Choosing the Hart: A Love Triangle

by René, Dani

  “Trust me, Mr. Hart, I can handle it!” I walked off in the direction of the gardens, and I heard his footsteps behind me.

  “You’re a stubborn girl, aren’t you, Miss Reid?” I walked faster, my heart racing as he followed, his footfalls quickening to catch up to me. The gardens were vast with beautiful trees; it looked like a fairytale forest.

  “I am, Mr. Hart. Think you can handle me?” I teased him. Our good mood from winning the account was contagious. I felt carefree. I glanced back and saw him a few steps behind. I hadn’t felt as excited and happy in such a long time. I felt like I couldn’t stop smiling, mostly due to Triston. I ran into the forest area between the trees, the sun still high, and the shade felt good, cooling me down. I hid behind a large oak tree. “Miss Reid, I do like games. Very much so. But what do I get when I find you?”

  “You will just have to find me and see for yourself, Mr. Hart!” I shouted as I darted behind another tree. I heard his deep laugh, and I listened to his footsteps on the grass. He was close. My heart hammered against my ribcage, and I giggled to myself. My phone beeped just then, and I knew he heard it, so I moved to another tree where I could see him from my hiding spot. I pulled out my phone.

  Unlocking the screen, it was a picture from Bash. My smile faltered; he was on a coffee farm. I shook my head and shoved the phone back in my pocket. I could deal with it later. I turned to get a glimpse of Triston, but he had disappeared from my view. I frowned and turned the other way, crashing into something hard. I looked up into steel-blue eyes. “Boo!” He laughed and grabbed me around the waist. The closeness of his body had me trembling. He pinned me against the large tree trunk, my back flush against the tree. “Now, Miss Reid, what is it that I get?” He leaned in, and I felt his warm breath on my face. His intoxicating scent overwhelmed my senses, and I arched my body into him.

  I smiled and looked into his beautiful sparkling eyes. My hand rested on his torso as I felt the hard ridges of his abdomen, and I felt the need to lick him, he felt so delectable. “What is it that you want, Mr. Hart?” I whispered.

  His devilish smirk returned, and he leaned in closer. His mouth next to my ear, sending delicious tingles through me. “What I want might be something you can’t handle, Miss Reid . . .”

  His lips brushed my neck, and I moaned. Feeling every rock-hard inch of this handsome man pressing against me sent electricity flowing through me. The need I felt at that moment surpassed anything I had ever felt.

  “Why don’t you let me decide what I can or can’t handle, Mr. Hart?” My voice was a hoarse whisper. His hands ran along my arms, causing me to shiver. He deliberately teased my lips with his tongue, the same way he did the first night outside my apartment.

  His hands reached my hips, and he held me in a vice grip. Pulling me into him, his groin rigid against me, and I knew I was slick with desire. His mouth was warm; it covered mine, and he devoured me. Letting go of any inhibitions he may have had, he kissed me, and I let him. My hands tangling in his long silken hair. I felt his stubble on my chin. He growled into the kiss as he pulled me in tighter.

  * * *

  I plated the takeaway stir-fry on two plates and looked up. I smiled looking at Triston sitting on my sofa again. He was working as usual; I didn’t think he ever stopped. We had just gotten back from Staten Island, and he wanted to buy dinner. I was too tired to go out, so we decided on takeaway. I enjoyed the afternoon with him. The kiss was incredible, but once we got on the ferry, it seemed like we were back to business. He didn’t mention the kiss or anything else for that matter. “Triston, dinner is ready,” I called to him, and he nodded. “Be right there.”

  We sat at the counter and ate in comfortable silence. I poured us each a glass of white wine. “Do we have any meetings tomorrow?” I inquired.

  “No, but we need to work on the marketing plan. If we don’t get it done, I think we may have to put in some hours tomorrow and Sunday.” I looked up quickly. Sunday. “I, uh . . . have plans on Sunday.”

  He looked at me, clearly taken aback. “You do?” I nodded. “Right. We will have to finish everything tomorrow so you can go out on your date. Or whatever it is. We can work at my place. I have my office set up with two desks so that we won’t get in each other’s way.”

