Chapter 16
“You’re where? With whom?”
“I can’t tell you where exactly, Ev, but my interview was supposed to be with Trystan Abbott.”
“Trystan Abbott? The Trystan Abbott? Seriously? Oh my God, you lucky bitch! I would give my eye teeth and my left tit to land a plum assignment like that. Tell me everything . . .Is he really that fucking hot in real life? Who are you selling the story to? I have first dibs, right? Jesus, my boss is going to wee herself with envy, and I’ll finally get the promotion I deserve. Maybe I’ll even get her job!”
“I’m not doing the story.” Iris was frowning. Evan’s instantly avaricious response bothered her.
“What? Why not?”
“He didn’t consent to the interview. His agent was mistaken.” She chose her words carefully, a little wary after the other woman’s initial giddy reaction. It had been all about Evan and how this interview would impact her career.
What the hell?
It reminded Iris of how her father had often used her achievements to prop himself up. In fact, Evan was more like Stanford Carter than Iris could ever be. She made no secret of the fact that she admired Iris’s father greatly. Evan had always spoken about how lucky Iris had been to have a mentor like Stanford Carter, and Iris had never corrected her, choosing to let the other woman believe that her father had cared enough to guide Iris in any way. When it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Now, when she thought back on her years of friendship with Evan, she comprehended how often the other woman had spoken of Stanford Carter, how she’d always asked questions about him, researched his career, and had even made a scrapbook of clippings of all his stories to share with Iris. Not give, merely share.
Now, Iris wondered if Evan had befriended her because of who Iris’s father had been. If the other woman had believed that it would help her get ahead somehow.
“But you’ve been there with him, alone, for two weeks… You have a story, Iris. Even without the interview.”
“No. I don’t. I refuse to write about him without his explicit consent.”
“Oh my God, you’re so soft. The fucking opportunity of a lifetime and you’re wasting it. You don’t deserve this chance; you don’t have a clue what to do with it. Do you want to be a journalist or not? Because let me tell you, this is getting fucking embarrassing. Your dad is probably rolling over in his grave right now at what a wimp his daughter is.”
Iris blinked at her friend’s face in horror—Evan’s expression had twisted in disgust and contempt and Iris barely recognized her.
“Uhm, Evan, I have to go. The connection is bad and?—”
“Wait, so you’re calling me from his number, right?” Iris’s stomach plummeted at the question. How could she have been so stupid? “If you won’t do the interview, do you think he’d mind if I WhatsApped him? Asked him a few questions? See if he’d be open to having a chat with me?
“Please don’t do that,” Iris whispered in horror.
“Iris, I’m more experienced than you. Maybe he’s reluctant to be interviewed by a complete novice, but I have some credentials at least. I’ll even share the byline with you.”
Iris hated that it had taken her this long to recognize that the person she’d considered her best friend was just another bully, and had always been a bully. Only she’d been slyer about it, with her subtle little put-downs, her gentle concern about how Iris just wasn’t tough enough for the industry. Everything she’d ever said and done had been to make herself look and feel more important by making Iris feel small.
Now, as Evan continued to plot and plan and ponder ways to snatch Iris’s so-called big fish right out from under her nose, her callous disregard of Trystan’s wishes infuriated Iris and stirred up her protective instinct. Evan was never getting her greedy hooks into Trystan. Not if Iris had anything to do with it.
“Evan, back the fuck off!” Iris snapped, shutting the other woman up, and Evan’s mouth dropped open. “As soon as I hang up this phone, I’ll be blocking your number. There will be no contacting him with unsolicited requests for interviews. Ever. Am I making myself clear.”
“Jesus, when the fuck did you get so selfish, Iris? You’re the one who doesn’t want the interview, why not give it to someone who does?”
“Goodbye, Evan,” Iris disconnected the call without another word and instantly blocked and deleted the woman’s number from Trystan’s phone. She then had a moment’s panic that Evan could somehow track down the phone’s GPS location and went into his location services, which she discovered were already switched off.
She heaved a sigh of relief and then shuddered in reaction. The thought of the ugliness of the real world intruding here, in this safe haven Trystan had found for himself, was disturbing and she hated that she’d been the one to nearly ruin it for him.
