“Really? What would you do if I gave you an unlimited account at a travel agency?”
Rogue’s eyes widen for a split second before a shrewd look crosses her face. “Well, the first thing I would do would be to clarify your definition of unlimited. Does it apply to only me? Is it for a specified period of time? Can it be applied to a group? Can the group be amorphous? There are a lot of things to consider,” she says with a teasing smirk.
“I could’ve sworn you told me you were an art major, not prelaw,” I quip. “But, just for the sake of this hypothetical, let’s say I’m all in. Now what?” I ask, curious about where she’s going to take this.
“In that case, there are so many choices that it’s mind-boggling,” she answers becoming animated. “I’d be tempted to head down to a homeless shelter and ask if anyone would like to go home and be reunited with their families. It would also be great to fun to go to all the foster programs and treat all the kids to vacations at any theme park they wanted to go to with all the junk food they could possibly eat. Maybe I’d meet with military family support groups and offer to reunite the families for a surprise visit with their loved ones for Christmas. If I had no restrictions on travel, I could work with some nursing homes and bring some out-of-town relatives to visit their patients who are always alone,” Rogue suggests. “See, you might be sorry you let me get started; you might’ve created a monster.”
I’m absolutely humbled by Rogue’s choices. I have a whole team of people in charge of my money, yet none of them have come up with as many great ideas as she’s rattled off in the last twenty-seconds. Even more telling to me is that not one of those requests benefits her personally. As if I needed one more reason to find her irresistible, she’s given me about half a dozen.
“Monster?” I reply, “I don’t see a monster. I see the most generous person I’ve seen in a while. Yet, I can’t help but notice that you conspicuously left yourself off of the list.”
Rogue blushes as she mumbles, “Well, that’s okay. Between my work and school commitments, I don’t really have time to travel anyway, so it’s better not to even think about it.”
“Hey now, this is pie-in-the-sky hypothetical fantasy stuff. You’re not allowed to let real world problems drag you down in hypothetical land. It’s a violation of the rules. Everything is happy in hypothetical land. Consider it an open-ended ticket.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you, but you’re probably going to think I’m a total nerd,” she confesses, sheepishly.
A loud bark of laughter escapes before I have a chance to self-sensor. “Rogue, I write computer code and I have a chess game set up in my living room —not a decorative one, a regular chess set—one that gets regular use. Does it really seem like I would be in a position to judge?” I ask.
A grin tugs at her lips. “Well, when you put it like that, perhaps mine doesn’t look so silly by comparison. I’ve always wanted to go to the Louvre and see all the famous artwork. I’ve also never flown first class. Not that I’d ever make a habit of it, but it seems like something you’d want to check off your bucket list. I just want to see what it’s like to be treated like you’re the most important person in the room,” she admits.
Chuckling, I reply. “Trust me, flying first class on an international flight is entirely worthwhile. It’s one of those luxuries you might not want to forgo once you’ve had a taste.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll ever have to worry about that. If I ever got to go anywhere like the Louvre, it would be a once-in-a-lifetime trip for me. It would mean I won the lottery or I was going on my honeymoon,” Rogue explains. “A normal person doesn’t just take those trips on a whim. Those are the kind of trips you take to celebrate a momentous occasion. That’s why my trip to the Louvre is staying firmly in fantasyland, because in reality it’s never really going to happen.”
“I don’t know about that. Going to Paris on a random Tuesday is a seriously underrated little nugget of happiness. You can never stop dreaming big, because one little thing can change your whole life.”
Rogue smirks at me as she retorts, “Well yeah, if you’re some brainiac computer whiz who invents some amazing computer program. But I’m studying art at Santa Fe College so I can be a tattoo artist. In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a tattoo artist on every corner. People are even ordering tattoo gear off of Amazon and holding their own tattoo parties. Everybody thinks they can do it now. There’s a long road between me and greatness.”
“Something tells me you’re pretty stubborn—” I tease.