  I swallowed, watching his reaction. He seemed jealous. Trying to gauge his expression was difficult. He held a brilliant poker face. “Sure, sounds good.” I licked the fork as the food was so good. I looked up, noticing that his eyes were dark and dangerous. “You are deeply distracting, you know that?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  He looked down at his plate, smiled, and finished the last of his dinner. I watched him, waiting for his response. He really did frustrate me, most times. Swallowing his food, he picked up his wine and took a sip. He caught my stare and smirked. “I meant exactly what I said. You’re distracting.”

  “Distracting in what way, Triston?” I asked incredulously. He shook his head, got up, and took his plate to the sink. He started washing it. I smiled.

  “Don’t do that.” He ignored me and proceeded to dry his plate. He opened the cupboards and found the one that held the crockery, placing his plate inside.

  “Done!” He walked back to the counter and grabbed my empty plate. Following the same procedure, I watched him wash the plate, dry it, and pack it in the cupboard. He looked at his wristwatch. “I better go; it’s late, and you need to sleep.”

  I stood, finishing the last of my wine. I leaned against the breakfast bar. “Do you like being so demanding?” I asked. His smirk answered my question. His gaze taking in every inch of my face, he finally settled on my eyes.

  “I do. It’s how I run a multi-million-dollar empire, Miss Reid.” He was frustrating me. He kissed me with such intent earlier that couldn’t have been all business to him. I felt something more. “So this” — I gestured between us — “is just business?”

  He folded his arms across his chest and looked at me. He leaned against the sink. We were at odds, standing opposite each other, neither one of us knowing what to say. He looked so sexy in his ripped blue jeans and too-tight tee. His muscles and veins were prominent and defined, and I ached to run my fingers along them. “You are my employee, Miss Reid.” I felt physical pain in my chest as his words were cold. I couldn’t let him see me cry, although I wanted to slap him.

  “Well, Mr. Hart, I suggest you not kiss your employees in the future. It’s not professional. And I suggest you leave now.” My face hardened to him, and I could tell he was frustrated at my words. I felt the tears burning my eyes, but I refused to let them spill.

  “Emily . . .” His voice was softer now, but I stopped him before he could say anything more.

  “Good night, Mr. Hart. I will see you for work tomorrow.” I walked over to the front door and held it open for him. He grabbed his laptop and phone from the living room.

  His eyes betrayed him as he walked past me. I saw some emotion there, but he didn’t let it show any further. He stood on the threshold and looked at me. “Emily . . .”

  I shut the door in his face. Hearing his footsteps on the stairs, I slid down to the door as the tears flowed.

  * * *

  I arrived at Triston’s penthouse apartment four hours earlier. It was perched high above Central Park, located at a sun-flooded corner of the tower. I noticed a wrap-around terrace with exquisite outdoor furniture. The open-plan living room and dining room were elegantly furnished. Modern furniture and masculine colors conveyed his style perfectly. Blacks, greys, and blues. A classic design with beautiful cityscape and Central Park views. The artwork hanging on the walls had beautiful accentuating colors. Reds, oranges, and purples. His office was old-worldly, furnished with two deep, mahogany desks, a wall filled with books, and a stunning Chesterfield sofa. He didn’t make mention of the night before, and neither did I.

  After making us both coffee and setting out croissants, we got to work. He was relaxed and professiona
l with me. As much as it hurt, I knew I had asked for it. I just couldn’t play his game anymore, not when my feelings were real, and his weren’t. I knew I was falling for him, but he apparently didn’t feel it. I couldn’t do anything about it; I wanted this job. He viewed this as a business transaction, and I was not prepared to be one of his deals.

  “Miss Reid, where are we with the layout plan?” he asked, pulling me from the painful thoughts in my mind. He looked up from his laptop, and when his eyes met mine, I felt a surge of love for a man who would never feel it for me. “I was about to email it to you, as well as the schedule for setup and breakdown.”

  He nodded and carried on typing. “Good.” He didn’t look up again, his voice clipped and serious. There was an icy tension in the room now, and it was distracting. My phone beeped. I picked it up and unlocked the screen. Bash.