Of course, there was no guarantee that Evan wouldn’t just try to contact him from a different number. Nausea surged in the pit of her stomach and Iris actually retched at the thought, and her hand flew to her mouth as she fought back the urge to vomit.
Trystan sauntered back into the kitchen and when he saw her sitting there, pale and trembling, rushed toward her.
“What’s wrong? Iris?” She stared at him, panic and sorrow rendering her temporarily mute. Her silence alarmed Trystan. “C’mon, sweetness, talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
“I th-think I messed up,” she whispered. “Evan, she…” she tried to explain but everything came out in an incoherent, jumbled mess. He seemed to get the gist of it though and made soothing noises while she spoke.
“It’s okay, baby, my number isn’t traceable, and no unsolicited messages from strange numbers will ever make it past the firewall. Don’t worry about it. I’m so sorry about your friend, though.”
“Time to make better friends, I guess,” she whispered shakily, trying to hide her grief from him. But he knew her well enough by now to see straight through her facade, and he tugged her to her feet to enfold her in a hug.
“So, it’s official,”Trystan told her the following morning at breakfast, after checking his messages. “The road and bridge will be fully repaired by tomorrow morning. They estimate that it’ll be done by about nine a.m.”
Iris didn’t know how to react to that. What was supposed to happen now?
“I should probably contact the rental company about getting a new car,” she finally said.
Her proclamation was met with utter silence and she lifted her head to find him staring mutely at her, his eyes blazing with emotion.
“Trystan, don’t look at me like that,” she admonished. “I have to go home at some point. I can’t stay here forever.”
“You don’t have to do anything, Iris. Of course you can stay here, with me… for as long as you fucking want.”
“You have to go home at some point too. And what then? Do I just travel from place to place with you like some—I don’t know—some good luck talisman?”
“I don’t see why not.” He tried to play it off as a joke, but it fell flat.
“Trystan, I am not—nor will I ever be—an extension of you! I’m my own person, you don’t get to cart me around like a personal possession.”
“Fuck, Iris, I don’t want that. I want you to live with me, be with me. Write, edit, do whatever you want, but do it with me by your side. As my partner, my lover… even my wife. I’ll take you any way I can get you because I don’t want to lose you.”
“That wouldn’t work,” she said and he swore, the expletive loud and violent, startling Luna into lifting her head to stare at him quizzically.
“How do you know it won’t work when you won’t even give us a chance? You’re running scared about us. You’re a lot of things, Iris Hughes, but you’re not a coward… so don’t chicken out over this.”
“Trystan, what I meant by that is your vision of what a life together would be for us is flawed, and it’s doomed to fail—” She tried to reason with him, but he interrupted her.
“No, we can make it work. Iris and Trystan’s world, the two of us and no one else. I told you—I don’t have to go back to my old life. I want a new one with you. But I need you to be brave, Iris. For us. I need you to be that woman who faced a wolf and a beast in the same night and survived. No, thrived. I can’t be the only one willing to fight for what we have and for what we could build.”
She swallowed down a sob but couldn’t prevent the tear from slipping down her cheek. His tormented gaze tracked its path and he reached out to catch it on his thumb.
“I love you, Iris,” he whispered, his voice taut with pain. “And I want you to stay with me.”
Iris’s eyes memorized each beautiful feature individually, lovingly brushing over the hills and valleys of that gorgeous face. Her gaze snagged on the scar. This man. This beautiful, terrified man, who was still here hiding from his ghosts, afraid to face his future. He wasn’t even aware of what he was asking of her, what he was asking of himself, and if they were ever going to stand a chance Iris had to make him understand.
“I love you, Trystan, and I want you to come away with me.”
His breath stuttered in his lungs and halted completely. His hand crept up to the center of his chest and absently rubbed at the spot just above his heart.
“You’re hiding, Trystan,” she whispered. “You’re still hiding from the ghost of who you were. And you’re asking me to hide with you. I do want to be with you, but I refuse to hide here—or anywhere else—with you. If you want a life with me then you’ve got to be prepared to live it with me. You’ve got to forgive yourself for Trish Nesbitt. You have to fix your life and your career. And I don’t mean by becoming a carpenter, or whatever the hell else. That’s not who you are. Telling me to be brave, while you’re using me as an excuse to live a life of obscurity because you’re afraid to face your demons, is just the height of hypocrisy.