Rogue does something that catches me completely off guard. She makes a funny face and sticks her tongue out at me. It shouldn’t be sexy, but in an odd way it is. All I can think of is kissing those amazing lips and playing with that tongue.
“So mature too,” I add in response to her gesture. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. I just meant that you seem tenacious enough to reach your goals. You’re very compassionate, so I bet you’re an amazing artist.”
Rogue’s eyes tear up and she buries her head in my chest as she mumbles, “Tristan, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has said in a really long time. Not everybody gets that.”
Just then, a loud voice bellows across the patio, “What the hell did you do to her?”
Rogue jumps out of my arms and stands up quickly. She places her hands on her hips and barks an order at the guy marching toward me.
Instinctively I shoot to my feet and step in front of her to protect her from the guy with fire in his eyes. But, she is having none of it. She brushes me aside and pokes him right in the chest.
“Marcus Taylor Brolen, back the hell up! Tristan was not hurting me. Not that it’s any of your business, but Tristan actually said something really nice to me.”
Marcus gives me the evil eye as he addresses Rogue, “If he wasn’t hurting you, why do you have raccoon eyes?”
Rogue gasps as she licks her thumbs and starts wiping under her eyes.
I lean over and murmur in her ear, “Relax, he’s exaggerating. Until he pointed it out, I didn’t even notice. You still look beautiful to me.”
Rogue looks up at me with her amber colored eyes and smiles. She mouths the word “Thank you,” before she turns to Marcus.
Rogue walks up to him and pokes him in the chest. “I’ve been crying. Women do that. Last I checked, it’s a free country and I have the right to be emotional. If you’d had the day I’ve been having, you’d be emotional too, so stop being a jerk.”
Obviously I missed something. Maybe it had to do with their earlier conversation, but all things considered, I didn’t think his reaction was all that out of bounds. After all, he did find his best friend in the arms of a total stranger and she does look a little worse for wear.
I walk over to Marcus and stick out my hand as I say, “Hey, I’m Tristan.”
Grudgingly, he nods and shakes my hand. He glances back and forth between Rogue and I as he says, “Does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on here?”
I look around at the patio which is starting to get crowded with Sunday morning breakfast patrons. “Let’s go grab one of the booths in the back so we’ve got some privacy,” I suggest.
“I’ll go talk to the manager. I come here so often I’ve got one in the back corner that practically has my name engraved on it. How do you take your coffee, Tristan?” she asks over her shoulder as she’s walking away.
“Black, as strong as it comes,” I answer.
I watch as Rogue has a visceral response to my answer. I can see her full body shudder.
She shakes her head in disgust, “I don’t know how you can drink that stuff. In my opinion, it should be used to strip paint,” she retorts.
I laugh at the sour expression on her face as I remark, “Remember how I told you I never slept in college? I never said that I didn’t have some help from industrial-strength caffeine.”
Rogue turns back toward Marcus and asks, “The usual?”
He responds, “Make it a double.�
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Rogue’s eyes widen in surprise as she asks, “Marc, don’t you have Nicola’s back-piece this afternoon?”
“Why do you think I asked for the double?” he answers. “Somebody I know got me out of bed before my alarm clock went off.”
Rogue looks concerned but eventually shrugs, “Well, that wouldn’t be my choice before a back piece, but I’m not you.”
As she walks away, Marcus looks over at me and comments, “Women can be such nags.”
If you were to look up the definition of a no-win situation. This would be it. I could have a little male bonding moment with him and agree. But, I also know he is Rogue’s best friend and any disloyalty to her will reflect badly on me. There is no good option here. I elect to do what any prudent person would do under the circumstances. I look down at my phone and I check my text messages. I hold up my finger as I say, “Just a sec, this might be important.”
I can’t help but smile as I read the incoming text from Kelly. It looks like our budding remote videographer was in a little bit of panic to leave his latest victim and left some coding strings behind. Since every programmer tends to code slightly differently, this could potentially be a big break.
