“You don’t understand,” he said, drawing out his syllables as if I had a hearing impairment. He watched me and his dark eyes pierced through all of my protective layers. Talking to him was like a puzzle, a game and I struggled to stay ahead of him before he could say checkmate and take everything from me. I wouldn’t let this man control me anymore.
“Understand what?” I asked.
Tristan’s face crumpled, but only for a moment because he pulled himself back together. “You’ll never understand.” He said it like I was stupid and didn’t have the mental capability to process anything complex, and I automatically stiffened at his implied insult.
My eyes narrowed, and my cheeks burned with frustration and annoyance. Pot, meet kettle. I opened my mouth but clamped it shut again. I’d remain civil for Callum’s sake, but Tristan had to get the hell out of Grounds Zero. This was my place. My safe haven. He’d just violated my boundaries for the last time.
“You need to leave. Right now.”
He didn’t. He sat across from me, looking sadder by the second. “Did you ever wish that someone could read your mind, so you wouldn’t have to say a terrible thing out loud?”
The question surprised me. “Are you wishing that now?”
He looked around, as if he was searching for something.
“What am I missing?” I asked more softly now, and he pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
He blew out a breath and looked at me again. “I didn’t want to marry you because I loved you. I didn’t want to be with you because I thought we had some sort of romantic connection. Shit, this isn’t coming out right.”
I didn’t waver. “Then try explaining it again.”
Tristan’s breathing increased, and I could see the pulse in his neck begin to throb as his anxiety increased. “I’m gay.” He blurted the words out as if they’d been stuck in his throat for a hundred years.
Okay, I hadn’t been expecting that. I hadn’t gotten the gay vibe at all. So I tilted my head and asked, “So?”
He laughed. I wasn’t sure I had ever heard him laugh a genuine laugh, and it was a sweet, boyish sound that took me by surprise.
I waited. There was more to this story. More to this person across from me. I remembered the letters he had written to me. Remembered how hard he’d tried to please me. Why? If he was gay, why go through the trouble?
“I’m being blackmailed.”
I blinked. That was something else I wasn’t expecting. “Why? Why? What–?”
He held up a hand, and I stopped my flurry of questions. “I’ve been gay for as long as I can remember, but I didn’t come out because I knew it would hurt my parents and because my agent told me it would hurt my career.”
“Okay,” I prompted.
“A few months ago, I had a…” he looked away, as if he was ashamed to admit it, “an affair with someone I grew to really care about. Well, it turns out he only cared about my money.” Tristan met my eyes again. “He videoed us together, then blackmailed me, threatening to ruin my career by leaking it.”
I gasped, but no other words would come. I couldn’t believe it.
“I was…” he shook his head, “devastated, panicked, a hundred different things, I guess. That’s when I picked up one of your books for the first time. It seemed like you really got people, so I sent that first letter. Surprised the shit out of me when you wrote me back. Then we kept writing, and I realized you were lonely. As the pressure from Todd…” his face twisted as he said his ex–lover’s name, “increased, I started thinking that maybe you and I could, you know, help each other.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You wanted me to be your beard?”
He laughed. “Yeah, I guess. And I thought I’d be able to help your career. We could hang out together. You know?”
Yes, I did know. Everything had become very clear.
I waved a hand and sputtered, “A–and you couldn’t just…I don’t know, tell me. You were going to trick me into a relationship? You put me through hell!”
Tristan scrubbed at his face with his hands. “I know, and I’m sorry. I told you, I panicked. He wanted millions of dollars in return for the video. I paid him five million, thinking it would be over with, but…”
“He wanted more.”
“Yes. And my trust fund is set up in a way that I don’t get the entire pot until I’m thirty. Right now, I just get my bills paid by the parents.”
My mouth sagged open. “Poor little you.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know. But the point is that, this time, he wants ten million and promises to go away.”
“And you don’t believe him?”
Tristan shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
I shook my head, trying to understand it all. “So, how did I end up getting involved?”
Tristan sank down in his seat. “I got it in my head that if I was in a relationship with a respectable woman then, if Todd did release the tapes, it wouldn’t be so bad. Stupid, I know that now, but I was–”
“Panicked,” I finished for him. “Yeah, I got that part.”
“And stupid and completely fucked up. But I’ve decided to just face it all.”
I tilted my head at him. “How so?”
He leaned forward and linked his fingers together. “I’m going to tell Callum and my parents the truth. Then I’m going to tell Todd to go fuck himself and go to the police, charging him with blackmail. Then…” he lifted his shoulder, “I’ll let the chips fall where they need to fall.”
I nodded. “I think that’s a good plan. What about your career?”
He snorted. “Like I said, I’ll let the chips fall where they fall.”
I looked out the window and took another sip of my bitter coffee, unable to believe it. Not the part about him, but also my role in it all.
Without rational thought for my own safety and sanity, I had rushed headlong into a chaotic and destructive connection with this man. A man I barely knew. Why? Because I wanted to be loved. Because I wanted someone else to complete me like a heroine in my latest novel.
Because I didn’t want to end up alone for the rest of my life.
