Wednesday Gomez Novels & Stories

It's been three days since I gave him the job, I never expected it would take him this much time. A few minutes later, Tristan comes in. He is dressed in a white t-shirt and blue faded jeans trousers with black sneakers. He smiles at me. "You can sit", I tell him. He sits down in front of me as I relax back in my chair with folded arms, waiting for him to tell me what he found out. "Evelyn Gomez is currently unemployed", he starts. I shake my head, with a smile. "No wonder she is desperate to have me marry her daughter. Stupid woman!" I say inwardly.

“Understood. Consider it done. It will take a few days and we’ll need a picture of the woman and—” “Beth,” I say before I can stop myself. Even I can hear the way I say her name. Gomez misses nothing. It’s what keeps him alive. “Like that is it?” “Hell.” I don’t say anything for a moment. Gomez waits me out. “I’ll make sure she’s safe and then she’ll be out of my life. My world is no place for her and the baby.” He chuckles. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Didn’t work for me and I don’t see it working for you.”

I ignored their protests and handed the microphone to Maisie, saying, "Go ahead, Maisie—let everyone know exactly why you're the one standing here today." Maisie met my gaze with a faint smile and stated calmly, "I'm here today because Zoe paid me 100 thousand dollars to act as her stand-in for the wedding."

My screen was getting blurrier and blurrier, and all letters and words were kind of floating around like they were flying away. One moment I'm sitting down, and when I stand up, I spin so fast I lose my breath. I got such a bad wave of nausea, I grabbed the edge of my desk and held on until my hands were cold. Get it together, Sarah. Gabriel’s birthday is in two days. Ester’s wedding is coming up. You don’t get to fall apart right now. “Hey,” My assistant's voice reached me, gentle and hesitant. “You really don’t look okay. Maybe go home early?”

And for the first time in my life, I truly felt the weight of my father's legacy on my shoulders. The battle was over. The game was won. Now, the real work began. “Good morning everyone. I’m Catalina Gomez Marcellos…” The corner of my lips lifted. “The new Owner and CEO of the Gomez Enterprise.”

That was odd. Jasmine hovered over her laptop, typing furiously, trying to complete the day’s work. The frustration mounted as she couldn’t figure out the whereabouts of the man her boss needed to find. Her boss’s urgent request had her on edge, biting her lips in concentration. Suddenly, her phone dinged with a notification, and she shot up from her seat. “Finally,” she muttered breathing a sigh of relief. She’d just got an information from one of the people she hired that Dr Gomez would be present at the Houston Exhibition tomorrow evening.

Chapter 120 Just as she was thinking, her phone rang. It was Gomez. ‘Why is he callinggg?’ she thought. A bit offended and scared at the same time. “Hello, good evening Gomez” she greeted, her voice firm and soft. “Hey, Alexa, how are you doing?” “I'm fine Gomez… um…” “What's wrong?” “I just think it's a bit late… I had a long day, so…” “Oh, I understand. I only wanted to hear your voice” Gomez said.

We wait," I answered, going over to sit with her. I sat beside her and entwined our fingers. She chuckled. "Miss me?" She asked playfully, trying to cover up her pain. I remembered that comment Ace made about Gomez finding his green tea, he was referring to her. In other words, Gomez had been stalking her, masturbating about her, pining over her when he could have just talked to her. That also explained the gloves. How could he be so cruel? "Are you feeling okay?" "Yeah, just great." Her sarcasm was pretty obvious. "What Gomez said…"

The week before the third wedding, Alexander took me to dinner. It wasn't planned—he just showed up at my office after work on a Tuesday evening and said, "Come on. You need a break from wedding planning." I should have said no. I should have gone home to review seating charts and confirm vendor arrangements. But the truth was, I was exhausted. Exhausted from planning a third wedding, exhausted from the constant low-level anxiety that this one would fall apart too, exhausted from trying to convince myself that everything would be fine this time.