by K. M. Scott
His hand touched mine and I was torn from my thoughts on wealthy people and their wild parties. "You thought I'd been with her, didn't you?"
I looked at the woman sucking her boyfriend's cock and then looked at Tristan. "Yes. Since I know nothing about you before I met you, I did."
He lifted my hand to his mouth and softly kissed my palm. Looking up at me, he smiled. "She's not my type."
"Why? Because she's blonde?"
"No, because she likes to fuck in front of people so she can get off. I tend to like my women a little less attention whore."
I couldn't tell if his tone was sharp because I'd asked if he'd been with her or because he had no respect for her. Either way, I felt better knowing at least he hadn't slept with her.
Tristan pulled a chair out from the corner of the room and sat down, motioning for me to join him. "Come sit on my lap, Nina. I want you to tell me how this makes you feel."
I sat down on his lap and noticed that he wasn't aroused. He pulled my face toward his and kissed me hard, sending a rush of excitement through my body.
"Don't you like watching them?" I asked as I ran my palm over the front of his pants.
His tongue slid over his lip, and he grinned. "It does nothing for me."
"Me neither," I lied. In truth, he did it for me. I couldn't have cared less if the people doing their sex act disappeared and never came back.
Sliding his hand slowly up my leg, he gently stroked the tender skin of my inner thigh. "Nina, watch them. I want you to show me in your painting what it makes you feel."
I leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Watching them fuck doesn't make me feel anything, Tristan. You make me feel."
He closed his eyes and exhaled again. "Then paint what I make you feel, Nina."
I stood and walked to the easel to begin painting how he made me feel. I dipped my paintbrush first into red and then blue, pushing it swiftly across the canvas as I let my emotions come out for him to see. The frustration of always wanting more. The need he created in me to make him as happy as he made me. The fear that our differences were too great and would someday tear us apart. They all came out in the reds and blues that filled the picture.
His stare felt hot on my back, and I turned to see him watching me, intently interested in my work. Could he see how much he affected me and how much I wanted him? Was my painting telling him everything I so wished I could?
I looked up over my easel to see the couple had moved to full out fucking, but Tristan remained focused on me. He gave me a smile that nearly melted my insides. "Feeling the muse?"
"Yes," I answered shyly, timid he might disapprove of my work.
"Can I see?"
"Not yet."
My paintbrush continued its dance through the colors as I blurred the lines and edges to soften the ribbons of feeling he created in me. Finally, I dipped my brush into warm brown paint and began to form the abstract images of his eyes, always on me, watching me. Showing me the tenderness I believed existed deep within him.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him stand from his chair and walk toward me. Unsure of how he'd judge my feelings, I raised my arms to hide my work, but he moved around me and slid his arms around my waist.
In my ear, he said low and hoarse, "Tell me what you feel, Nina."
I wanted so much to tell him how he made me feel, but all I could do was let my painting speak for me. Turning my attention to the couple to avoid Tristan's critical eye, I held my breath as he studied the colors and hues of my emotions.
He pulled me to him and softly placed kisses over my neck. "The colors are beautiful, Nina. Tell me what I should see."
"The reds and blues represent my frustration and fear. I try to understand why you keep me at arm's length, but I can't. Then I fear we're too different and at the end of our time together or even before you'll cast me aside with a one-syllable word and whatever we are will be over."
He kissed my cheek and leaned his head against mine. "Why are the colors blurred?"
Shyly, I answered, "Because I can't express myself clearly when you're around."
Tristan turned me in his arms to face him. Looking deep into my eyes, he asked, "And the brown smudges?"
I let myself get lost in his gaze. "Your eyes. They can be so kind and gentle when you look at me before you kiss me or give me one of your gentle smiles. They make me believe there's more to the man who so often seems to hold me at arm's length. But they watch me always, making me ask questions that anger you and make you leave me alone."