“You told my parents you have to find a way to create a safe space in your life for me. But you can’t do that while you’re hiding in places like this. It’s amazing here, it’s beautiful, private, and it feels like we’re the only two people left on the face of the earth, but it’s not home. And if we’re going to be together, we need to figure out where home will be. Because it’s not here, or any place similar to here. For us to truly know if we’ll work, we can’t be the only people on earth. We need to be out there, in the real world. Where everybody thinks they own a part of you.
“It’ll test us, but it’ll also make us stronger and if we survive all the tough times ahead, we’ll know that we’re made for each other. I do want to fight for us. But the fight is out there. Not here.”
She pushed herself up from the table and gave him a bittersweet smile.
“So no, I won’t stay with you, Trystan. But I do hope you’ll come with me.”
She didn’t give him a chance to reply, knowing he would need time to ruminate over her words, and she turned on her heel to walk out of the room.
Iris was prettybusy for the rest of the day. She booked a flight home in two days’ time and made a reservation at a hotel in George, close to the airport, for the next night. She also called the rental company about a new car and arranged for a taxi to pick her up and take her to the rental shop in town. She sent her parents and flatmates the news that she’d be home soon. She didn’t see Trystan at all. She’d missed the walk with him and Luna and felt a pang of loss at the thought of this possibly having been her last opportunity to walk with them. She blinked back tears at the thought, and refocused on packing her bags. She had so much crap scattered all over the house.
She and Trystan had been sharing a room since the first night they’d made love and that’s where most of her stuff was. After she packed her bags, she moved them to the guest room that she hadn’t occupied in nearly ten days. Something told her she’d be sleeping there tonight.
Trystan remained elusive, but Luna started following her around, as if sensing that she was going somewhere. In the end, Iris simply curled up on the sofa in the solarium while Luna rested her heavy head on Iris’s lap.
She stroked the dog’s big, shaggy head, crying silently as she did so.
“I’m going to miss you so much, girl. You’ve been the best, goodest girl. Take care of your dad for me when I’m gone, okay? Keep him out of the sads. That’s your job, okay?”
She wrapped her arms around the dog’s neck and hugged her close, taking comfort in her solid strength and lovely doggy smell.
Eventually Iris got hungry and padded toward the kitchen, hoping to find him there, ready for dinner. But the kitchen was empty and cold. Iris made herself a quick sandwich and ate it standing at the counter.
It was nearly nine when she walked toward his bedroom door. It was closed and there was no light shining from beneath it. Iris exhaled on a shuddering sigh and with slumped shoulders walked toward her own room.
That night was the first in a long time that she spent alone, and she wept into her pillow before finally falling asleep.
“Good morning,”Trystan greeted the following day when Iris walked into the kitchen at nine a.m. Her taxi would be there in an hour, and she had time for a quick bite and one last stroll to the lake before she had to leave.
“Morning,” she muttered, avoiding his eyes. Hers were swollen from the tears she’d shed last night, and she’d rather he not see that.
“Iris.” His tone was admonishing, and she knew it was because she refused to look at him, but she didn’t give a damn. He’d put her through hell last night with his cold-shoulder treatment just because she’d had the gall to lay out her own terms for their relationship, and now he wanted to play nice again?
She shoved a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and tapped her nails impatiently against the marble countertop while she waited for it to pop. She buttered it and smeared it with strawberry jam before grabbing a mug of coffee and sitting at the island to eat, instead of at the banquette with him, as she’d done on so many other mornings.
She heard his deep sigh from behind her, but ignored him.
“You’re mad at me.”
“Ya think?” she muttered beneath her breath.
“I know.” His deep voice came from directly behind her and she yelped in shock and nearly choked on her toast.
“God, you scared me! Was it necessary to sneak up on me?” she seethed, turning toward him to blister him with a look.
“I didn’t sneak You were so focused on ignoring me, you simply didn’t notice me coming up behind you.”
“I have to finish my breakfast. My taxi will be here in forty minutes.”
“It won’t. I cancelled it,” he said, and she gaped at him.