I look up and notice that Marcus is studying me intently. He raises an eyebrow at me as he inquires, “Good news?”
I nod as I confirm, “Extremely. I’m closing in on a pedophile who’s terrorizing high school and college women in three states. If all goes well, he’s about two hours from being caught.”
For the first time, I actually get a friendly smile from Marcus as he replies, “That’s pretty epic. Congratulations. What’s going on with Rogue? She doesn’t usually trust anyone. I knew her six months before she let me close enough to hug her. I don’t even know you and I find her in your arms?”
I try to contain my sigh. I wonder if Rogue knows that her best friend is more than a little in love with her. “Look, I know where you’re coming from. It’s not really my story to tell. Today’s been a really rough day and I think I was just a person for her to lean on in a time of crisis. I don’t know that there’s anything more to it.” I reply trying to avoid an awkward turf war with her best friend.
“But, you think she’s hot, right?” Marcus probes.
Now, I’m thoroughly confused. I decide to just roll with it and answer honestly, “I’ve got eyes. It’s hard not to appreciate what’s in front of me, but today isn’t for that kind of stuff.”
“Under different circumstances would Rogue be your type?” Marcus pushes.
“In a New York minute,” I confirm. “But these aren’t different circumstances and I have to deal with the ones I’m dealt.”
Marcus nods. “Still, your circumstances are only temporary,” he argues.
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I reply, “It’s complicated. I don’t know how long our lives will be enmeshed. I know it’s not my business, but it’s pretty obvious that you love her, why isn’t she your girlfriend?”
Marcus chuckles as he announces, “I like you, man. You don’t play any games. You’re right, I fiercely love Rogue. I would go to hell and back for her. The only problem is that I’m not ‘in love’ with her. She’s like my sister and my buddy rolled into one package. Would I like to find somebody just like her that I had romantic feelings for? Absolutely! Sadly, Rogue and I simply aren’t couple material.”
Just when I think this case or this day can’t get any weirder, it does. Of all the things I expect him to do and say, backing off and encouraging me to take a run at Rogue is not one of them. It’s kind of like when I was a kid and my brother and I used to play opposite day.
I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all when Rogue comes back to the table carrying drinks. I immediately stand up. It’s a force of habit. My dad drilled it into us when we were kids that when a lady enters the room, a gentleman always stands. Everyone my age thinks it’s bizarre, but I can’t seem to un-train myself. Rogue seems to notice the gesture. She winks at me and playfully slaps Marcus on the shoulder as she puts two cans of Red Bull in front of him.
“Marcus, are you paying attention? It’s those kind of manners that attract a woman of substance,” she instructs.
“What? The dude stood up. Maybe he had a muscle cramp,” Marcus argues.
Rogue rolls her eyes, “Geez, Marcus do you pay attention at all? Let me walk you through this from a woman’s point of view. Here’s what Tristan’s gesture said to me. First, it indicated he cared whether I came back. Second, it showed he was anticipating my return. Third, it showed he was watching out for me. Fourth, it showed he was being respectful. Fifth, just for bonus points, Tristan’s eyes lit up and he smiled the minute he saw me enter the room even though he didn’t know that I had seen him yet. Do you know what that kind of attention does to a girl’s ego? It’s a thousand times better than a ‘Hey baby, I think you’re sexy. Let me buy you a drink.’”
When I go home for a visit, I’m going to take my dad out for his favorite pizza just to thank him for his stellar dating advice.
Marcus looks completely gobsmacked. “Seriously? All of that because he stood up? What does he get if he helps you put on your coat?” he asks, somewhat sarcastically.
Yet, Rogue doesn’t take the bait; she just continues answering the question in the same even tone, “Well, it depends. If he’s only doing it to get brownie points, probably not much. If he helps me get my coat on because he’s truly being a gentleman, who knows? We tend to notice the little things, and they add up over time. For example, today without being asked to when I was feeling ill, Tristan made sure I had some juice to drink and a cookie. When he thought I was cold, he took off his jacket and put it around my shoulders. But just as importantly, he didn’t pair all of that with some cheesy pickup line. He was just nice with no strings attached.”
