Choosing the Hart: A Love Triangle

by René, Dani

  “Triston . . . I am sure there is an explanation for this.” I pointed at the screen, but even as the words left my mouth, I didn’t believe them.

  He turned to me. “Really? He is fucking around on the most beautiful woman to grace his presence. Now you’re telling me there’s an explanation. Excuse me.” He got up and walked to the restrooms. I gasped at his words. He just called me beautiful. My heart raced, and I felt a blush on my cheeks. I pulled his laptop over to my tray and looked at the photo. The caption mentioned his name as well.

  Sebastian Hart, owner of Tribal Fuel, on vacation with beautiful Shantay, model and actress.

  It’s her! He was all over her. There was no denying they were together. I couldn’t stand to look at the photo for another minute. I minimized the browser window. There was a document open behind it. I knew I shouldn’t snoop, but my curiosity got the better of me. What do they say? Curiosity killed the cat? Yup, that cat was me! The words I read brought tears to my eyes. My heart hammered in my chest. The pain in the poem was clear, the words tugged at my heart, and I wanted so much to hold Triston at that moment.

  Not being allowed to touch you is complete torture.

  I would rather just kiss you than to pretend I don’t want you,

  I have been fidgeting all day.

  I can’t stop tapping my fingers.

  It feels like I want to scratch at my skin when you're not around.

  I am coming down from a high, that’s exactly what it feels like.

  You are a drug I have become addicted to and it hurts that I can’t be with you.

  The only thing that satiates the craving is your laugh, your smile, and your words.

  It’s so hard not to be with you.

  It was so beautiful. I wonder who he was talking about? I looked up startled and saw his eyes blazing. “What are you doing?” He grabbed his laptop and closed it. I sat back, giving him a small shrug. Our eyes locked, and the electricity crackled between us. “Nothing. I just closed the photo and then, there it was . . .” I motioned to his laptop. I was completely lost for words as he slid back into his seat and put his hand on my knee, giving it a small squeeze. “Don’t do that again, please? It is private.” I saw the pain behind his pleading gaze. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to feel him against me and kiss him so much it hurt.

  I looked into his intense stare. “Why? Who is it for?” I asked, his gaze burning into me. He shook his head just as the flight attendant arrived with our sandwiches. Took her long enough, I thought angrily. I grabbed my phone and saw a message from Bash.

  Sebastian: Hey babe, just saying hi! B

  I hit reply as I wasn’t in the mood for his lies right now, I felt the anger flare in my stomach.

  Em: Did you have fun with Shantay in Brazil?

  My phone rang. Bash’s name flashed on the screen, and I hit the cancel button. My phone rang again; I was simmering watching his name flash on my screen. “Answer it. I am intrigued to hear what he is going to say,” Triston whispered in my ear. As angry as I was, his breath sent shivers through me. I looked at Triston in complete shock. He nodded.

  “Hello?” Immediately I was sorry I even checked my phone. I wasn’t in the mood for this.

  “Babe, look. It’s not what it looks like. We just posed for a photo.” He pleaded like a guilty man. Why was it ‘it’s never what it looks like’? It’s captured on camera.

  “That wasn’t a posed shot, and she has your number too. Do not lie to me, Bash.”

  Triston looked at me then, shaking his head. He opened his laptop and messaged someone on his IM. A reply pinged, and he turned the screen toward me. There was another photo, not taken by the media. It was a PI photo. I read Triston’s message to the unknown contact. “Show her the other pics.”

  Another pic came through. “Babe? You there?” Bash’s voice was strained; he knew he was caught. The second photo was even more incriminating than the last. Shantay was sitting on Bash’s lap, his hand between her upper thighs. “Bash, don’t call me again.” I hung up before he could say anything. Tears stung my eyes. Triston closed his laptop, lifted the armrest between our seats, pulling me to him. My phone started ringing again. Triston held out his hand. “Give it to me now!” he ordered, his voice in a low whisper. I passed it to him.

  He answered the call. “What do you want? She told you not to call.” I couldn’t hear what Bash was saying, but it sounded like he was shouting. “Dear brother, if you come near her again, you will have me to answer to. Do you understand me.” It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t wait for a reply. He powered off my phone.

