I look up at the waiter with a stern face; I don’t want to give him the wrong impression. “I’ll take the avocado & green leaf salad, hold the dressing.”
“And for you sir?” He turns to Tristan.
“Chicken caesar salad.” Tristan replies not taking his eyes off me, the waiter nods picks up the menus from our table and quickly scuttles away. “Seems I’m not your only admirer. Do you have any idea how attractive you are?” Tristan asks me.
I frown down at the table. If he had any idea of what I think of myself…?
“Tristan, there are thousands of women across the world that are far more attractive than I am.” I mumble, feeling shy that he said that.
“So you have self-esteem issues too?” He perceptively says. I choose to ignore it.
“Well the woman in Munchies couldn’t take her eyes off you either.” I answer smartly.
“It’s just a face.” He waves his hand in the air.
“Precisely,” I say agreeing completely.
Tristan shakes his head and takes a drink of his beer. “So what did you really think of the house?” he asks.
“I told you Tristan, I thought it was magical,” I say. I have no idea if we’ve actually come to any agreement, conclusion...
“Magical?” He beams.
“Yes.” I say feeling exasperated. How many times does he want me to say it?
“What if I said I wanted to buy it for you, for us?” I almost choke on the sip of water I’ve just taken.
“That’s not funny.” I bark, considering the conversation we’ve just had.
“It wasn’t a joke.” He counteracts, his face deadly serious.
“Are you frigging kidding me? Tristan did any of the conversation we just had register at all? You don’t know me, and you want to buy a house for me?”
“I want you to be happy.” He says with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Is that why you asked me to come with you today? To make sure I liked the house?”
“Yes.” Shit!
“Tristan,” I moan. My mind feels like it’s going to explode, too much information in one day. Tristan leans forward and takes hold of my hand, he looks like he’s trying to apologise.
“Hypothetically speaking. If we were dating and we moved in together, would you like that house?” Oh my God! I would love that house, but it’s impossible.
“Tristan...please, don’t make this any more difficult than it already feels.” I say pulling my hand away.
“Hypothetically speaking I said.” He says, waiting for my answer.
“Yes,” I whisper staring at my twisted hands. “I love the contemporary styled homes, the sea views are extraordinary and the fact that it has a swimming pool is just...” I laugh staring out the window. For a moment I imagine myself in the kitchen cooking something up, Tristan coming home, embracing me…
“Then I shall cancel the next appointment, there’s no point looking at it.” He states pulling me from my daydream.
“Why?” I question.
“Its old school, Edwardian. Lots of dark wood, small windows…” He answers artlessly, then reaches into his trouser pocket and pulls out his mobile. “You wouldn’t like it,” he adds pressing a number on his smart-phone. “Susannah, my appointment today at 2pm; cancel it please. Get Martin to make an offer on The Cliff, come in at one-five, and see where we go from there. I want this house...yes if I have to pay full price I will but, yes you got it…” Tristan smiles warmly, then listens for a moment. “Thank you.” He hangs up and places his mobile back in his trouser pocket.
“Please don’t tell me you are buying that house because of me.” I squirm, feeling totally uncomfortable.
“You like it,” he shrugs. “A man can dream,” he adds.
My jaw tenses, I shake my head at him.
“Look Coral, say for instance one day you change your mind, and I’m living somewhere that you hate. I’d have to go through the whole process all over again, and to be honest, I find it all a little...boring.” He admits.
I gasp in shock. “You find buying million pound houses boring?” I’m choking on my own words.
“It is when you’re doing it on your own,” he answers a little glumly. “Today was the best house hunting day I’ve ever had, watching your face light up as we went through each room was....magical,” he says, using my words, his eyes lighting up again. “You’ve made me declare my hand far too early Miss Stevens.” He growls playfully.
“So sorry to have done that to you Mr Freeman, but you’re living in a fantasy world.” I retort, and cross my arms to create some sort of barrier between us.
