by Claire Adams
“I really don’t think you should be so worried about telling Jason about us,” I said. “I don’t think he would care.”
“Please,” Tristan said, shaking his head. “He was always so protective of you.”
“You’re reading too much into that.”
“I don’t think I am,” he said. “He hated all of your boyfriends.”
“I had only two.”
“And, he hated both of them with a passion,” he insisted. “Come to think of it, so did I.”
I smiled. “You remember my boyfriends?”
“Of course,” he nodded. “The gangly idiot with the red hair and the bulky moron with the blond hair.”
I laughed. “Joseph and Simon,” I said. “Simon was a moron, I’ll give you that, but Joseph was a sweetheart.”
“He looked at you like a piece of meat.”
“Do I sense a little jealousy?”
“You sense a lot of jealousy,” he replied, without reservation.
I smiled happily. “I was much younger during both those relationships, and Jason wasn’t inclined to like strangers right off the bat. He has known you forever.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Which means he knows my history. He knows the number of women I’ve been with, and he knows every single romantic mistake I’ve made since I started dating. He’s not going to want that guy dating his little sister.”
I pursed my lips. “Well, he doesn’t really get a say in the matter,” I insisted firmly. “We’re not asking for his permission or his blessing. We’re simply telling him what has happened. If he doesn’t like it, then tough.”
“Easy for you to say.”
I laughed. “Are you sure you won’t let me tell him?”
“No way,” Tristan said immediately. “No way; he’s going to think I’m a complete coward for hiding behind you. I’m sleeping with his sister. The least I can do is be man enough to tell him myself.”
I sighed. “Okay, suit yourself. But don’t you think you should do it soon?”
He groaned. “I’ll get around to it,” he said reluctantly. “So…I always meant to ask you, what did you see in Simon?”
I laughed. “Are you changing the subject?”
“Definitely,” Tristan nodded. “But I’m also curious.”
I shook my head at him. “Simon was…persistent,” I said. “And usually even persistence doesn’t work on me, but for some reason, I let myself be convinced. I actually think it had a lot to do with you.”
“Me?” Tristan repeated.
“You and Jason had dropped by for dinner the week before, and you were full of stories about your latest flame,” I said. “I guess I got jealous and lonely and when Simon pursued me, it made me feel better. So we dated for a couple of months, and that was that.”
“What happened there?”
“The same thing that happened with Joseph,” I said honestly. “They both wanted to take things to the next level and I… I just wasn’t ready.”
“Meaning they wanted sex.”
“Yes.”
“Not that I’m not thrilled you stuck to your guns and said no, but why did you say no?” he asked curiously.
I smiled, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I told you, I always thought of sex as being something special and important that you share with someone you love. I didn’t love Simon or Joseph, so I couldn’t justify sleeping with either of them. Whenever I considered it…” I trailed off.
“Yes?”
I pushed back my blush and continued. “Whenever I considered it, I kept thinking of you,” I admitted. “It just didn’t feel right to sleep with one man while you were fantasizing about another.”
Tristan’s smile was both thrilled and teasing. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear you say that.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t get too cocky.”
“Too late,” he replied. “You know, I really like that I was your first.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “You would,” I said. “What number was I?”
Tristan’s smile faltered a little. “Um…is that really necessary information for you to have?”
“Ballpark?”
“It’s definitely less than a ballpark.”
I laughed, but a part of me felt slightly uneasy. I knew enough of Tristan’s romantic history to know that he had played the field in college and even afterward. I also knew that he had never committed to one woman for any significant length of time and wondered if I was expecting too much of him. I knew it was naïve of me to assume that my love for him alone might be enough for him to change, but I hoped.
I wondered if that hope would see us through or if it would end up breaking me. I had experienced enough to know that hope was as intoxicating as it was treacherous.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tristan
“Where’s Ben?” I demanded, just as he turned the corner. “Ah never mind, he’s here. Where have you been?”
“There was a situation by the west pool,” he said darkly. I could tell by his expression that he was upset by it.
“What happened?”
“Mr. Beaumont,” Ben told me. “He’s one of the tycoons who arrived a few days ago with his wife. He was ordering cocktails all morning by the pool and got drunk.”
“How drunk?”
“Drunk enough to get a little fresh with Nakoma, the waitress who brought him his ninth cocktail.”
“I assume his wife was not around?”
“She was at the spa, getting a full body massage,” Ben replied. “She doesn’t know about the incident.”
“Is it handled?”
“Molly’s seeing to Nakoma now,” he said. “She’s a little shaken up. She’s young, and this is her first job.”
“And Mr. Beaumont?” I asked, with distaste.
“The cad’s too drunk to hold a conversation,” he replied. “I cut him off and escorted him back to his suite. Once he sleeps it off, I doubt he’ll remember much.”
I sighed. “I wish there were a manual on how to deal with unruly guests.”
“If only,” he sighed, then he looked around as we entered the massive lobby together. “Have they arrived yet?”
