Chapter 11
“Tristan.”
I turn just as Tristan Cross takes the seat next to me. His expression screams smug as he looks back into my eyes.
His whole vibe is the same from our meeting, perfectly polished from head to toe, all black everything. We almost match.
“I’m obviously not ‘free.’ My family is running this event.”
“I gathered as much from your speech. You look stunning by the way, in case no one else has said it yet.”
My cheeks burn at the compliment. He has such an easy confidence about him, the kind of confidence I would kill for.
“Thank you,” I reply.
“Nothing you don’t already know,” he muses. “I couldn’t help but notice you ate dinner alone. Mind if I join you for dessert?”
Before I can find a polite excuse to leave, my mother is back.
“Olivia, who’s your friend?”
“This is?—”
“Tristan Cross.” He cuts me off, standing to offer Mom his hand.
“Oh!” she exclaims. Then drops to a whisper. “I believe you’re about to win the 2007 Vega. Excellent taste.”
Eww. Is she flirting with him? My mom has always been a free spirit, completely uninhibited. I’m used to it, but the way she’s batting her eyelashes at my current prospect is giving me the ick.
The band has started playing and I think that maybe the noise will help me escape. I take one final bite of the raspberry mousse and stand.
“I actually need to?—”
“Dance with me.” Tristan cuts me off again. I can’t decide if it’s attractive or annoying when he attempts to finish my sentences.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Mom butts in. “I’m sure Olivia would love to dance with you.” Then she physically pushes me toward him like I’m a child who needs encouragement to play.
“Wonderful,” Tristan says, holding an arm out for me. Unfortunately, I latch on to him tighter than I mean to, but after Mom’s little shove, I’m having trouble balancing on these heels.
I love to dance. At home, in the kitchen, to the music everyone else finds so strange. Well, everyone except Gavin. The jazz band playing tonight isn’t really my jam. Tristan, on the other hand, seems completely in his element.
“Have I already mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?” he whispers, his mouth dangerously close to my ear. He’s placed one of my hands on his shoulder and seems to be holding it there for good measure. Until he lets it drop down to my waist.
“Yes, thank you,” I reply, my cheeks heating again. How the hell am I supposed to exude professionalism right now? “You’ll love the Vega,” I offer, wanting to talk about anything other than myself. “It’s always been my favorite of our collection.”
“I’m quite familiar with your wine. If I’d have known who your family was last week, I’m sure I would have been talking your ear off about the vineyard the entire meeting. I’m a bit of a collector.”
He takes hold of my free hand and spins me. The move is flawless with little effort, and I can’t help but grin as we come back together. He flashes his perfect white teeth, pleased with my response.
Maybe I shouldn’t be fighting so hard against this. I’m not sure if going out with Tristan would actually promise a closed deal, but it would make Mitch happy with me. And how bad could it be dating this man?
Tristan’s handsome, confident, he smells really nice. A date with anyone who enjoys good wine would be easy to endure. I meet his eyes as he grips my waist, trying to decipher if there’s something here worth exploring.
“You’re really good at this,” I admit, thankful for such a competent dance partner. He smirks and twirls me again.
Allowing myself to lean in a little closer, I imagine what a night with him would be like. Fancy dinner, fast car, delicious wine, definitely sex. By the way he’s looking at me I could probably convince him to find a coat closet right now.
Would he be like Ian? I can already see myself wearing a mask for him, not wanting any of my “quirks” to come out. Wanting to be as perfect as he seems.
It feels easy, slipping back into old habits. To wonder about where Tristan might take me, what kind of interesting people I’d meet in his circle. But would he make me laugh? Would he make me feel beautiful, or just let me hear it all the time?
I could justify a million reasons for testing the waters, for seeing where this could go, but that’s not who I am anymore. My choices are for me, not to please everyone else. And this isn’t who I want.
I avert my gaze over his shoulder and vow to keep this professional for the rest of the night.
