CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO #3
Wait outside restaurants.
Wait chained up in a dilapidated shed.
It was Oliver’s thing.
He wasn’t drunk, but he was tipsy. He walked to me, his glassy eyes continuing to assess me.
“I wanted lipstick, Daisy. What happened to the lipstick?”
“Four hours is what happened,” I replied lightly. “Eating and drinking and wiping my mouth with the napkin—”
His hand reached out for me and wrapped around my jaw. It was light, and it didn’t hurt, but that was because I was letting him turn my face around. He inspected my mouth, his eyes narrowing.
“There’s a bit there, I guess,” he whispered, like he was trying to determine whether I was telling him the truth.
I was painfully aware the tortured singer was feet away. I felt his eyes on us. My face burned because I wondered how this looked to him. I was too embarrassed to catch a glimpse of him. I didn’t want Oliver taking notice of him, either. I didn’t want them to interact or exchange looks.
It frightened me.
Nothing good could come from these two men noticing each other.
I quickly said, “Let’s go home, Oliver. You’re tired.”
“I’m not tired,” he argued. “I’m feeling really good, Daisy. The best in a long time, actually.”
I smiled. “That’s good.”
He took my hand, and we began to turn. I felt my body relax, the tight knot in my stomach loosening—
“You dropped some cash.”
Oliver stopped and turned around, staring directly at Tristan. “What’s that?”
“Money fell out of your pocket,” Tristan returned.
When I turned around, I didn’t look down at the sidewalk. I stared right at him. His eyes were on me for a few moments before they swung over to Oliver, who was looking down at his feet.
Oliver let out a soft chuckle and bent down to scoop up the money. I didn’t know how much had fallen. I didn’t care.
I needed us to leave.
Nothing good would come from Tristan intersecting with this monster.
Don’t let them speak.
“Thank you,” Oliver said, smiling at him.
And that should have been that, like most interactions.
But Oliver didn’t leave.
Instead, he said, “You could have waited for me to leave and had a cool hundred to yourself.”
Tristan’s lips didn’t flinch at the humor. “I’m not a thief.”
Oliver nodded and, letting go of my hand, counted the money and then moved toward the singer.
“Just a Good Samaritan. They’re not easy to come by ever since the island got flooded with derelicts. Here, take half as a thank-you from me.”
He extended his hand, the cash hanging from the tips of his fingers. Tristan didn’t make a move to take it. He didn’t even look at it.
“I don’t need it.”
Oliver lowered his hand. By his side, I watched him slowly take Tristan in from his head to his shoes. Then he pointed at the guitar.
“You play that well?”
“I’m all right,” he replied.
“Honest and humble. I’ll have to ask another source.” Oliver turned his attention to me, and I tensed. “Did he play well, Daisy?”
I hid my shock, though my stomach bottomed out that this bastard had kept track of me all along. I smiled easily.
“I wasn’t out there long, but from what I heard, he did.”
“It’s a good place to busk,” Oliver said, looking back at Tristan. He sounded cheerful and friendly, but that was just a mask. I couldn’t read his true emotion.
“My friend Angela said you pulled off an impressive rendition of Jeff Buckley. That was a mighty compliment from her. She’s prickly when it comes to buskers, but good or bad, I think it takes a confident, self-assured being to put themselves out there to the public. You must be fearless.”
Between nerves and fear, I hurried to process his words. Angela had left the table once, but I hadn’t paid attention to where she’d gone. Still, even if she had seen Tristan play, she had relayed that information to Oliver. Maybe they had both caught me interacting with him just now.
Shit.
But I could play that off as something small and innocent, and it was.
Nothing really happened.
Or maybe everything happened, and the latter was why I felt this heavy wariness.
Tristan, on the other hand, held Oliver’s stare and said, “We suffer more in imagination than reality.”
Oliver chuckled, looking surprised. “The words of Seneca.”
“Was that his name?” Tristan looked like he didn’t give a fuck. “They blur together after a while.”
Oliver grinned, but there was a bite in his next words. “Let me guess, you found the quote on a fancy pin.”
Tristan smiled back, unperturbed. “Close. I wrote an essay once on Lucius Annaeus Seneca.”
I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen Oliver truly speechless. He blinked several times at Tristan, processing his words. I felt so much elation at the look on his face, it took everything in me to fight back a smile.
“You know, I thought you looked familiar,” Oliver finally remarked. “Did you study at the university here?”
“No.”
He didn’t follow that up with where he had studied or where he was from.
Oliver didn’t know what to make of him, which only made him more interested.
“Well, thank you for being a good citizen, but I really must do something to pay you back. I have a barbecue next Saturday. It starts at noon, and I’d love to have some entertainment there. My companions are charitable, and I’ll pay you well.”
Tristan took his time answering. To my relief, he didn’t look at me.
“I’ll think about it.”
Oliver looked pleased by that. He offered his hand. “I’m Oliver Black, by the way. In case my wife didn’t introduce herself, she’s Daisy.”
Tristan kept his focus on Oliver. “Tristan.”
He didn’t let him know I’d already told him my name. I felt another hit of relief at that. There was a lot I could deny in case Oliver interrogated me.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tristan.”
Oliver pulled a card from his wallet, wrote our address on the back, and handed it to him.
When it was clear Tristan wasn’t in a social mood, Oliver took me by the hand and we walked away.
Every step away from Tristan felt colder. I wanted so badly to look back at him because I might never see him again, but I refused, listening to my gut as it told me to keep walking.
To get far enough away.
By the time we slipped into the car, I held back tears, swamped with emotion and a heavy sadness.
I felt as though I had come close to something immense. Something I wanted to reach for before I even understood what it was.
But it was over and gone, and I was alone again.