“Coral...I’m sorry, but I had to tell you how I feel. I’m already afraid of someone else coming along and you’ll say yes to them’ – “Tristan,” I interrupt. “Believe me when I say, there’s absolutely no chance of that happening, trust me.” I sigh.
“Hmm....well when I move in, I’ll be fantasising about you being there with me.....every day.” His eyes gleam wickedly at me, and I have to wonder exactly what kind of fantasies he’s conjuring up in his mind? I swallow hard not knowing what to say to that. “I’m sorry Coral, I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I just...” Tristan drifts off and I’m acutely aware that I’m in it, big time!
And for a tiny moment, I imagine what it would feel like to date him, have him give me his jacket in the winter, or feel his protective arm around me in a busy bar, or curling up together in the cinema room that we didn’t see watching a movie together eating popcorn, or – Stop! I can't allow myself to think sexually about him, it’s just too intense.
“Coral?” I look up at Tristan. “You look breathless and your eyes have dilated. Are you ok?” I pick up my water and take several gulps of it.
“I’m fine,” I say breathlessly. “So what now?” I ask feeling frustrated.
“Sorry?” Just as Tristan says that, the waiter appears with our meals.
“One avocado salad,” he says his eyes flirting with me, his body way too close to mine and places the plate in front of me. I frown at him in disapproval. Back off dude! “Without the dressing,” he adds far too seductively for my liking.
I immediately tense up, and I sense rather than see Tristan’s disapproval. The waiter then turns and places Tristan’s plate in front of him. “One chicken caesar salad,” he says smartly.
Leaning back in his chair with his forefinger pressed against his lips Tristan glares up at him. Whoa if looks could kill! The waiter looks back at him and cottons on pretty quickly that Tristan is not impressed, he quickly clears his throat.
“Will there be anything else sir?” he asks, his voice a little shaky.
“Yes, the manager.” Tristan snaps. The waiter hops from one foot to the other not knowing what do to, his cheeks flame bright red, and a layer of sweat appears across his top lip. I feel bad for him, he’s only a kid.
“Tristan, it’s ok, you don’t’ – “Now.” He barks to the waiter who scuttles off as quickly as he can. Uh-Oh!
“Tristan you really don’t need to’ – “He was making you uncomfortable, I could see that, and what’s more annoying is so could he. I hate blokes like that.” He says, then cuts a piece of chicken and starts chewing.
Moments later a woman in her mid fifties appears looking a little flustered. She smiles tentatively at me and I return the smile, picking at my salad. Tristan swallows, wipes his mouth with his napkin and stands, gesturing to the woman to walk with him. They only move a few feet away, enough so that I can’t hear what’s being said.
I frown as I watch Tristan, I can tell he’s annoyed, his hands moving around as he talks to the woman. As she listens to him, I watch her face go from pacified to her eyes widening, then an eyebrow cocking up and her jaw tensing, she does not look like a happy bunny. Her head is nodding as she listens to Tristan, and from my bad lip reading skills, I think she is apologising to Tristan.
Within moments he is back at the table, and without a word he sits down and tucks in
to his food. I can't believe he just did that, just because a waiter got a little flirty? Which makes me think how would he be if I actually did go out with him? I know there is absolutely no way I could go out with a control freak, that would drive me nuts and make me feel trapped. I pick at my salad, mainly eating the small chunks of avocado.
“Are you a control freak?” I blurt. Oh my God Coral, shut up!
Tristan freezes. “Excuse me?”
“Well, are you?” I repeat.
“No,” Tristan chuckles lightly. “You think because I made a complaint about a member of staff that I’m a control freak?” I shrug and don’t answer, feeling as though I’ve just dropped myself in it again.
“I just...will you tell me what you said to her?” I ask.
“No,” he retorts.
“Why not?” I grumble.
Tristan stops eating and eyes me carefully. “Does it matter?” He’s trying to reason with me?
“Yes, I want to know.” I squeak my voice a little higher than I want it to be.
“Why?” He questions.