  Sebastian: Hey darling, hope you’re not working too hard. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Bash x

  I smiled, feeling a blush heat my face, not caring if Triston noticed it. He shouldn’t be bothered by me seeing anyone. We were professional after all, but deep down it tugged at my heart. As much as I wanted to ignore my feelings for Triston, I couldn’t.

  Em: Work is boring and busy. I can cook dinner tomorrow. x

  His immediate reply beeped, and I felt Triston’s gaze on me.

  Sebastian: Sounds good. A girl that cooks, what a bonus… lol x

  I smiled at his response and felt excited for tomorrow. I didn’t feel the same magnetism I felt with Triston, but I liked Bash. He was sweet and relaxed, and he made me smile. I needed to give it a chance with Bash. I wondered what I should make. I knew he wasn’t vegan, so that made it much easier. “Boyfriend?” Triston stared at me, his gaze demanding, but his voice was cool and calm. “Maybe. Who knows?” I answered nonchalantly. Something flickered in his gaze. Something dark.

  “Mmm . . .” He looked back at his screen and carried on working.

  * * *

  I closed my laptop and slid it into my bag. We had finished the whole marketing plan, and I was starting to see double from staring at the screen all day. I checked the time; it was six. I needed to get dinner. Take-out would be good. Triston came back into the office holding two glasses of chilled white wine, condensation clouding the glasses, and I felt the need to hold it against my face to cool me down. “Join me?” Handing me a glass, he turned and walked into the living room.

  I followed him. “What’s this for?” I held up the glass.

  “A drink to thank you for today. Is that okay?” Nodding, I took a sip. The wine was crisp and refreshing after the long day.

  “Sure. I will just have one, though. I haven’t eaten.” I sat on the sofa and watched him move to the docking station for the iPod. He scrolled through the albums and pressed play. “We can remedy that. I know a lovely little place—”

  “No thank you,” I cut him off. I recognized the music filling the living room. The ethereal Icelandic band Sigur Rós. I had a couple of their albums. Hoping to change the subject, I gestured to the speakers. “I like them.”

  I took in his appearance as he stood at the stereo. Dressed in blue, ripped jeans that seemed to hug his hips and thighs, his white tee hung loosely on his upper body, making me wonder what was beneath. I couldn’t help but notice how sexy he looked.

  He nodded. “They’re really good. I figured we could relax for a bit and talk.” Making his way back toward me, he slid onto the sofa next to me. “Look, Em, I’m not used to being with anyone in any way other than business—”

  I sat forward and looked at him. “Please, don’t explain anything. It’s okay. You are my boss. That’s all. I understand.” I stood up and put the glass on the table. I walked back into the office and grabbed my bag and coat. I didn't feel like doing this. I was already angry, and I didn't want to fight.

  “Emily.” He stood up and watched me walk past the sofa, but he didn’t make a move to stop me. He had his chance, and he didn’t take it.

  “I better get going. See you Monday.” I got to the door and grabbed the handle. Turning around, I mistakenly looked back. There was a pleading in his eyes, and it tugged at my heart. All I wanted to do was run into his arms and never let go. I was so confused, what did he want? He made this choice when he said we were nothing more than boss and employee.

  His smile had a certain sadness attached to it. “Goodnight, Emily.” And there I had my answer.

  Chapter Five

  When I opened my eyes Sunday morning, I felt a dull ache in my chest from Triston’s words the day before. What I needed was to forget about Triston and every romantic feeling I had for him. That was easier said than done, naturally. I turned on the coffee machine and opened the balcony doors, inhaling the fresh, early morning air. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to enjoy the day. I wasn’t seeing Triston, and it was a small relief, although I would rather be near him. The beautiful blue eyes haunted my dreams in the night, always there, in the back of my mind.

  My phone rang from the kitchen, pulling me out of my reverie. Picking it up, I saw Triston’s name flashing on the screen. What did he want? Didn’t he do enough damage last night? Swiping the screen, I answered the call. “Hello?”