“I’m told the Japanese delegation has arrived,” I told Ben. “I’m going to need you to welcome them on my behalf. I need to see to Trent Davis and his group; they just arrived via helicopter.”
Ben nodded. “The Davis party has been jotted down for three rooms.”
“He’s bringing some friends,” I nodded. “Ah, there they are.”
Ben nodded to me and headed off to welcome in the Japanese delegation, while I made my way towards Trent. Trent had gone to college with Jason and me. Even though we weren’t very close, we had partied together enough times to qualify as friends. Since graduation, I had run into him only a few times, but we’d always supported each other’s business ventures, which was why I assumed he was here.
It had been over two years since we’d last met, and I realized that time had not been kind to him. He had a visible potbelly and was balding slightly. He was still an impressive-looking man, but I knew that in a few years he would look like the spitting image of his overweight and bald father.
“Trent,” I greeted, shaking his hand. “It’s good to see you.”
“And you,” he said excitedly. “Man, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“Can’t say that I can say the same about you,” I teased.
He patted his belly. “What can I say?” he laughed. “We can’t all look as svelte as you.”
“Trent,” a skinny blonde said, appearing next to him. “Introduce us to your friend.”
“Fuck, right,” he said. “Everyone, this is my friend and the owner of this fine establishment, Tristan Dubois. Tristan, these are my friends from work, Ella, Jimmy, Trey, Dominic, and Jennifer.”
As my eyes fell on Jennifer, I felt a little spasm of surprise combined with instant dread. She looked the same. She still had a great body, good tan, lon
g blonde hair, and seductive eyes that she had highlighted with just the right amount of makeup. She was wearing high heels, paired with a bright slinky dress that had tropical vibes about it.
“You don’t have to introduce us, Trent,” Jennifer said, and her tone was slightly biting. “Tristan and I go way back.”
“Oh?” Trent said as his eyes went wide with interest as he looked between us.
I kept my face calm and composed as I gave Jennifer a smile. “That’s right; we’re old friends.”
“Friends?” she repeated. I could tell she was still bitter about our breakup. “Is that how you refer to all your ex-girlfriends?”
I saw amused smirks and raised eyebrows from her group of friends and Trent let out a guffaw of laughter. “Some things never change, huh, Tristan?” he said, punching me on the arm. “I had no idea you were one of his many, many girlfriends, Jen.”
“Apparently, I was,” Jennifer said, smiling forcibly at Trent before turning to me. “You’ve done well for yourself. No surprise, considering that work was always your first priority.”
“Do I sense some hostility behind your smile, Jen?” the dark-haired girl in their group asked jokingly.
“Hostility?” Jennifer repeated. “Why would I be hostile? Every girl loves being treated like a second-class citizen.”
Trent whistled, and there was a tittering of nervous laughter from the group. “Uh…why don’t we check you guys in,” I said smoothly, flagging down Steven. “Let me get you some drinks, too.”
“That’s a great idea,” Trent nodded. “I think Jennifer might need something iced to cool her down.
She shot Trent a glare as I pointed the group towards the check-in counters. Trent and his friends followed Steven to the reception counter, but Jennifer stayed behind. I could see that there were daggers beneath her smile.
“So, it’s been awhile since we last saw each other,” she said.
“Uh yes, it has.”
“Do you even remember how long?”
“Two years?”
“Four,” she said curtly.
“Wow,” I said. “That long, huh.”
“You did everything you set out to do,” she said, looking around at the resort.
“Does that piss you off?” I asked, without bothering to be subtle.
Jennifer smiled. “A little,” she nodded.
I laughed, appreciative of her honesty. “I’m sorry about how things ended with us, Jennifer.”
“Please,” she replied. “You were not sorry then, and you’re not sorry now. You’re just saying that because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”
“At least I have that going for me.”
She pursed up her lips. “You have a lot going for you,” she said. “That’s never been your problem.”
“I have a feeling that if I ask what my problems are, I’ll get a list that’ll be a little too detailed.”
She smiled. “Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”
I wondered why she was asking me the question. Was it simple curiosity or did she have some hidden agenda? I was on the precipice of mentioning Molly when I changed my mind at the last moment. After all, Jennifer was an old girlfriend who wasn’t exactly my greatest fan. I didn’t want her causing problems while she was here, and I certainly didn’t want her knowing too much about my personal life.
“No one important enough to mention,” I said, employing a callous tone.
“I see that you haven’t changed.”
“You were lucky to get away.”
Jennifer didn’t look particularly amused. She looked around the resort with a critical eye. “You helped design this building, didn’t you?”
“How did you know?”
“Because I took the time to get to know you while we were dating, Tristan,” she replied scathingly. “Not that you ever returned the favor.”
“Well,” I said, changing my tone and the topic, as well. “I really hope you enjoy your stay here.”
“Oh, I have no doubt you’ll be able to show me a good time,” Jennifer replied. “You were always good at that. It was the committing part of things that always tripped you up.”