It is totally bizarre to hear my behavior analyzed from the female perspective—helpful, but bizarre. It also makes me really glad that I’m operating under the constraints of professional behavior. Had I been left to my own devices, I probably would’ve laid it on a little thicker and I might have blown my chances, so I’m glad I chose to show some decorum today.
Marcus tries to high-five me as he says, “I think she likes you, dude.”
I don’t usually leave someone hanging on a high five, but I had to let him fly solo on this one. I couldn’t embarrass Rogue like that.
Rogue gasps and hides her face when she hears his comment. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. This one has absolutely no filter. I can’t take him anywhere. It’s like traveling with the 10-year-old class clown,” she laments.
“Rogue, it’s fine, really. I’m not going to hold you responsible for the antics of your friend,” I assure her. “But, for the record, it would be totally cool with me if you did like me.”
“Ooh the boy’s got game!” Marcus teases.
Simultaneously, Rogue and I hiss, “Shut up!”
Marcus looks hurt. “Dude, I’m trying to help you out,” he protests.
I try to hide my grin as I say, “Oh, was that what that was? I appreciate your efforts, but I think I’m doing all right.”
Before I can say anything else, Marcus interrupts me again. “You know what, I’m already in the doghouse so I might as well go for broke... Hey Ro... Guess what? Tristan really likes you too.”
I hear a low growl before I see Rogue get about two inches from his nose and state very deliberately, “Marcus Taylor Brolen! This might be a good time for me to remind you that you are a grown-ass man and not a third grader. Did someone hit you with a stupid stick this morning? I don’t care if you are my boss. You don’t get to embarrass me like that. The next time you pull a stunt like that, I’m gonna call your mama and tell her I’m concerned about all the caffeine you drink and how it might be affecting your arrhythmia,” Rogue threatens.
Marcus blanches as he processes her words. “You wouldn’t,” he stammers.
“Just try me” she responds as she glares at him with her arm
s crossed defensively across her chest.
Slumping down in his seat, Marcus takes a long sip of his Red Bull. He starts to mess around with his cell phone. Rogue is shredding a napkin into a small pile of confetti in front of her as she’s making a concerted effort not to have any eye contact with Marcus.
I watch as Marcus’s eyes fill with pain. “Rogue, please look at me,” he pleads. As she raises her eyes to meet his, he continues. “I never meant to hurt you. I was only teasing. The only thing I’ve ever wanted for you is for you to be happy. I just didn’t want you to miss the fact that this guy could be good for you.”
Rogue’s expression softens and she reaches out to ruffle his hair. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, Marc. But, good Lord, could you take half a second to think about what comes flying out of your mouth? It’s frightening sometimes. One of these days, you’re going to get yourself into some real trouble. How many times have I told you that you’re not responsible for my happiness? I’ll figure it out—eventually. Until then, I’ve got bigger issues going on and I’m going to need you as my best friend, so don’t screw that up,” Rogue says as she leans in and kisses Marcus on the cheek. “By the way, I accept your non-apology, apology.”
“Hey, I said I was sorry!” Marcus protests.
I catch his eye and shake my head slightly. He glances at me and whispers, “I didn’t?” I shake my head again. “Oh Geez!” he murmurs “No wonder she’s ticked at me.”
Marcus clears his throat, “I’m sorry I’ve been talking much more than I’ve been listening today, and I’m sorry I embarrassed you. You called me for help and I haven’t really been there for you today. What do you need from me?”
Rogue’s eyes fill up with tears as she replies, “That’s all I wanted Marcus. I just needed to know you really heard me, because that little drama we just went through is nothing compared to what I’m about to tell you, so I need to know that you’re going to be a grown-up about this. I need the Marcus that I can count on to be my rock, not the one who can burp the alphabet.”
Identity of the Heart (A Hidden Hearts Novel Book 1) Page 5