  “Miss Reid, I apologize for the interruption on a Sunday,” his deeply formal voice greeted me. My heart tugged in pain. “I just got off the phone with Mr. Jacobson. He wants us to fly out to LA tomorrow. I want you packed and ready. I will pick you up at nine a.m.” I stared at the wall, not sure what to say. Why would Triston take me to LA? “Uhm . . . LA? For how long?” I mumbled. Silence greeted me. Then I heard him typing. “He says three days. We need this, and you need to be there. He wanted you on his account.”

  I remembered at the presentation, Mr. Jacobson asked for me specifically. “Okay, sure, what about flights?”

  “I have paid for them already. Think of it as a business vacation, Miss Reid. I will be at your door tomorrow morning. Please make sure you’re dressed.” He stayed silent for another few minutes. “Have a good day, Emily.” His voice was soft, and there was a lingering sadness to the way he said my name. I felt tears burning my eyes and blinked them away.

  I nodded. Realizing he couldn’t see me, I mumbled, “Thank you. Same to you, Triston.”

  * * *

  The doorbell buzzed at midday. I picked up the intercom. “Hello?” I heard the deep, sexy rumble of Sebastian.

  “Hello, gorgeous!” Pressing the button to unlock the foyer door, I opened my apartment door and waited at the threshold. He came bounding up the stairs with a handful of beautiful white roses.

  “Wow, Bash, they’re gorgeous. You should go away more often,” I teased him. He pulled me into a grip with his free arm and gave me a tight hug.

  “Well, I might have to if all goes well with the suppliers I saw in Brazil! Also, my new investor is happy with the way things are going.” His lips found mine, and I melted into his warm body. As soon as I started to relax in his embrace, blue eyes flashed through my mind. I pulled away, smiling, and let Bash in. He handed me the flowers and closed my apartment door. Taking the bouquet to the kitchen, I grabbed a vase and filled it with water. “Well, you might have to put up with not seeing me for a little while after today. I am flying to LA tomorrow.” Arranging the roses in the glass vase, I turned and placed it on the counter.

  Bash’s eyes met mine. “Why?” He slid onto the barstool at the counter, watching me.

  “I am flying to LA with my boss tomorrow. We have a new client to impress, and I was one of the prerequisites for us landing the account.” He narrowed his eyes and nodded. He stood and walked around to me. Wrapping his arms around my waist, he pulled me against him. His body was solid. “A prerequisite. Wow, that’s interesting. So, if I was a client, you could be my prerequisite?” he asked, winking and giving me his devilish smirk.

  “Don’t be cheeky!” I laughed, swatting his arm. “Let me cook now!” He released me with a quick kiss. I busied myself in the kitchen with the
vegetables. Bash stood at the living room balcony. “You have an amazing view!”

  “Yes, I love it. That was the main reason I wanted this apartment.” I remembered viewing the apartment. I was excited for the open-plan living room-kitchen area as well as the amazing view. I put the deposit down immediately.

  He nodded and walked into the kitchen. “So, my wench, what are you cooking for me?” he asked playfully as he wrapped his arms around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. My skin tingled from the feeling of his five o’clock shadow against my neck. It felt rough and sexy, like everything about him. “I’m making lasagna, my good sir. would that be to your satisfaction?” I replied, playing along. “And you can help yourself to a beer in the fridge.”

  He kissed my neck lightly and walked over to the refrigerator, oblivious to the effect his kiss had on me. “Wow, you bought beer just for me?” He pulled one out and shut the door.

  “Yeah, I figured you didn’t drink wine, so beer it is.” He winked and pulled up a barstool at the breakfast bar, watching me prepare the vegetables. I turned to the stove and turned on the burner.

  “So, tell me about the company you work for?” he asked. I heated the oil and added the vegetables. “I do marketing and event management for Je Te Veux Events—”

  Bash spluttered and choked on his beer. I spun around. “Bash, you okay?” I grabbed some paper towels and handed it to him. I grabbed another sheet and wiped the counter. I stared at him in concern.

  “Yeah, fine. I didn’t realize you worked for Triston.” My mouth fell open, and a cold chill filled my body as I felt goosebumps on my skin. I stared at him in shock. “You know Triston?”

  Sebastian gave a quick laugh and shook his head. “You could say that, yeah.” I waited for him to explain. When he didn’t, I asked again.