He was silent after my confession, and my hands shook in fear that I'd said too much, revealed too much too soon and ruined everything. He cupped my cheek, and I leaned into his strong hand. "So honest all the time, my Nina."
Pulling me to him, Tristan held me close as he stroked my hair and kissed me tenderly on the lips. In the next room, the couple continued to writhe and grind against one another, but we stood silently in each other's arms and I felt more beautiful at that moment than at any other time in my life.
Chapter Seven
Tristan promised to have my painting framed and hung in his bedroom, thrilling me more than I thought was possible. I wasn't a painter, in truth, but it was a true expression of my feelings for and about him, and that he appreciated that meant the world to me.
That night, after he'd had Rogers send the couple home, he asked me to stay with him in his room and we made love again. When I finally fell asleep with my head on his chest, I was exhausted but happier than I could imagine I'd be with him.
As before, I woke up alone in his bed, already missing him. This time he'd left a note on his pillow, and I groggily focused my eyes to read what it said.
Dear Nina,
I have to go away for a few days, but I've instructed Rogers to get your painting framed so I can see it every morning when I wake. I'm sorry I had to leave before you got up, but I didn't want to disturb you since you looked so sweet all curled up next to me. While I'm gone, my car and driver are at your disposal. Feel free to use them to go wherever you like. When I return, your first official assignment as an assistant curator will begin.
Love,
Tristan
I held the paper in my trembling hands and stared at the last two words he'd written. Love, Tristan. Love. Not always, as before. Love.
Was this all a dream?
It had only been about a week since we'd first met. Was it possible there was such a thing as love at first sight and he'd felt that about me? I wanted to believe that more than anything, but something inside me whispered the doubt that anyone could fall in love that quickly, especially someone who could have anyone he wanted.
Times like this required a heart-to-heart girl talk with Jordan. I hurriedly ran to my room and then jumped in the shower to get ready for my trip back to Brooklyn. As I fixed my hair and makeup, I realized I hadn't thought about the trip as going home but going to Jordan's.
I, too, seemed to have become lost in my feelings.
Jenson was as accommodating as he was supposed to be, and by lunchtime I was back at our apartment and looking forward to hashing things out with Jordan. With school's ending, she was on summer vacation, so we had all the time we needed to figure out if I'd somehow won the romantic equivalent of the lottery or was just fooling myself into thinking that my situation with Tristan was good when it was anything but.
I threw my purse on the kitchen table and yelled for Jordan. Her scream from down the hall told me she was home and I found her in the bathroom cleaning smeared streaks of black from her eyelids.
"Jesus, Nina! I look like a damn raccoon now. Who walks into a person's house and screams like that?"
Three tissues later, she was back to finishing her makeup and I said in my best pouty tone, "Sorry. I thought this was still my place too."
Turning to face me, she smiled. "It is. I just got a little freaked out when you yelled. I wasn't expecting you since he came by and paid your part of the rent for the rest of the year."
The look on her face—complete with raised eyebrows of disbelief—told me she was just the person I needed to talk about things with. If there was any tough love I needed to hear, Jordan would give it to me.
"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean I would never come back. I need some friend time pronto and you're the only one I can trust."
Concern clouded her gaze. Reaching out, she squeezed my arm gently. "What happened, Nina? Are you okay?"
Nodding, I smiled. "I'm fine, but I want to stay that way. Can we talk?"
"Yeah, of course. Let's go for a walk. It's a beautiful day, so it'll feel good."
I agreed, happy I wore flats instead of the cute little pumps I had grabbed first. After listening to all the latest news about Justin, I set out with her for our walk and more importantly, our heart-to-heart.
Sunset Park in the summer was a pretty place, not like what people think big cities look like at all. The trees were all in bloom, so there was far more green than one might expect in the concrete jungle. Jordan and I walked our usual route, enjoying the weather as I told her about my new job and all its great benefits.
"So you hit the jackpot? This is great!"
