Chapter 13
Thirteen
Tristan
Oddly enough, her event was in the same part of town as my own project.
After days of digging—oh, who was I kidding?
obsessing was the right word—I'd finally figured it out.
Her "fashion pop-up thing in that old factory" was in fact a trendy, underground event for creatives right smack in the middle of Southside Flats.
She was definitely in the fashion industry, the secretive, sneaky little minx.
Well, two could play that game.
I was dying, absolutely dying, for a glimpse of her face without the mask.
What I hadn't counted on as I'd walked out the door for the evening? Archie wanting to come along with me.
But I supposed it was a Friday night, after all, and he didn't exactly want to start on his homework and didn't have any other plans.
I'd assumed he would want to game until he crashed out in the middle of the night, so when he'd looked up at me and asked where I was going, like he actually wanted to go, I'd invited him to join me.
"What is this place again?" he asked, glancing around the hole-in-the-wall restaurant.
So yeah, this whole trying to spy on mystery woman was not working out very well with Archie in tow. We were across the street from the old factory entrance in a kind of dive, the only spot I could think of where I could watch people coming and going and keep myself somewhat out of view.
Finding an empty table by a window, I made sure to sit down where I could most effectively survey the scene, angling my rickety wooden chair just right.
"This is your big Friday night out?" Archie asked after I ignored his previous question. "We came all the way out here to try this restaurant?"
I studied the menu, its plastic surface smudged with grease. "Yep, sure did. They have great burgers I hear."
Without looking, I knew he was staring at me, the smoke coming out of his too-large ears as he thought. "Okay. Sure, Jan."
If I wasn't so invested in my mission, I might have found the whole situation comical... dragging my little brother on a stakeout to find a masked woman who didn't want to be found.
My phone rang and it was an unknown number. Strange. With all the mysterious things going on in my life currently, I decided to pick up.
"Hello!" a bright, cheerful voice said. "Is this Tristan Hawthorne?"
"Yes," I answered warily.
"This is Linda from Ocean Breeze Getaways, and I'm calling with a special exclusive offer for seniors sixty-five and older.
You've been selected to receive a deeply discounted luxury cruise to the Caribbean!
This is a limited-time opportunity just for seniors like you.
We just need a small deposit today to secure your spot.
Can I go ahead and process that for you? "
What the fuck? "Excuse me? What on earth are you talking about? And how did you get this number?"
"Oh! Well, according to our records, you entered a raffle at the Metropolitan Club's annual gala. You might remember filling out a card for a luxury travel giveaway? That's how we got your name, and now you're eligible for this special senior offer!"
This woman thought I was over sixty-five? And that I filled out a card for a luxury travel giveaway? Why the hell would she say that?
"Just hang up, bro," Archie said, wiser than his years.
Right. He was absolutely correct. "I think you have the wrong number," I said to the woman before ending the call.
How fucking weird.
Shaking it off, I came back to the task at hand, ordering food for this always-starving beast next to me, and keeping an eye out for her.
While we waited for our dinner, a few people began to trickle by across the street, making their way toward the massive metal door of the old factory. There was a string of exposed bulbs lighting up the entrance, the only thing indicating something might be happening inside.
Leaning forward, I did my best to study each person, quickly scanning them against my memories of her, all of her luscious curves, her height wearing those damn heels, her long hair that flowed past her shoulders.
More and more people began to show up, and I watched them all like a hawk, so focused I forgot where I was. My heart pounded at the possibility of spotting her without any disguise and seeing what I knew was the most beautiful face in the world.
Food might have been served in front of me, my brother might have spoken, a chair might have been scraped across the floor behind me. But it all faded into the background as I strained to catch every last person arriving, my entire focus drilled into that propped-open factory door.
"Holy shit," I heard Archie say. "You're looking for her, aren't you?"
That caught my attention, and I turned to see him taking the biggest bite of his burger humanly possible. Opening his mouth, he started to speak again, until I held out a hand in an attempt to stop him.
To my shock, he paused. Was he actually going to listen to me after all the times I'd told him not to talk with his mouth full?
A second later, his garbled words came out. "You're totally spying on her, you dog."
Manners could wait, and so could Archie because I had an obsession to maintain. Ignoring him, I returned my focus to the window, intent on keeping up my stakeout, absentmindedly eating a fry every once in a while as I stared relentlessly.
"I'll help you," Archie said, shocking me. "What does she look like?"
"A fucking goddess."
"I thought you said not to swear."
"Do as I say, not as I do, kid."
He laughed. "Uh, okay."
The crowd of people across the street turned back into a trickle, that hope and excitement about seeing her fading into an anxious dread that this entire endeavor had been a waste and I wouldn't actually get to see her.
Fuck.
When the metal door slammed shut, absolute fucking depression set in. I picked up my now cold burger and bit into it, not even tasting it.
"Hey, can I order more food?" Archie asked, oblivious to my despair.
"Knock yourself out."