I suppressed a sigh and steered her back towards her little group of friends. “Why don’t you help yourself to a drink from the refreshment cart?” I suggested, motioning for Steven to come forward with the cart.
I was trying to back away from her slowly when Trent approached me. “We’re all checked in,” he said.
“Excellent,” I nodded.
“So…” he said, glancing over towards Jennifer. “You and Jennifer, huh?”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Didn’t end well?”
“Did any of my relationships?”
He laughed. “Good point,” he nodded. “I would have thought you’d have settled down by now, though.”
“What made you think that?”
He shrugged. “Age, wisdom…the need for something real.”
“You’ve got philosophical since we last met,” I joked.
He laughed. “It passes the time,” he said. “And pisses people off. Which is just an added bonus. Anyway, thanks, man. Will we be seeing you around?”
I glanced at Jennifer. “I think for your sake, I’d better make myself scarce.”
Trent gave me a conspiratorial wink and waved goodbye as I walked away. I headed up to my office, thankful to be free from Jennifer’s accusing gaze. I made a mental note to avoid Trent and his party for the duration of their stay.
My office was empty when I walked in, so I took the opportunity to pour myself a strong cup of coffee. I sat down and swiveled around to face my fantastic view. My thoughts rewound back to four years ago when Jennifer and I had first begun dating.
She hadn’t been quite so blunt during that period. In fact, she had been extremely fun. We had great chemistry, and the sex was pretty good, too. But inevitably, my work had kept me so busy that I started to bail on her more and more often. I’d been forced to cancel dates, disappear right after sex, and cut short dinners because of some emergency or another.
Now that I thought about it, Jennifer and I hadn’t even been together that long, four, five months tops. And yet, she’d had certain expectations. I’d realized later that she had earmarked me as the man she was going to marry. She had just forgotten to factor in how demanding my work really was, and after a while, she started getting impatient about playing second fiddle to my career.
When she had confronted me about it, I had told her that if I had to choose between her or my work, I would choose my work any day. In hindsight, I probably should have softened my words a little, but I’d had a hard day and was frustrated and annoyed.
She had stormed out of my penthouse apartment, and we hadn’t spoken for several days. When Jennifer appeared on my doorstep about a week later, I realized that what I had thought was a breakup, she had assumed was simply a fight. So, I’d had to make it clear to her that I wasn’t interested in continuing a relationship with her. She had left in a storm of anger, but not before breaking a few of my things. I was extremely glad to be an un-sentimental person that day.
My thoughts wandered from Jennifer to Molly. There were days when I felt I was finally growing up and changing, and there were days that I felt like the same wayward college kid who could never commit to one woman. Things felt different with Molly, but I wasn’t sure how long that was going to last.
Molly had been in love with me since she was fourteen years old. A part of me was intensely flattered by that, but it also terrified the life out of me. What if I ended up hurting her like I had hurt every girl that had come before her? The pressure was building, and I wasn’t sure if it was coming from her or me.
I was ruminating on my current circumstances when my phone distracted me. The moment I saw the name Emma flashing on the screen, I groaned. Just what I needed, I thought, another conversation with a woman who very likely had a problem with me.
“Hi, Emma,” I s
aid, picking up. “It’s been awhile.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Molly
“Where are we going?” I asked excitedly.
We had spent fifteen minutes in a car driving along Oahu’s lesser-traveled roads. All the while, Tristan had refused to tell me where we were heading. It was nice to sit in the front seat of his convertible, with his hand wrapped around my shoulders. We probably looked like a still out of an old movie, and the thought amused me.
“You’re not going to tell me?” I asked.
He laughed. “I had no idea you were so impatient.”
It was a glorious Sunday, but it was the first time in weeks that I’d gotten to enjoy a weekend. Tristan and I had been working around the clock, and when I did manage to carve out a little free time, he was always busy. So this morning when I had woken up, I had been surprised to see him sitting at the foot of the bed with a huge smile on his face.
He had told me to get dressed because he had a surprise for me. Twenty minutes later, we were driving away from the resort in Tristan’s vintage blue convertible. He had kept quiet about where we were going, and a part of me was intrigued and excited to be left in the dark.
“I can be sometimes,” I nodded.
“Well, you won’t have to wait long now,” he said as he pulled up on the outskirts of the beach.
We got down, and he walked around to me and took my hand. “Ready?”
“We’re going down to the beach?”
“I suppose we are,” he nodded, as he led the way.
“Are we swimming?” I wondered out loud.
“This particular side of the beach is not ideal for swimming,” he said as we stepped onto the soft, warm sand.
Thankfully, I had chosen to wear my flip-flops and a comfortable sundress. “I’m not sure I packed my swimsuit,” I said, biting my lip.
“You won’t need a swimsuit,” he assured me.
We walked down the sloping beach where the waves were lapping against the shore. There were a couple of locals wading in the clear blue water next to a bright yellow motorboat.
“Mr. Tristan!” one of the men called as we approached.
“Akoni,” Tristan waved. “Is everything ready?”