  He kissed my head softly. “It will be okay . . . You’re with me.” I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I didn’t care. I just enjoyed the closeness he offered.

  * * *

  “You definitely need to fix it!” Triston shouted at the receptionist. We were standing at the reception desk of the stunning Sofitel Hotel; Triston was not happy. Mr. Jacobson’s assistant booked us into a suite instead of booking two separate rooms. Running his fingers through his hair, I could tell he was exasperated at the situation. I tugged on his arm, turning him to face me. “It’s okay. It’s only for a few days. Let’s just take it.” I was tired, and all I could think of was a hot shower.

  When his eyes met mine, I could see he was tired as well. “Are you sure?” I nodded. He turned back to the trembling receptionist. “Check us in, and give me two key cards. I apologize for the scene.” She nodded quickly and continued with the check-in process. Placing two key cards on the desk, she gave him a meek smile. Triston grabbed the key cards and nodded. “Thank you.” Grabbing the handle of his suitcase, he turned to hand me one of the cards. I wasn’t sure why he got two. It wasn’t like I was going anywhere without him.

  “My apologies for the confusion, Mr. Hart,” she mumbled.

  He looked at me with those steel-blue eyes. “Let’s go, beautiful.” My stomach fluttered at his words. Since the argument on the plane and Bash being a complete jerk, Triston was so attentive, more than he normally was. It was strange to see how quickly his moods changed. It was like flipping a coin. I wonder what went on in that beautiful mind? At the elevator, I pressed the call button and stood back. I blushed thinking about the last time I was in an elevator with him. When the car arrived, we stepped inside. “Floor?” I looked at him.

  “We’re on six,” he replied, his voice soft and deep. We were sharing a room for three days. The thought made my heart race. My stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing Triston in nothing but his towel. I smiled and looked at the carpet in the elevator. “A penny for your thoughts?” His deep voice startled me out of my wayward thoughts.

  I shook my head. “Just excited to be here.” Biting my lip to keep from bursting into fits of giggles, I looked up at him. His eyes darkened, falling on my mouth.

  “You need to stop doing that, Miss Reid.” His control was seemingly faltering, his scratchy voice pulling at my core. I didn’t even realize I was doing anything. I don’t do it on purpose, but it made me smile that I had such an effect on him.

  The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open. We stepped into the hallway and turned to our right. Walking passed a few doors on either side, we reached our room. Triston slid the key card in and opened the door, holding it open for me. The room was beautiful. With deep browns and blues, it felt relaxing, and I was looking forward to doing just that. There was beautiful dark wood furniture, which lent to the relaxing ambiance of the room, in a spacious living room area, with a sofa, table, and television cabinet. The separate bedroom was huge with an en suite bathroom, and a balcony that overlooked the ocean and the city below. I did notice there was one king-sized bed. My body trembled at the thought of sleeping next to Triston. With the deep-rooted tension between us, I could tell this was going to be interesting. Would he finally let me in? Was there a chance for us? My heart hoped for an opportunity.

  “I will take the sofa; you have the bed. I am so sorry they fucked up the rooming arran
gements.”

  I shrugged, putting on a calm exterior, hoping he would relax about it too. “No Triston, we’re adults, and it’s a huge bed.”

  He looked at me with those beautiful sparkling eyes and gave a brief nod. “We can talk about it later.” His cool control back in full force.

  * * *

  An hour later, we were in a silver Mercedes SUV. Mr. Jacobson had his driver pick us up to escort us to the Jacobson mansion in Hollywood Hills. We pulled up to large, ornate, black gates that opened slowly, allowing access to the most beautiful sprawling estate I had ever seen. I gasped. Triston grabbed my hand and squeezed it. He leaned down and whispered, “Welcome to the other side, Miss Reid.” I felt a shiver on my skin from his warm breath. My hand tingled at his touch, and I savored the feeling. I was conscious of the need I felt to have his warm, soft hands on me and how I ached to have them on me all the time.