I roll my eyes at him feeling frustrated again. “Honesty is something I value, highly.” I say.
“Me too,” he says and continues eating.
“Just tell me,” I snap, throwing down the gauntlet.
Tristan smirks, finishes chewing, uses his napkin and takes a long drink of beer. He’s teasing me! Prolonging the agony of not knowing, he doesn’t play fair.
“I’d like to go home.” I sulk, dropping my fork next to my plate, glaring at him venomously.
“Are you always this argumentative?” He asks, his eyes sparkling. Damn it!
“No...I’m not! I just...” I purse my lips and cross my arms. I decide the best thing to do is shut up, and wait for him to finish. He’s definitely not going to tell me. No-one’s ever wound me up this good, yet weirdly enough, fighting with Tristan feels kind of...Ok?
“Ok…if I tell you, will you agree to spend the day with me this Sunday?” He asks teasingly.
“No.” I snap.
“Not even as friends?” He asks smirking at me.
“No.” I pout feeling as though this is getting silly and way out of hand.
“Ok, if I tell you, can I come to your niece’s birthday party on Saturday?” What? Why would he want to hang around a bunch of screaming kids?
“No.” I answer with a nervous laugh.
“That’s a lot of no’s.” He says smirking at me.
“I’m done.” I say. Throwing my napkin on top of my plate, I pick up my bag and stomp out of the restaurant without looking back. The moment I’m outside I see the car, Stuart jumps out, looking behind me for Tristan and walks straight over to me.
“Miss Stevens?” I roll my eyes at him.
“Coral,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’d like to go home,” I state, my arms crossed, my foot tapping. Seconds later Tristan comes out of the restaurant, he nods to Stuart who immediately walks back to the car. Tristan stops when he reaches me, I glare up at him.
“I’m sorry. I thought we were having fun?” He says leaning into me and running a cool fingertip down my cheek.
“No, you were being cruel, not playing fair. I don’t like to be wound up Tristan.”
“I can see that.” He states.
My throat burns and my eyes sting, I feel like I could cry again - What is wrong with me today? I mean, I know I’m normally a little under the weather after a heavy night, but I think everyone is. Today I just feel like there’s a dam waiting to burst and I haven’t cried since...I close my eyes trying to push the feeling away, and take a few deep breaths.
“You’re a hard one to work out Coral.” Tristan murmurs.
“Back at you,” I whisper, keeping my eyes closed. This is crazy! I need to start avoiding him as much as possible, create an impenetrable thick glass wall between us. Be smart, and not get more involved than I already am. Maybe even get another job? Then I think about never seeing him again and I’m suddenly overtaken with a feeling of despair. I’m having a really hard time ignoring how I’m feeling for him. A fleeting thought passes through my mind of just going for it and sleeping with him, then I remember what my last sexual experience was like. I shiver internally. I haven’t been with a man since....
“Come back to me Coral,” he whispers against my ear, bringing me out of my reverie.
I open my eyes and stand there like a statue, staring up into his warm chocolate eyes. I can see now that I’m so close to him that he has tiny flecks of hazel in his eyes, and the blazing sun is making all his natural highlights shine brightly, burnt copper and a hint of reddish brown. I can’t decide which one I like best?
“Come on, let’s get you home.” Tristan says.
Home – It’s a strange word. What does it really imply? Is it the people that you love, a house, your hometown? Or is it a feeling? A sense of safety, belonging? I’ve never really known where home is, that is until now – I quickly push the thought aside and nod at Tristan, he puts his arm around my waist and we head back to the car.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
STUART DRIVES AWAY FROM THE RESTAURANT AND we head back to Brighton. I relax into the coolness of the leather seats.
“Are you going to tell me what you said to her?” I ask nicely.
Tristan turns to me and grins. “I told her that you’re a food and restaurant critique, and I was simply a friend joining you for lunch. And that I would try my very best to get you to change your mind about the awful review you were going to put up, simply because the waiter was rude and flirtatious.” He grins even wider, his dimples deepening.