“What? How could you even do that? How did you know which taxi company I contacted.”
“There’s only one in town.”
“But why would you… Is this your way of trying to keep me here against my will?”
“Jesus, no, not at all. I made other arrangements. A taxi wasn’t needed.”
“I don’t need you to make my arrangements for me.”
“Iris, I was making the arrangements for us.”
“Wait. What?”
“Well, you did ask me to come away with you, didn’t you? I couldn’t just up and leave. I needed to arrange our flight, contact Chance to come and fetch us, make sure Luna’s travel documents are still in order, pack, rehire Quinny, then set him to work getting my apartment in London livable for us. Then I also had to contact Miles about shutting down this place. Thankfully, he said to just lock up and go. His mother and stepdad live close by and will sort it out. All in all, it was fucking exhausting. I fell into bed at eight then woke up this morning only to discover that you didn’t come to bed last night. What the fuck, Iris?”
“Wait, so you’re coming with me?”
“Of course I am. Was there ever a doubt?”
“Well… yes,” she said. “When you made no effort to talk to me after our initial discussion yesterday, I assumed you needed more time to think. Then when you simply disappeared for the rest of the day, I thought I had my answer.”
“Woman, you threw all of this at me yesterday with very little warning. You just said you were leaving and I could either come with you or lose you. I needed a minute to process. And plan.”
Iris wrinkled her nose in acknowledgment. She had sprung it on him, she knew that, but once she’d heard the road was fixed, she’d simply jumped into got to get home mode. She didn’t even know why she’d reacted that way. Hearing the road was open had set off all kinds of alarm bells in her and an urgent need to leave.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It just felt like, with the road open, there was no reason for me to be here any longer. I didn’t feel like I had a place—or a right to be—here. This isn’t my home, Trystan. I’ve missed my family and my life. I wanted to get back to them and I guess, a small part of me still believed I should get out before you kicked me out.”
“Oh, Iris.” The disappointment she heard in his voice gutted her and she nodded.
“I know. It was an unfair, baseless assumption. And I really shouldn’t have flung all those ultimatums at you. It was wrong.”
His lips twitched and his eyes gentled.
“It certainly lit a fire under my arse. Here I was thinking, we’d spend a few days exploring the area, maybe staying in the next town over for a couple of nights…”
She winced. “That does sound lovely. But I can’t afford to just lounge around here indefinitely on vacation, y’know? Maybe some other time?”
“So you’re really coming with me?” she asked, her happiness and excitement giving the question a joyful cadence that she couldn’t quite control.
“You actually thought I could say no to you? That I’d choose staying here, in this lonely place, without you? Iris, did you miss the part where I said I love you?”
Her lips spread into a wide smile and she launched herself into his arms.
“Oh my God, so we’re really going to do this?” she said in a voice that quavered in disbelief and her hand went to her stomach as she was hit by a sudden bout of queasiness.
“Hey, don’t go getting cold feet on me now,” Trystan chastised, and she gulped and shook her head.
“No, I’m fine. We’re doing this. We’re going out there and people will know I kissed Trystan Abbott—famous movie star.” He rolled his eyes and teasingly tugged at one of her curls.
“People will know I kissed Iris Hughes—talented, future bestselling author.”
“It’s a little intimidating,” she admitted, and he looped an arm around her neck and kissed the top of her head.
“Storm in a teacup,” he predicted.
“And what was that you said about a flat in London? I have a flat.”
“Iris, sweetheart, I love you, but I’m not sharing a flat with you and your two flatmates. On this one, I’m afraid I can’t compromise.”
“Where’s the flat?”
“Knightsbridge.”
“Oh, of course, he has a flat in Knightsbridge,” she muttered sarcastically to herself, rolling her eyes. “When did your life get so fucking surreal, Iris?”
He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose.
“Eat your toast. Chance will be here shortly. I’ll bring out the bags and do last checks.”
It was all happening so fast; it was hard to believe they were leaving. She truly loved it here—the place had really grown on her—and she hoped they’d be able to return sometime… preferably in summer.
She ate while he collected their bags and went down into the basement garage to fiddle around with a few things. He returned to pilfer a slice of her toast.
