognize crossed his face, but then just as suddenly his eyes turned cold and hard. “Like I said, quite impossible.”

Gemma was lost for words. This wasn’t going at all how she expected. How could anyone turn their back on such a sweet child?

She felt her throat tighten as she scooped up the photograph of Christopher. She'd thought at the very least he would be curious about his son.

She should have known that he hadn’t changed. He’d never had to take responsibility for anything in his life, and he obviously wasn’t going to start now.

“In that case, Mr. Daley, if you’ll just sign this, then I will be able to make other arrangements.”

“Other arrangements?”

“For Christopher.”

The phone began to ring, and Gemma stared at it, swiping at the bitter, angry tears that sprung to her eyes. Tears for Caroline who would never get to see all the things Christopher was so easily passing up as his son grew.

“I heard Caroline was sick...” Christopher trailed off, ignoring the insistent ringing of the telephone.

Then instantaneously, the phone stopped and the lights went out, followed only moments later by the squealing of tires and a terrific crash on the street below.