I shake my head at him and start chuckling. “What did she say?” I ask.
“The meal was free, and that she would be having words with the waiter.” Tristan smiles back at me.
“That’s so cool,” I laugh. “What a great story to come up with. I may have to use that one in future.”
“You don’t like it when you don’t get your own way, do you?” He asks.
My face falls. “It’s not that, I just don’t like things being kept from me. I don’t like secrets.”
“It wasn’t a secret,” he argues.
“I know…I just wanted you to tell me.” I offer by way of explanation. “I’m sorry I walked out on you,” I add.
“Don’t be.” He answers.
“What are you doing for the rest of the day?” I ask casually. But what I really want to know is who he’ll be with?
“Working,” he tells me.
“You’re going back to the office?”
“No, the hotel.”
“Oh…is it nice?” I ask. Hoping he’ll tell me what hotel he’s staying in.
“Yes, I suppose it is,” he smirks at me his eyebrows raised - Of course it’s nice Coral!
I try to think of the best hotel in Brighton. I wonder if it is that one? “You wouldn’t be staying at The Hilton by any chance?” I ask dryly.
“Yes.” I raise my eyebrows in astonishment, I am right! And it is really nice; Debs had her wedding there.
“It’s a nice hotel.” I agree.
“You’ve been in there?” He asks a little confused.
“My step-sister had her wedding there, it was really lovely. The whole day was great, the food, the staff, and Debs said the Wedding suite was gorgeous.” I look across at Tristan. “Oh...let me guess you’re staying in a suite aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He sighs.
“Which one?” I giggle.
“The best one.” He shrugs.
“Really?” Oh to live in luxury!
“Yes, the double Hilton.” He sounds bored.
“Is that the top suite?” I ask teasing him.
“Yes.” He sighs again.
“If you don’t like hotels, why did you bother getting the best room?”
“I always book the best suite.” He answers bitterly. Ouch!
“Sorry.” I whisper.
“Let’s get you home,” he says. And for some
reason I know the conversation has ended for now, so I turn and look out of the window in brooding silence. We sit in silence for about ten minutes, when I suddenly realise what Tristan meant, ‘let’s get you home’ Shit, he’s taking me back to the Marina!
“Aren’t you going to ask me where I live?” I mutter to break the silence, knowing full well we are nearly there. Tristan silently shakes his head at me. God damn it! He knows where I live!
I remain silent for the rest of the journey.
WHEN STUART PULLS UP OUTSIDE THE GYM, I quickly unclip my seat belt, and I’m about to pull the door handle when Tristan’s hand covers mine, sending tingles all the way up my arm.
“Let me,” he mutters, and then jumps out. I watch him walk around the car and open my door for me, helping me out with his hand again. He shrugs out of his jacket, and leaning into Stuart he hands it to him, then he takes off his tie and hands him that too, muttering something as he does.
I watch in panic as Stuart pulls away, leaving me with Tristan who has taken his cufflinks off and is rolling up his sleeves.
“Aren’t you going with him?” I ask breathlessly.
“No.”
“Why not?” I question.
“I’d like to walk you home,” he says, unaffected by my brooding.
“Tristan, I’ve been living here for two years. I’m fine, this place is safe; I feel safe here.” I say defiantly.
“Still.” He shrugs unapologetically.
“No!” I bark and step away from him.
“You don’t want me to walk you home?” I shake my head at him. I don’t want him to see where I live, I know it would seem ridiculously small to him. Tristan moves closer to me again.
“I know you live in one of those floating studios Coral’ – “How?” I snap taking another step back.
Tristan backs off his hands in the air. “Joyce told me,” he states truthfully. “I wasn’t sneaking around asking Coral. I’m not some crazy weird stalker, although I could easily get your personal details from H.R.” He adds.
I sigh heavily, of course he could, but he didn’t. Then I think he will soon have access to every member of staff’s personal file, so it’s inevitable that he’s going to know where it is, eventually!
CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1) Page 16