  I smiled at him. “Thank you, Triston. You have no idea how much this, and you, mean to me.” The words tumbled out before I could catch them. My heart raced realizing what that must have sounded like. I scolded myself. Why on earth would I say something like that when he made it so clear there was nothing between us? I needed to keep my comments to myself.

  “And you to me, Miss Reid.” His eyes seared into mine. The heat in them was unbearable. Like when one stares at the sun, unable to look away. His words caught me off guard, my heart hammering in my ears, and I hoped he couldn’t hear it too. He turned, opening the car door, and I realized we had stopped.

  He came around to my side and opened my door. I slid out of the car, happy that Triston suggested we change before coming here. I was wearing one of the black, knee-length dresses I brought along, with black pumps. Triston looked terrific as usual in black slacks and a white dress shirt. He had a beautiful cerulean tie on, which accentuated his eyes.

  He grabbed my hand and laced his fingers through mine. The gesture was sweet, and a sense of calm filled me. He exuded confidence, which melded into me, and all the tension between us disappeared. I loved this side of him; he was happy. There was something that seemed to make my heart smile. As we walked up to the large, dark wood doors, they opened, and Mr. Jacobson greeted us with open arms and a massive smile. “Ah, there are my two favorite people! Welcome! Please come in.” He shook Triston’s hand, and he hugged me and kissed my cheek. Triston pulled me alongside him, and I tingled from the feel of his body close to mine.

  “Let’s get some supper and talk business!” We walked through the entrance foyer, which was the size of my apartment. The architecture took my breath away. Outside, the red face-brick, the interior was a mix of old-world charm and modern lines with dark wood mixed with glass. There were large, modern, paint-splattered artworks hanging on the walls and a large, sweeping staircase led to the second floor. Triston glanced at me and smiled as I walked through in awe of the home. His eyes creased at the corners, and that sweet crinkle in his nose made me smile.

  Mr. Jacobson led us through a study and out onto a lush manicured garden. “So, tell me, is the hotel okay? I have only used them once before.”

  Before Triston could answer, I stepped in. “Yes! It’s beautiful. The room is exquisite.” Triston’s gaze was one of amusement. He shook his head, squeezing my hand. I smiled, sticking out my tongue. His eyes burned into me again, and as they darkened, I knew there was something more between us.

  We sat in the warm LA sunshine and had a light supper of tapas and a fantastic salmon salad. Mr. Jacobson toasted our business arrangement with a crisp white wine. We discussed the event and the requirements. We were going to have a busy day tomorrow, setting up the meeting plans. We needed to confirm all the scheduled dates with the venues. That was imperative to everything running smoothly. Since it was an international event, Triston and I would be getting in a lot of air miles.

  After lunch, Mr. Jacobson escorted us back to the car. “Right, you two young’uns have yourselves a good evening. Tomorrow, we work!” We had the afternoon free, and I was excited to explore. I wondered what Triston wanted to do; maybe we should go to the beach? I thought of Triston in swim shorts, and I knew that would be a good idea.

  “Did you have any ideas on what you wanted to do, Emily?”

  I turned to look at Triston and giggled. “Have I been promoted from Miss Reid?” I asked him jokingly.

  He smiled, leaning over, whispering in my ear, “You were promoted a long time ago, beautiful.” I trembled. “Miss Reid I will keep for when you . . . frustrate me.”

  His hot breath on my ear sent delicious shivers over my skin. The fire he ignited in my stomach flared, and I squirmed in my seat. He traced the outline of my ear with his tongue, and I bit my lip to keep from moaning out loud.

  “Jesus, Triston! The driver can see you!” I hissed at him, and he let out a carefree laugh.

  “Oh, Miss Reid, you do make me laugh.” He grabbed my knee, giving it a squeeze. Electricity zinged through me again. I shook my head and turned to look out my window, trying desperately to ignore the fact that his hand had my skin on fire.

  The driver pulled into the drop-off area at the hotel ten minutes later. We made our way back to the room. I definitely needed to change — it was way too hot! “Did you want to go to the beach?” I asked Triston. I picked up my suitcase, too nervous to make eye contact.

