Chapter 10
Ten
Astrid
"You can always do a glitter bomb in his office," my sister Aria suggested, her voice tinged with mischief.
Annalise laughed, shaking her head. "What's your obsession with glitter bombs? Have you ever actually used one before?"
"No, I haven't. And that's why I'm obsessed. I just want to see one in action."
Glitter bomb. I wrote it down in my little notebook, the one that was cute and innocent on the cover, all pink floral motif. But inside? That's where the vengeance was happening.
My sisters had answered my distress call last night and met me for an emergency lunch at one of our favorite cafes, the busy hum of a Monday in Midtown Manhattan surrounding us.
We sat by the window in our favorite spot, a perfect place to keep an eye on everything going on around us while we put our heads together.
Thank goodness for their help because Tristan had already texted me a few times that he still wanted to talk to me tonight, and I really needed to figure out what the hell to do.
"What else?" I asked, tapping my pen against the page.
Aria reached for her salad, fork paused as she answered. "The bouillon cube in the showerhead is a classic."
I laughed, never getting tired of that story. "Yep, definitely." I patted my book. "It's already in here."
"What about something else food-related?" Annalise chimed in, her tone dark. "Like give him light food poisoning."
Aria and I both nearly choked at the same time, coughing into our napkins. "Light food poisoning?" I gasped for air. "How does one go about doing that?"
She shrugged, an evil glint dancing in her eyes. "I have no clue. But it'd be fun to try. He'd never see it coming." She glanced at my notebook with a nod. "You should write it down. This is a brainstorm and there are no wrong ideas."
"Maybe, I don't know," Aria said, brows furrowed as she gently wiped at her mouth, "we should stop short of landing him in the hospital."
"That's why I said light food poisoning. Duh." Annalise rolled her eyes, clearly unconcerned with the ethics of it all.
Aria shot her a look. "God, I hope Max never gets on your bad side."
"He better not," Annalise replied firmly.
"He won't," I said. "That man's all about you."
She smiled softly, a once-rare expression that was becoming more and more common in recent months, enhancing her beauty. The change in her lately was all due to Max, who had his own unique way of softening her sharp edges.
The server interrupted us momentarily, refilling our waters and offering polite smiles. I took a second to glance down at my notebook, slyly attempting to keep my hand over what I'd written down. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to see this list and get the wrong idea.
When she left, we got back to business, no time to waste since we still had much to discuss before we all had to return to work soon.
"Facial cream recs that give him rashes," Annalise suggested.
"Again, hospital," Aria argued. "What about bad fashion advice? Or a boardroom full of..." She trailed off, deep in thought, her hand tracing the rim of her glass.
"Full of bulls," Annalise finished, quite unhelpfully, because who in their right mind would bring bulls into an office building?
The mention of his office jogged my memory, however, about something I really needed to discuss with them. "Have you two heard of Hawthorne Properties? That's the company that Tristan's dad heads."
They both shook their heads. "What do they do?" Annalise asked, a frown tugging at her lips.
"Urban renewal and revitalization." I did air quotes around both words as I leaned closer. "In other words, they gut entire communities, kick out people who've lived there forever, then throw up glass towers with astronomical rent that only millionaires can afford."
"Ugh," Annalise groaned, the first to react. "And Tristan works for his dad?"
"Yep, and he seems proud of it too." I couldn't help the bitterness that crept into my tone. "Like last night, the arrogant jerk told me to research him, that he had nothing to hide, that he wasn't a bad guy. But in fact... he and his dad are the definition of bad guys."
"Absolutely," Annalise agreed, while both of them nodded their heads. "Even more ammo to get revenge on the fucker."
We all took a few minutes to eat our meals, ignoring the rush of the busy lunchtime bustling around us, a few suits in a corner hashing out a deal, the faint sound of espresso machines whirring in the background.
Even though the food was amazing as always, I barely tasted it, distracted by both the conversation and thoughts of Tristan, a thrum of something passing through me—excitement mixed with dread?—whenever I imagined talking to him tonight.