“Well, if you have questions about the wine or the terroir, I’m more than happy to answer them for you,” I continue, hoping it sends the right message. This is good, this is professional. We may not be talking about my work at Sizzl, but educating about wine has been my job since I was nine. It’s the most natural thing in the world for me.
“I do have a question, actually,” Tristan continues. The music has slowed down again, and he tugs me a little closer, letting his hands slip over the silky material of my dress. “Why are you here alone tonight?”
So, not exactly a professional conversation then. “Oh, Gavin doesn’t really care for these events. He hates wearing a suit.” I don’t know where that comes from, but now I can’t help picturing Gavin in a suit. I wonder what he’s doing tonight, if he has his hands on another girl, just like Tristan’s are on me.
Tristan somehow leans in even closer, so much that I have to tip my head back to avoid us touching. “Gavin, huh?” He says the name like it’s a bad taste in his mouth. It’s oddly offensive.
“Yes, Gavin.” It may just be a fake relationship for Mitch’s sake, but each day I’m finding myself happier for the shield he creates. His friendship means something to me.
Tristan must not hear the conviction in my voice, or maybe he just doesn’t care. He strikes me as a man who’s used to getting anything he wants. Just like the 2007 Vega he bid on that rarely goes for anything under five grand.
“Now, why would you be with a man who wants to be anywhere else but with you?”
I can feel his breath on the shell of my ear. It makes me shiver in a way that I can’t decide is good or bad. His brazen flirting might be hot if it wasn’t for my job, but I’ve never felt more uncomfortable in my life.
“Excuse me. I just need to run to the restroom.”
I move as quickly as these beautiful shoes will allow and grab my purse from the table. Finding a dark corner to hide in is all I want right now.
Once I’m settled in the women’s sitting room, I pull out my phone, looking for a distraction. My heart skips a beat when I see a new text from Gavin.
Shit. Do I have a crush on my fake boyfriend?
Gavin Scott:
Everything quill be all right
Beneath the words is a photo of Churro. It looks like Gavin is holding him in the palm of his hand. I know from my experience with dogs that it’s not real, but I could swear Churro has a huge smile plastered on his face.
Something compels me to hit call before I have the chance to talk myself out of it.
“Hey, Sparkles.”
Shit. I have absolutely no reason to be calling this man. I don’t have anything to say. My palms are getting sweaty with each second the silence continues. Jesus, Liv. Say something!
“Did you get the pic?” Gavin asks, saving me from further embarrassment. “Sorry about the cheesy line, I just know it’s been a tough week for you.”
Damn, that’s sweet. It’s Saturday night and I’m sure he has plans, but just knowing he took a moment to think about me makes me feel all gooey inside. I really do have a crush.
“Liv? Hello?”
“Sorry, I’m here.”
“Thought you pocket-dialed me for a sec.” He sounds relieved and it makes me happier than it should.
“Nope, no pockets tonight.”
“Oh yeah? What are you wearing?” Flirting with Tristan made me nervous, but this feels fun. Gavin’s voice is so playful that it makes me want to play back.
“Why don’t you come find out?” As soon as the words leave my lips I’m mortified. Who am Iright now? “I’m just k?—”
“Yeah? You at home?”
“No. Sorry. I umm…I don’t know why I said that. I don’t even know why I called you. I’m at a charity event, my family’s event, actually.” Great, and now I’m rambling.
“Not having a good time, then?” he asks. I can’t decide if I should tell him about running into Tristan here.
“I guess.”
“So why did you call me?”
“I’m not sure. I saw the text and…” I trail off, still not really knowing why I called.
“And you thought your night would be better with me in it?”
“Exactly.” Maybe he’s on to something.
“Where’s the event?” he asks.
“Nob Hill. The Fairmont.”
“Really?” His voice sounds overly eager. “Can you get away?”
“Yeah, all the important parts are over.” I could just go home now, which is probably what I should do.
“Meet me in the lobby in twenty minutes.” And he hangs up.