  “Yeah, that sounds good! You just want to see me without a shirt on,” he growled. I giggled at his comment. It was like he could read my mind. Of course, I wanted to see him without a shirt on.

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Hart!” I retorted, picking up a cushion and throwing it at him. He caught it and winked at me. He was a lot more relaxed now, and I found the tension in my shoulders ease.

  I unzipped my suitcase, rummaging through the clothes. I found my black bikini, black board shorts, and crocheted white top. “I am going to change.” I closed my suitcase.

  “You change here. I want to hop in the shower first.” Triston walked passed me to the bathroom. He had black and silver swim shorts in his hand and nothing else. My mind wandered at the thought of seeing him in those. This was not going to help the sexual tension between us.

  I waited until I heard the shower start. Stripping down, I changed into my bikini. It was a plain black halter top with a silver diamanté heart in the middle. The Capri bottoms were black with three straps over each hip holding together the front and back. There were diamanté on either side. I pulled my top and shorts on and decided to tie my hair up. I had my hair halfway into a ponytail when Triston walked out of the bathroom in nothing but his swim shorts. My breath left me, and I froze.

  My eyes roamed the naked, taut torso of my boss. His arms and body were exquisitely cut. Striking, sexy veins ran from his forearms into his hands. His abs were rock hard and formed to complete perfection. There was a prominent sculpted V-shape pointing into his low-slung, black swim shorts. I drank him in, every exquisite inch of his perfect body. I wanted so much to run my hands and tongue over that torso. “Are you enjoying the view, Miss Reid?” he asked in absolute amusement. I averted my eyes. I felt the heat on my face, and I knew I was bright red.

  “I . . . I . . . am . . .” His laugh was soft and friendly. I was at a loss for words. My whole body was on fire, yearning and aching to feel that rock-hard body against me. I spun around, facing the wall, trying to calm the knot in my stomach. I finished tying my hair and picked up my phone. I didn’t turn it on. I just needed some distraction from looking at him.

  “Is that stubborn mind of yours working overtime?” He was right behind me. I felt the heat radiating from his naked skin warming my back. I was trembling without him even touching me.

  “No . . . no . . . certainly not!” My voice came out strangled. I cleared my throat and put my phone in the drawer. Triston laid his hands on my shoulders, and the searing heat that filled my abdomen was unbearable. The electricity that shot through me was intense, and I ached for more.

  He turned me around to face him. H
is index finger trailing a feather-light line from the back of my ear along my jaw until his fingers rested on my chin, lifting it. My eyes met his intense gaze. “Will you have fun with me today? Forget Bash, forget work, and just have fun?” His caring nature was so beautiful as he pleaded with me, while I smiled.

  I nodded. “Okay, Mr. Hart, I will do as you please.” His eyes flared with darkness at my words. I was mesmerized at the midnight blue taking over his normally steel-blue eyes. I didn’t dare look down. I knew if I saw his body again, I would probably drag him to the bed, and we wouldn’t leave the room.

  He kissed my forehead softly, which ignited little sparks on my skin, and I felt myself blush. “Okay, then it’s settled! I do look forward to you pleasing me, Miss Reid.” He turned around. I was stunned by his words. Watching the muscles in his back ripple as he moved, his broad shoulders flexed as he grabbed a T-shirt, pulling it over his head. I felt myself breathe again. “And leave that god damn phone right there,” he ordered, the control returning to his voice. I smiled and shook my head.

  * * *

  The taxi dropped us off at Venice Beach. It was my first visit to the infamous beach, and it was everything that I thought it would be. It was a quiet afternoon. There were tourists snapping shots of their family with the beach in the background. The beachfront shops were selling some amazing trinkets and ice creams. We strolled around for a few minutes, stopping at a store to buy sunblock. It had a fantastic vibe, and I felt relaxed. “Triston!”

  We both turned around to the sultry voice behind us. A beautiful, leggy, bleached blonde in a tiny bikini ran up to him. She threw her arms around him, and he gave her a reluctant hug, a bit of jealousy hit me hard. She was tanned and beautiful, and she must have been a model. “Jenna, how are you?” he asked in a guarded tone. I felt so short and frumpy compared to her.