Diamonds Are Forever (5 page)

“I’m gonna go with you,” Azura said.  “Just gotta get a few pics here so people know I showed my face.”

“Azura is a ninja partier,” Damian shook his head.  “She just drops in and out all across the city.”

“With the same alarming speed that alcohol runs through his system,” Azura said, without missing a beat.  “Anyway, can one of you long-armed people take a group shot?” she asked, shoving her phone in between Damian and Corey.  Corey happily obliged, pulling the camera back to fit all four of them in the shot.  Gemma stared at the phone screen as they bunched together.

“Say cheese!” Corey yelled, sticking his free hand up for a thumbs up.  Gemma shook her head, an exasperated smile on her face.

Cheese.

COREY SLOAN, JR. AND GEMMA HUNTER AT NYC CLUB OPENING

The Pop Source

June 10
^th

Spotted once again on the arm of Manhattan heir, Corey Sloan, Jr. was none other than singer Gemma Hunter, who accompanied the billionaire son to the opening of Lower East Side club and lounge, Greyta.

Despite flying below the radar after her high profile breakup with actor, Tyler Chase, Hunter has flown relatively under the radar.  But with the new romance, cameras have been quick to once again shine their lights on the former teen queen – and the timing could not be more perfect! Word has it that Hunter is gearing up to launch her new fashion line, The Court, after years of working within the ranks of designer Armand Jadot’s fashion house.

Also in attendance was Hunter’s friend and reported ex-boyfriend, NBA point guard, Damian Evans.

“Thank you for coming all the way out here,” Zoe said, stretching her bare legs out on the grass.  She propped herself up on her elbows, staring out at the boats passing under the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Whatever it takes to actually
see
you these days,” Gemma smiled.

“Hey, I’m not the only busy one here.  We can blame both our schedules for keeping us apart.”

“I can also blame Gavin,” Gemma said.  “But I don’t really want to think about that.”

“Oh yeah,” Zoe smiled, closing her eyes behind her shades.  “That’s the downside about dating your brother.  I can’t tell you all the gory details.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you refrained from making even comments like that,” Gemma scrunched up her nose.

Zoe was on an extended break from shooting at Steiner Studios.  She had made the quick drive over to Brooklyn Bridge Park, where the two girls were enjoying a late lunch of cappuccinos and almond croissants from a nearby patisserie.  The scene was idyllic with the young parents and their baby strollers and the happy couples taking wedding photos in the romantic river setting.  It was nice to laze around among it, just observing.

“Guess who I ran into yesterday?” Gemma asked.

“Damian,” Zoe replied, quickly.  “I saw it on Azura’s Instagram.”

“What? Are you two friends?”

“Never met her,” Zoe shrugged.  “I just like looking at her booty.”

“Right,” Gemma laughed.

“What’s she like?”

“We didn’t talk for long, but she seemed really nice.  A little… brash maybe, but in a totally fun and most likely intentional way.  And she seems like she’s really good to Damian, so…”

“Good to Damian?” Zoe sat up, pushing her shades into her hair.  “Are those two together for real?”

“I mean, I think so,” Gemma said, leaning her head into her shrugged shoulder.  “They sure acted like it.”

“Really?” Zoe exclaimed.  “She just doesn’t seem like his type.”

“Well, she’s gorgeous.  I’m pretty sure that’s everyone’s type.  You yourself said you follow her Instagram for her booty.”

“I know, but that’s
me.
  And Damian’s
Damian.
  I could maybe see him together with an Aubrey type, but I just don’t see him with Azura.”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, either way, enough about them.  How are you and your boy? When am I meeting the man?”

“You were supposed to meet him yesterday, but you were too tired,” Gemma teased.  “And we’re okay.  I guess.”

“You’re
okay?
You
guess?
” Zoe snorted.  “Wow, that sounds like we totally have to catch up on the super exciting stories you must have about being with him.”  Gemma smiled, happy to hear her react exactly as she had expected her to.  “Alright, so spill.  What’s the deal with you two?”

Taking a deep breath, Gemma explained, going into full detail exactly how she had been feeling about Corey and how everyone had been reacting to it since.  She expressed the guilt she felt for wanting to break up with him when the reason was almost intangible, and that perhaps she had let it all go for too long to say that she just felt like they didn’t click.  Zoe nodded in silence, unraveling her croissant as she listened.

“You need to end it,” Zoe said, when she was done.

“How?”

“Just… do it?” she replied, her eyebrows raised and her shoulders shrugged.  “I can’t really help you there because I don’t actually know the guy.  And you know how
I
would handle it.”

“I do,” Gemma laughed.  She slumped forward a bit, sad that Zoe didn’t have a magical set of words ready for her to present to Corey.

“I don’t even think breakups really need reasons.  You really only give a reason so it provides some sort of closure to the other party.  I mean, if you don’t have a reason, you don’t have a reason, right?”

“I
have
a reason, and it’s that I have zero chemistry with this guy.  I just don’t get why he can’t see it as well.  Chemistry can’t be one way, can it?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe.  Back in Italy with Nicolo, I kind of knew he was into me a little more than I was into him,” Zoe said, referring to the boy she had dated while filming her second Bond role in Porto Cuervo.  “But I think we still had chemistry.  Just not the kind of chemistry that would be long-term.  We were kind of this… slow simmering thing that would have eventually stopped bubbling before it became any sort of big reaction.  It was just fun while it lasted.”