“There’s a ton of food in the fridge,” he said, between bites. “So I’ll leave the electricity on. I assume Miles’s family will know what to do with it.”
He wandered off again, cheekily stealing her cup of coffee, on his way out of the kitchen.
Before too long, she’d finished her breakfast and cleaned the dishes, which gave her some time to wander from room to room, ostensibly to see if she’d left anything behind, but really to say goodbye.
When she came to the suite of rooms that had been her prison for those first few terrible nights she paused and sucked in a deep breath before stepping inside. She’d expected… something. But all she felt was mild surprise that she’d built it up to be this dreadful place, when in reality it was really just a pleasant little living area for a teen, or perhaps a housekeeper.
Iris laughed quietly underneath her breath and exited the room without a backward glance. The events that had led to that horrible night had taken place a lifetime ago. And the two people caught up in the middle of all that drama had changed because of each other, for each other, and they were both the better for of it.
She walked to the front of the house where Trystan stood waiting, Luna on a leash beside him. He held out his hand to her and she took it without hesitation.
“Ready?” he asked, and she smiled at him and nodded.
“As I’ll ever be,” she said, inhaling deeply, trying to keep her nervousness and doubts at bay. It was hard to do so as she watched the black Mercedes-Benz 4X4 with heavily tinted windows slowly make its way up the drive toward them, the first sign of The Real World they’d seen in weeks.
Trystan took a step toward the vehicle as it slid to a stop in front of them.
Both front-passenger and driver-side doors opened, and two fair-haired men stepped out.
Iris hung back, her one hand on Luna’s head, as Trystan released her other.
“Sam, good to see you,” he greeted warmly, shaking hands with the shorter of the two.
He had to be Sam Brand. Iris ran a speculative gaze over the man with the close-cropped medium-blond hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. He was about five-ten or -eleven—a couple of inches shorter than Trystan—with a lean, muscular build. He was pretty good-looking, in a rugged way.
The other guy was recognizable from the press he’d been getting since his first appearance as Trystan’s bodyguard. Chance Griffin was huge, at least six -foot-four or -five with sandy hair, also kept military short like his boss’s. He was a silent behemoth, his face unsmiling, his eyes concealed by dark glasses. She sensed him sizing her up before his head moved slightly as he checked out the rest of their surroundings. Very much On Duty… and a pit formed in Iris’s stomach as she understood that this was Trystan’s reality.
Hers too, now.
It was the first indication of how much her life was about to change and she was already having misgivings. That didn’t bode too well for the longevity of this relationship.
She shook herself, and shifted her gaze toward Trystan and immediately felt calmer, more centered, as she was reminded of why she was doing this. What was at stake. He was laughing at something Sam had said when his gaze drifted toward her, and his expression softened.
“Sam, I’d like you to meet Iris,” he said, voice warm and smile affectionate. He reached for her hand again and tugged her forward.
The other man ran an assessing, unsmiling glance over her person.
“So you’re the intruder, huh?”
Iris shot Trystan an unimpressed glare.
“Is that what he called me? He knew full well who I was.”
The man merely raised a brow, before spoiling the whole stern thing he had going by grinning.
“I gather all’s well that ends well?” he said and Trystan threw an arm around her shoulders and tugged her to his side. She put up a token resistance but melted against him after a few seconds.
“Never been so happy to have an unannounced visitor,” Trystan drawled.
“Again,” Iris grumbled. “Not unannounced.”
He lowered a kiss on top of her head.
“Just playing, sugarplum,” he dropped the words in her ear, before nuzzling the sensitive skin just beneath her earlobe. He lifted his head to address Sam again. “So the plane’s all prepped? As per my specifications?”
“It is.”
“The plane?” Iris squeaked. As in a specific plane? That was unexpected.
“Hmm.”
She supposed it was to be accepted that a man of his celebrity and status would travel by private jet, but it hadn’t once occurred to her that it would be their mode of transportation home. Did he own it? Or was he just renting it? Regardless, the staggering display of wealth was daunting and made her uncomfortable.
Before she had a chance to mull it over, he moved his hand to the small of her back and urged her toward the car.
“Time to go, sweetheart.”
Iris took one last look at the beautiful house that had sheltered them these past few weeks and took her first step into an unknown future.