“Was any of it real?” I asked, unable to stop the words from flying out of my mouth. We’d kissed for Christ’s sake. Multiple times. I had been picturing him as a womanizer, a skirt chaser, someone who couldn’t commit. That I could handle.
But somehow, this revelation felt ten times worse. Because I’d been duped. Used. Ignorant.
“Some of it. I really liked you as a person, Lydia. I really did read your books and felt like I knew you through them. You have a wonderful way with prose. It’s what inspired me to write to you in the first place. I intuited another lonely soul, and I thought we could help each other fill the gap.”
It was validation I didn’t need, least of all from him. I nodded. A romantic to my core, I loved the love story almost as much as the love itself. Along with every other romantic notion I’d ever harbored, this one had come back to bite me. I looked away from him, diverting my sightline to the window beside the table. Out of habit, every couple of minutes, I had been lifting my cup to my lips, and now, when I did so, I found it empty.
A small part of me pitied him. With complete lucidity and the clarity of hindsight, I saw the warning signs that had been there. I’d just ignored them.
“We never have to see each other again unless it has to do with my brother. I’m just sorry I hurt you. I assure you, my heart was always in the right place. Once you meet my mother, you’ll see why. She’s a force of nature, and I’ve never been strong enough to stand up to her. To demand my independence. Like Callum has.”
“That sounds reasonable.” I mustered a tight smile. I felt as if I understood him better now, and now that I did, I could move on and focus my attention on getting to know Callum to discover his personality as we spent time together.
“I guess I should go,” Tristan said.
“Thanks for the honesty.” I wasn’t too sure how to end o
ur conversation without sounding trite. None of this had turned out how I thought it would. How I’d wanted it.
He lifted a shoulder. “I thought you had a right to know. And I wanted you to hear it from me. I owed you that much.”
Tristan Markham had turned out to be a mystery, an enigma. Even with the pieces in front of me, I still only had the straight edge pieces creating an outline of the final picture. The middle remained barren.
He tipped a pretend hat. “I’m sure I’ll see you around town. Maybe at the King James…I mean, The Cordoza.”
“Yeah,” I returned, but only to be polite. I watched as he left, and once he’d made it safely out the door, I realized my heart had stopped galloping on the wings of his confession.
And I realized something else. The person I needed to be in a love affair with was myself. In that moment, I vowed to spend some time on self–reflection and self–care. Lydia Singleton needed to become my person numero uno.
And maybe, just maybe, Callum could stop rescuing me and stand beside me instead.
The fault is mine and so must the remedy be. It was through my mistake in pride, my reserve that his character was not made known to the world. Had I not thought it beneath me to lay my private actions open to the world, his character would have been exposed.
– Fitzwilliam Darcy
Chapter 18
Callum
I stopped by Grounds Zero in hopes of catching her in person. I’d given her the space she needed and now, I no longer cared. Screw space. It was time that we hashed it out and decided whether or not we both wanted to move forward. A conscious and adult decision. One where Tristan didn’t matter or even factor in at all.
Lydia sat alone at a table for two, staring out of the window, tapping her pen against her lips. I watched her for a moment, fascinated. I loved that pensive look she often wore when she thought no one else was looking. But I noticed everything about Lydia Singleton. I noticed the flash in her eyes when an inspiring idea came to her. I noticed the curve of her lush lips as she nibbled on her pen to calm herself. My eyes were always drawn to that incredible mouth. Imagining it all over my body.
Soon.
She smiled and began writing again. Then she lifted her cup, a vanilla latte, and put it back down. I knew what was inside that cardboard cup as surely as I knew the sun rose in the east.
I went to the counter and got myself a dark roast and another latte for Lydia all without her even noticing me. A pout tugged at my mouth. Shouldn’t she feel me? I sure as hell felt her before I spotted her. My body had been wound tight upon entering the coffee shop. All because of a woman so wrapped up in her work, she’d completely blocked out the bustling and buzzing world around her.
Meandering through the tables, I approached her. She looked up and smiled when she saw me. A blinding smile. One that ripped through me with such intensity my stomach flipped over. My outstretched hand held my peace offering.
“My savior,” she said, “how did you know I needed another?”
“I don’t want to brag,” I said as I sat down across from her, drinking in her pleased expression and beaming back one of my own. It seemed I couldn’t stop smiling like the village idiot. “I’m a bit of a mind reader.”
“Of course you are,” she said with a little giggle. “It’s what contract lawyers are known for, right? What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d get away from the office for a bit. See the theater. Get some coffee.” Lydia raised her eyebrows. She probably didn’t buy my flimsy excuse, and it showed. “Besides, I’m pretty sure this was my place first. You’re just borrowing it.”
Lydia laughed again, and my cock stirred in my suit pants. I loved her laugh. I loved everything about her. “I guess you’re right. I’m a borrower.” She closed her notebook, and I wondered what she had been writing, the journey her thoughts had taken her on today. We hadn’t seen each other in a couple of days, and it felt like forever. So many times, I’d picked up my phone, yearning to hear her voice. But I hadn’t.
“How have you been?” I asked.