“Hm,” Gemma replied.  She tried to think about her relationship with Corey in the same way. 
Are we even ‘simmering?’
She was pretty sure they weren’t.  She was pretty sure there was no discernable reaction between the two of them at all.

“I’m sorry I’m no help, Gem,” Zoe pouted.  “My brain’s been fried between all the shooting and press and then some fun things at home that I’m not allowed to discuss with you.”

“Ugh,” Gemma laughed, covering her eyes.

“But it’ll get a little less hectic and I’ll be myself again in a couple weeks.  And we’ll all get to meet up and see each other at The Gotham Ball, right?” Zoe asked, sitting up on her knees and downing her coffee.  “And I’ll meet Corey if you still haven’t figured out how to end it with him by then.”

“Gavin’s gonna hate him,” Gemma said, frowning.

“Let’s be real, Gavin’s gonna hate every man you date that isn’t Damian,” Zoe laughed.  “But from what you’re telling me, he would probably hate Corey in particular.  So, there.  Is that enough ammo for you to go and do what you need to do?”

Gemma’s smile was mixed with a cringe as she shook her head at herself.  “I think so.”

GUESS WHO’S STILL ALIVE

The Pop Dinner

June 11
^th

Does anyone need any more confirmation that Queen Bee was in fact a talentless hack? No? Well, here’s some anyway.

For those who may have forgotten, QB only rose to the scene when then-pop idol, Tyler Chase, tweeted his love for the makeup-dependent singer.  Not so surprisingly, Chase and Bee broke up shortly after she was dumped by her label, Oro Records, and since then, the world has essentially forgotten about either Queen Bee
or
Gemma Hunter.

Until now.

Why? Because of a boy.

Shocker.

Now that Bee’s been seen on the arm of eye candy extraordinaire, Corey Sloan, Jr., she’s back in the headlines – which is actually good news for us at Pop Dinner because there’s never been anything more enjoyable than tracking the never-ending drama that follows “The Queen.”

Plus, how
perfect
is this couple? Two people who would have never been famous if it weren’t for their rich families have gotten together to potentially pro-create and churn out more useless, talentless, auto-tuned attention whores.  You can’t tell me you’re not excited.

And as if things couldn’t get more hilarious, Bee has opted to go down the stereotypical road of the failed, otherwise talentless former popstar by
starting her own fashion line
.  Called The Court.  I mean is this a joke?

If not, we’re pretty sure that The Court will never amount to much.  Sorry, Bee.  Hope you actually land some jobs with your desperate little line.  Otherwise you’ll just end up a lonely jester.

Gemma sat in the backroom of her boutique, studying the nearly bare space.  There were four dress forms in a corner, each sporting the beginnings of new designs that had been custom ordered for the Gotham Ball.  Colorful rolls of their corresponding fabrics were scattered beside the manual steamer and the three haphazardly placed sewing machines.  It all looked comically small in the lofty space with its twenty-foot ceilings, plastered white walls, and unfinished cement flooring.  It reminded Gemma of the beginnings of those elementary school dioramas using empty shoeboxes as bases.

Armand was away for a few days, traveling around Europe to visit old friends.  The rest of the team was still at Armand’s studio, where they were working on the two-dozen or so pieces that Gemma had chosen for the runway of her nearing Fashion Week debut.  Much to her delight, Gemma had the day completely alone in the remarkable emptiness of the backroom.  It would only be a matter of time before the space was filled with all the things they were moving from Armand’s studio.  While she still could, Gemma wanted to take the time to make the corner that she had designated as her office space into a more personalized spot.  It was her little pet project.

The little nook was tucked away behind the stairwell of the lofted area.  Though it was still open to the rest of the room, it felt cozy and private.  Gemma was excited to make that space her own.  The rest of the room would remain monochromatic, allowing her elaborate pieces to shine without distraction – but her office would be another story.  Gemma stared at the wall space below the loft and behind her desk.  It was a ten by twelve feet stretch of white wall – a blank canvas for her to create some artwork.  She had picked up several gallons of paint, all in bright, vibrant colors.  Though she wasn’t sure what exactly she’d be painting, she knew she wanted an explosion of those colors surrounding her.

She looked at the cans that she had set along the wall.  There were eight, each indicating the color within with a smudge of paint on the top of the lid.  Gemma grabbed her keyring, tucking the strongest key she had under the metal lid of the magenta paint.  She knelt beside the pail, holding it still in hopes of gaining enough leverage to pop it open, but the lid clung onto the sides with a surprisingly stubborn force.

Gemma sat back for a moment, wondering if there was anything else in the building that would do a better job opening the can.  But in that momentary silence, she could hear the sound of footsteps in the distance.  She frowned.  It was a Saturday and she was pretty sure she hadn’t scheduled any appointments, nor was she expecting any deliveries.  She pushed herself to her feet, smoothing out the rosy pink cotton of her maxi-dress, making her way out onto the main floor.

“Hello?” she called out, stepping into the even emptier space of the boutique.

“Hey, you’re here.”

Gemma peeked her head out to find Damian standing in the middle of the room.  He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, looking as if he had just rolled out of bed and into the first thing he could find.  Or maybe that was just what her mind was imagining for some reason. 
Stop that
, she scolded herself, hoping her eyes hadn’t betrayed her cool by lingering on him for too long.  But in his usual casual wear, she couldn’t help it.