I bit my lower lip. Tilting my head right and left, I said, "Yes and no. That's what I need your keen insight for."
Jordan stopped and raised one eyebrow. "I know that lip thing. Something's gnawing at you. And what's this yes and no? I've seen this man in the flesh, my friend. It's a yes. I nearly fell over dead when he showed up at the apartment. The watch that he wears alone is worth more than anything I've ever driven. And the way he says things...it's like honey dripping out of a jar."
I couldn't help but blush. Tristan was stunning, and when he stood in front of someone dressed in a suit and tie, he made quite an impression. There was no doubt about that. His physical side was a resounding "Yes!" without a doubt. It was the other parts of him that I wasn't sure about.
"He does have a way when he speaks, although I'm thinking he might have said more to you than to me by the way you're talking."
We began to walk again. "Oh, he didn't say much at all, but there's something about how the words come out. You have to tell me, Nina. Does he sound that sexy when you're...alone?"
"Since I have to assume he didn't tell you we're sleeping together, I guess it's that obvious?" I asked, wondering if I was telegraphing the fact that I was actively having sex with him.
Jordan turned her head to look at me for a second and then turned back to face forward, wrinkling her nose a bit. "Actually, it was the way he acted. No man comes to pay a woman's rent for six months and arrange to take everything she owns to his house if he isn't sleeping with her, Nina. You're obviously making him happy."
Happy. Now that was the tricky part. I sighed and blew the air out of my lungs in a heavy breath. "That's the problem I need your help with."
"You aren't going to say he's not happy with you, are you? You've been dating for less than a week and already he's taking care of you like you're a kept woman. Seems pretty happy to me."
"I'm not sure he is happy. I'm not sure about much of anything where Tristan Stone's concerned, Jordan. He had me sign a contract that I thought was for the job as an assistant curator at his hotel downtown, but I haven't done any work in that area yet. He bought me a new wardrobe for the job that literally cost nearly ten thousand dollars, Jordan, but he picked out all the clothes himself."
Pressing her hands to above her heart, she said, "I think I'm in love."
I stopped her and grabbed her arm. "I'm serious. I think I'm being paid to be his sex slave."
Jordan's laugh was so loud the children playing nearby stopped to pay attention to us. I guess it sounded funny now that I'd said it out loud.
"Sex slave? Nina, you're his girlfriend. That's how he's supposed to act. Girlfriends of wealthy men always have honorary titles and things like that. You're not expected to actually work."
I leaned in close to her and whispered, "Then what am I getting paid for?"
Jordan laughed again. "Honey, this is how wealthy men are. Think of it as an allowance. Instead of the kind you got when you were a kid, when you had to clean your room and do the dishes, this is the kind where you make him happy and he makes you happy with his money."
"But that's the problem. I don't think I'm making him happy. He goes to events and never asks me. I seem to be only the woman he keeps around his house."
"Hmmm....well, I don't think you're getting a bad deal. His driver takes you places, he does nice things for you, and you like him, don't you?"
I more than liked him. What had begun as an infatuation quickly had blossomed into something much more for me and I hoped for him too. I wanted to believe he meant what he'd written in that note, but I wasn't sure.
"Jordan, he's not like anyone else I've ever dated. Sometimes I can barely get him to answer me with more than a yes or no. Then he's affectionate sometimes only to be distant at other times. I don't know what to think."
She stopped and grabbed me by the shoulders. "That's your problem, Nina. You're overthinking this. What's wrong with a man giving you everything you want and all you have to do is be what he wants in return? Isn't that what everyone wants?"
When she explained it that way, it all sounded so perfect. He made me happy. I made him happy. Everyone was happy.
Then why were those niggling doubts in my mind still sending up red flags?
"Here's the thing," she said as she began walking back toward the apartment. "The whole relationship is brand new. Give it a while and see what happens. I think you might be pleasantly surprised. Good things do happen to good people. I think you're proof of that."