“She wrinkled her nose. “Busy. Deadlines are coming up, and I’m working overtime to get this done. I’m close, but it’s required a lot of coffee and not a lot of sleep. How’s the theater?” Things were still a little stilted, but I could feel us settling into something new. Something that felt like it was going somewhere.
“It’s almost done. I’m really proud of how it’s coming.”
“When’s opening night?” The real sign of a writer. She wanted to know everything.
I shrugged, sipping from my coffee. “We’ve decided on a poetry reading followed by dinner and dancing as opposed to a play. In Amelia’s honor. I’ll send you an invitation. There are a couple of details I need to iron out, but soon.” I smiled. It had been a lot of hard work, but I was excited to realize this dream of mine. It was so close I could taste it. Just like I wanted to lean in and taste the woman sitting so close to me I could smell the lingering scent of her citrus body lotion.
I hadn’t been doubting my feelings for Lydia. Even sitting across from her, my entire body breathed lust and unquenchable desire. If there weren’t others in this coffee house, I’d drag her across the narrow expanse of the table and kiss her senseless. The connection between us buzzed with electricity.
And I had fallen for her. Hook, line, and sinker.
Was it a mistake? I wasn’t sure. It wasn’t her fault that my brother kept going batshit crazy by denying his true identity and had very few redeeming qualities. Even though he’d never admitted to his sexuality, deep down, I already knew. With our already strained relationship, the last thing I wanted to do was incite him further.
Earlier this week, he’d come out to me, then had driven upstate to do the same with our parents. I still couldn’t believe he was being blackmailed like that. Tristan had also gone to the police to file blackmail charges against his former lover. I’d been keeping my eye on the tabloids, seeing if the Todd jerk would really go through with his threat, but so far so good.
Tristan had my support. I just hoped this entire mess would show him how important it was to be true to himself. And I hoped that by doing so, the underlying anger he’d held on to for so long would evaporate away.
“I’m glad I caught you here,” I said. “I want to talk to you about something.”
She was a lot tougher than I gave her credit for. I needed to trust her, and I knew that. It was just harder for me. I had trusted before, and that had ended up so badly. Ah, Amelia. I’d stopped thinking about her so much. I’d stopped obsessing. The gap she’d left that had been the size of the Cheddar Gorge had narrowed into a tight ravine I could simply hop over. If only Lydia would take my hand and leap with me, I’d do it.
“Well, you certainly have my attention,” Lydia said with a small smile. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”
“Uh, no. It’s about my brother.” I watched her closely. “He just came out to the entire family.” To my surprise, she smiled, biting her lower lip. She sipped her coffee, drawing the moment out. I had expected a bigger reaction.
“He’s gay. I already know,” Lydia admitted. Did she have some kind of freakish sixth sense? Tristan had kept all the telltale signs under lock and key. He’d always had one or more beautiful women on his arm and in rotation. No one outside of his immediate family would ever even speculate. I stared. It was my turn to be shocked.
“How did you know?” I asked. Lydia blushed, and I longed to reach over and tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear that had fallen across her cheek. Her tender vulnerability shone through. Even though she should hate Tristan outright, she didn’t. She couldn’t.
“We talked a couple of days ago. He came here. Kind of like you just did right now. He wanted to tell me in person, so things wouldn’t be so strained between us. I indulged him. For your sake.” I nodded, not sure what to say. My heart soared. She’d done it in order to please me and make my life more comfortable.
“H
ow’d you take the news? I hope he was respectful in his delivery?”
“I’m fine,” Lydia continued. “In a way, his warped courting rituals make sense. He was so desperate to please your mother, he sacrificed himself. I hope he’s happier now. I couldn’t imagine how he’s been struggling. How did your family take it?”
“It’s been a weird few days. I think Mom’s been in a coma since she found out. She’s heartbroken.” I didn’t lie. Our mother had been devastated, thinking only about our family and how it affected her and her social image. In the past, Tristan had been such a source of joy and pride for her. If she could only re–frame the information and focus on her love for her youngest son, it could be that way between them again.
“That’s so sad,” Lydia observed.
“It’ll get better. It has to get better. We’ll just move forward.” I had always thought that Tristan was so angry because he wanted the attention, in the same way he had become an actor. Since that was apparently not the case, I hoped that he could grow and mature and truly become better. He was my brother, and for better or for worse, I still loved him. I knew that our fragile relationship could only improve.
“Good,” Lydia said. I knew she meant it. That she had my best interests at heart. “I hope he can be happy with himself now. A happy and content person is rarely an angry person.”
“I agree.”
“When he said he wanted me to marry him, wanted us to be together, in order to bolster his career, I thought he was insane. Deep down, I knew he didn’t have any kind of real feelings for me in spite of all his grand and romantic gestures.”
Anger flared up, but I took a deep breath. It was all in the past. We were going to move past it. “I guess he’s a better actor than I gave him credit for.”
“He is a great actor. He’ll have an epic career without antics or grandstanding.”
“You’re forgiving him, aren’t you?” She laughed again, my new favorite sound. “How very noble of you.”
I relaxed into a smile, and into her compliment. She already read me so well.
Line: Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 17