He'd spoken to me with such confidence, not even a smidgeon of hesitation in his pursuit of me, but was that just a game he was playing?
"So what else did you find in your research?" Aria asked between bites, glancing up at me with curiosity.
"I looked closely at his hair and discovered it indeed seems real, no thinning, not even a hint of a receding hairline, not that there's anything wrong with balding," I added.
Annalise raised a brow. "What? What are you talking about?"
I couldn't help smiling at their confused expressions before explaining what Archie had said, making them cackle, and then filled them in on what I knew about their situation, which wasn't much.
"From what I can tell, Tristan's family life is messed up.
" I emphasized the words messed up because it truly seemed like a nightmare.
"How so?" Aria asked.
After a quick glance around to make sure no one was listening, I dropped my voice a little.
"Well, there was a ridiculous amount of articles about his parents and their divorce.
It got nasty back in the day. The dad got his mistress pregnant, they later married, and then there was another messy divorce. And that poor kid is Archie."
"Whew, poor kid," Aria muttered. "So Archie lives with Tristan?"
I lifted my shoulders in a shrug. "I guess. That's what I've gathered from Tristan, although I'm not sure how permanent it is."
"Don't get too attached to the kid," Annalise warned, her eyes narrowing. "I know you and your bleeding heart."
"Bleeding heart? Excuse me?"
She laughed, but her eyes were serious. "You know it's true. You feel too much. But you can't lose sight of the original mission. And that's revenge on that asshole for what he did."
I nodded. "Right. I know. Believe me, I'll never lose sight of that."
"Good girl," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Sometimes it really sucked to be the youngest child, everyone always thinking they knew best and telling you what to do. As we'd grown up, it'd become more subtle, but it was still there underneath the surface, ready to bubble up at the slightest provocation.
Oh, who was I kidding? There was nothing subtle about it most of the time.
"So in my humble opinion," my big sister continued, "I think we should enact all these little pranks that go under the radar, just for shits and giggles, all while you're playing the long game, and then you'll go in for the ultimate revenge."
"Which is?" I asked.
Her eyes turned flinty, her expression mirroring the coldness, as she faced me fully. "Make him fall for you, and then, in the end, break his heart, break his spirit, just like he broke yours."
Damn. I stared at her, heart pounding for some reason.
"Yes. That's it exactly," Aria echoed.
Who knew my sisters were so bloodthirsty?
Glancing back and forth between their determined faces, it hit me then... so yes, being the youngest, they bossed me around quite a bit. But also? They were the most protective people in my life by far, and they would always, always, support me and defend me.
"Okay. That's the plan then," I agreed. "One problem, though. How can I make someone fall for me and love me?"
Annalise scoffed, waving her hand in dismissal. "Easy. Just be yourself. You were yourself at the ball, right? And he clearly loved you. So just keep being you."
That was a sweet thing to say really. But I wasn't so sure that would work. Not only because Tristan and I were leagues apart in all the important things in life, but also, was there anybody out there who would actually love me for being me?
And even worse, I didn't even know who I was lately. Ever since I'd met—or rather, reacquainted myself with—Tristan, my equilibrium had been off. And now, I was some strange combination of my insecure high school self and what I thought had been a confident young career woman.
"Annalise is right," Aria said. "You're amazing just the way you are. Just be yourself, remember the end game, and we'll take it day by day. All of us together. You're not in this alone."
"Nope, not alone." Annalise set down her empty glass with finality. "Never."
Sure, the two of them were totally coupled up now, and between that and their jobs, they were busier than ever. But I knew if I needed them, they'd come running in an instant. Just like I would do for them.
"Let's get this fucker," Annalise said as she picked up the check.
"You mean the bill or Tristan?" Aria joked.
"Both."
So we had the skeleton of a plan. Sort of. It was up to me to flesh it all out and put it into place. Stuffing my little notebook into my bag, I couldn't help smiling.
Revenge was kind of fun.