"I can't just give it a while, Jordan. I signed a contract for the next six months."
"And for that what do you get paid?"
"Sixty."
Jordan smiled. "Honey, you're getting paid sixty grand and you get to live with Tristan Stone. I think you should be more concerned about convincing him to keep you for longer than just six months."
"Maybe that's it. What happens if I fall madly in love with him and he decides to get rid of me after the time is up?"
"If you fall madly in love? I can tell by your face now, Nina, that's already happened. And I wouldn't be surprised to find out that he's crazy about you too. Just enjoy this. It's not everyday that a girl like you or me gets a guy like that. Let it ride and when the time is up, who knows what might happen."
I blushed at her ability to see through my facade, but my talk with her had helped, even if just a little. Looking at her, I saw out of the corner of my eye Jenson standing at the car waiting for me. "I guess it's time to go."
Jordan gave the man the once over and turned back to face me. "He certainly does like to know what you're up to, doesn't he? This poor guy hasn't been more than a few feet from us the whole time."
"What do you mean?" I asked as I looked over at the driver again as he patiently leaned against the car.
"Nina, he followed us the whole time. I didn't say anything because I figured you knew."
"Of course I didn't know! Who does that?"
Jordan leaned in and hugged me tightly. In my ear, she whispered, "I told you. Wealthy people are different. If he can't watch you, he'll have one of his men do it. I wouldn't worry. At least you'll never get mugged."
Her joking didn't make what I was feeling any better. "I'll call you, okay? I'm just glad you have some extra money now. Tell Justin I said hi."
"I will, honey. And I'll tell Alex you're doing fine. He's asked about you at least five times this week."
I smiled. Alex was a decent guy, so it wasn't a bad thing that he was interested. "Tell him I said hi and I'll be looking for a rematch of our pool game sometime."
Jordan's face grew serious. "Remember what I said, Nina. Good things do happen to good people. Don't forget that."
"I won't."
I returned to Tristan's house upstate hoping he'd be back, even though his note had said he'd be go
ne for a few days. The place was lonely without him, and I missed him already as I wandered around looking for something to occupy my time.
Rogers didn't seem to be anywhere to be found, so I explored without restraint, finding a media room and even a game room with a pool table. An hour or so of shooting pool by myself and I was even lonelier. Even the stoic butler would have been welcome company.
The house had an empty feel to it with just me in it. I'd never been to the attic, so I roamed up to the top floor and after looking around at a bunch of boxes and trunks, found one of those heavy, black old-fashioned telephones. On a whim, I picked up the receiver and heard a dial tone. There wasn't another landline in the entire house, but this one telephone sat up here all alone and worked!
Unsure if I should use it, I looked around and saw I was still alone. My cell phone got no reception out here, so I took the opportunity to dial my sister's number and heard her phone begin to ring. It was a small thing, but a rush of excitement pulsed through me. It felt like I was in one of those old mysteries and had found something no one else knew about.
"Hello?" she said loud and clear.
"Kim?" I whispered. "It's Nina."
"Nina! I tried to call you two days ago. It went directly to voicemail. Are you okay?"
Looking around, I said, "I'm fine. My phone's been acting up. How are you?"
My sister was married with two beautiful children and lived in a quiet suburban neighborhood outside of Philadelphia. I hadn't seen my two nieces for months and just hearing Kim's voice made me wish I was there to see them.
"We're all good. Jeff's doing well at the firm, and you know the girls. Growing like weeds. They've been asking about their Aunt Nina, about when she's coming to see them again."
A lump formed in my throat. "I know. I've just been really busy. I promise I won't let so much time go by between calls, Kim."
"What's wrong, Nina? Your voice sounds so sad."
Kim's voice reminded me of my father. She had a way of phrasing things that sounded just like him. Neither of them would think what I was doing with Tristan was right, and they'd let me know about it. I didn't want to hear that, but I would have given anything to talk to him again.