Taking his empty plate up to the bar, he spoke to the waiter there who was doing double duty tonight. I kept an eye on him as well as one on the street, because maybe she was late?
It seemed to take forever for Archie to order more food. What was he doing? Asking for everything on the menu? I wouldn't put it past him and his bottomless pit of a stomach.
Finally, he returned to the table, taking his seat beside me with a smirk on his face. "So why do you think she's hiding from you?" he asked.
It was a good fucking question, a question I didn't have an answer for. "I have no clue."
He stole a fry from my plate. "Maybe she's really a secret agent or something. Or in witness protection and you're totally getting her in trouble."
I'd told him the bare bones of how we'd met at the masked ball, obviously excluding anything that happened upstairs, and I was now regretting letting him know even that tiny bit.
"She's a pop star in disguise," he went on. "Or a princess from another country. Or a crime boss. A time traveler from the future. A vampire. Oh, I know. She's your mom."
I groaned at how disgusting that thought actually was. "She's most definitely not my mom."
He laughed loudly, drawing the attention of the people behind us. Great. Hopefully, they hadn't heard anything too terrible regarding our conversation.
Fucking teenagers.
The food was brought over, giving me blessed silence as Archie got to work eating. He really did order nearly everything on the menu.
"Don't worry," he said around a mouthful of chicken. "I'm saving room for dessert."
"Oh, good. I was really worried there for a second."
While I ignored the sounds of chewing coming from my left, I stared out the window at the closed factory door, wondering what was going on inside. Maybe I'd been distracted for a split second and missed her. For all I knew, the woman was at the event, only feet away from me.
God, I wanted to just run over there, bust the door down, and search through every person, every room, until I found her. But something held me back. Restraint. Logic. The fear of being arrested.
"I know. It's so damn sad."
Voices from the table behind us snagged my awareness.
"He's lived in that house for over seventy years," a man said. "And she moved in when they got married, fifty years ago."
A woman murmured her sympathy about whatever was happening.
"Yeah, and they've turned down ridiculous amounts of money to move out."
My ears perked up at this statement, and I slyly tried to angle my head in order to hear better.
"So now they're getting legal notices from the damn lawyers, threatening to have them evicted if they don't sell," the man continued. "And they can't afford to get their own lawyers to fight back, especially not with the cancer diagnosis and all the healthcare costs."
Jesus. Were they talking about what I thought they were talking about?
"And they're not the only ones. The whole neighborhood, all this history, being destroyed in order for flashy condos to go up."
His disgust was made clear in every word, and I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
"Maybe everyone should band together," the woman spoke up again. "Lawyers are expensive, but if everyone gave what they could, maybe it'd be somewhat affordable."
"Damn, Marie, that's not a bad idea."
I wanted to turn around and tell them that was an awful idea, to just let it all go in the name of progress, but I knew they wouldn't see it that way.
"We need to act now. Actually yesterday. Lenny's barbershop is already gone, and I hear the old bookstore is next. It's crazy. I used to go there every day after school and Miss Margie would let me read as long as I wanted. She can't sell. That place is an institution."
A twinge of something landed in my chest. What the fuck was that?
Archie caught my eye, and I wondered what he was thinking. If there was one thing my dad and his ex did right, it was getting Archie to love books. He was way into graphic novels, which, on second thought, probably had nothing to do with his parenting and everything to do with pure accident.
Did Archie know what these people were talking about? That his dad and brother's company was actually responsible for the so-called flashy condos that would soon go up here?
Nah, he couldn't know that. He didn't really pay attention to what Hawthorne Properties was doing, right? I didn't talk about work much with him, and I was pretty certain my dad didn't either.
You know what? I was so ready to get the fuck out of here. No mystery woman, weird conversations behind me, greasy table. Somehow I'd entered hell in the last hour.
With a sigh, I glanced out the window, wondering how it had all gone so wrong. Why wouldn't she tell me who she was? Not to brag or anything, but most women I met wouldn't leave me alone.
"I'm full," Archie suddenly said, scooting back from the table. "Can we go? I, uh, gotta fire a tactical nuke. Code brown, I repeat, code brown."
Lovely. I eyed the empty plates he'd left behind. "I get it. Please stop talking."
He shot me a teenage smirk, then turned to the people sitting behind us. "Hey, good luck to you all. I hope those douchebag developers step on a million legos. You don't deserve that. No one does."
His words shocked the hell out of me, both the fact that he'd spoken up at all and the pure passion lacing his voice.
While I stood there momentarily stunned, Archie reached for the nearby door, holding it open and ushering me through. "Age before beauty," he said, a favorite of his lately. "Hurry, dude, I've got to make it to home base to drop thi—"
"Yeah, yeah," I interrupted, rolling my eyes.
That was one thing I'd noticed about teenagers, how quickly they could swing from heartfelt intensity to being a total jackass.
God help me. It was one of those nights when I was regretting every decision I'd ever made.