“I’m going to say what I said before,” Sloane began quietly, “this is your problem to fix however you see fit. You were the one who suggested these rules, and I understand the extenuating circumstances, but know that just because you made them, doesn’t make you exempt. If at any point, the situation is in danger of threatening the Guild and our work, I expect you to step down and leave.”
Tristan let out the breath he had been holding. Sloane wasn’t the type to demand he leave the Guild immediately; Pierce, on the other hand, would have been a different story. That being said, he knew that Sloane’s perception of him had changed tonight; he’d let him down.
“I will,” Tristan vowed.
“As far as how to handle it with your girl…I don’t know that I have the answer to that. The way I see it, at some point, you’ll either have to leave her or tell her. You’ll have to choose to hurt her to a known extent or choose the option that might completely crush her, but might also completely save your relationship; you’ll have to choose between the devil you know and the devil you don’t.”
Tristan hung his head in acknowledgement of the decision he would ultimately face. Sloane always knew how to provide a clear, outside perspective – that’s why Tristan had reached out to him. As he raised his hand to signal the bartender for a third round, the unfortunate, unspoken conclusion of Sloane’s thoughts rang loud and clear in his head.
It’s safer to choose the devil you know.
Chapter 22
Ellie woke the following morning to her usual seven AM alarm, the beeping particularly painful this morning due to the throbbing in her temples.
Perhaps the half a bottle of red wine had not been the best idea.
Best or not, it had been needed – the hours of ignorantly blissful amnesia it provided far outweighed the current discomfort in her head. Groggily reaching over, she grabbed the source of the offending noise, shutting the alarm off to see that she had an unread message from Tristan; the realization quickly reviving her. Opening up the message, she quickly scanned the text before promptly shoving her head back into the pillow.
-Good morning, siren. I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation last night, as I heard you did, too. Hopefully, this morning isn’t too painful for you though. You should really ease into drinking that much.
Ellie groaned in mortification – what had she done?
Taking a few deep breaths into her pillow, she wondered whether it would be curiosity or embarrassment that killed her first.
Curiosity won out.
Pulling her phone back in front of her face, she scrolled up through the conversation she’d apparently had with Tristan last night of which, she had little recollection. She stopped her finger right at the part where Tristan told her he couldn’t come over for a drink because he had ‘responsibilities’, the words vaguely familiar in her memory, everything after them though was a complete blank. Biting her lip, she began reading a part of her night that was lost to the wine.
~ I say that you join me in forgetting responsibilities for a night and choose fun instead.
- Are you drunk, siren?
~ I dunno…Am I? What does it feel like?
- Relaxing. Every cell in your body feels numb. Your body feels on fire.
~ So, like after you make me come?
- Fuck, Ellie. No, not quite like that.
~ I was gonna say, this doesn’t feel as good…
Ellie locked her phone humiliation, putting her hand up to her face to feel her cheeks on fire. She could never drink again; she didn’t remember thinking or saying any of this. Opening up the message again, she continued to read,
- Let me show you how.
~ You said you couldn’t come here.
- I’m not, but you don’t need me.
~ I don’t understand.
- Ellie, I want you to imagine that I’m there and trust me, I fucking wish that I was. I want you to take your hand and touch yourself. You’re already wet, trust me.
~ I can’t do that.
- You can.
The conversation abruptly ended there. Ellie reread the words over again, trying to remember what happened. When she closed her eyes, her memory was a blank, but all she could hear was Tristan’s voice, ‘Touch yourself. Put one finger inside. Tell me how warm it is inside.’ His words rang crystal-clear, as if she had actually heard him say them.
Her eyes shot open, closing the message and opening up her ‘Recent Calls’. Sure enough, Tristan Black was at the top of the list.
She’d heard him, because he had called her. She’d heard him, because he’d actually said those things to her.
Brief snapshots of the end to her night now flashed back to her. His deep, dark voice instructing her to take off her underwear. Her moans at the first touch of her own fingers on the slick folds that had been contained beneath, her gasp as she put two fingers inside of herself. The struggle between focusing on her pleasure and focusing on Tristan’s voice, on doing what he was telling her. She remembered answering him, “I’m so wet, Tristan.”
“Wet for me,” he bit out, his own desire for her evident in his voice.
“Yes,” she’d whispered back, even though what he said wasn’t a question.
She remembered her orgasm, screaming his name into the phone. She couldn’t remember what he had said then. She felt like he wished her goodnight just before alcohol and exhaustion completely overtook her.
Setting her phone down, she rolled over with a sigh, rubbing her legs together to confirm that yes, what she remembered wasn’t a dream because she was still missing her lower undergarments. Staring at the ceiling, Ellie started to laugh.
Getting drunk. Drunk texting her hot boss. Who was she turning into?
Whomever it was, she wanted to be her more often.
She sat up in bed, reaching over into her nightstand drawer to pull out a fresh pair of underwear. Feeling relatively clothed, she struggled out of the warm comfort of her bed, traipsing into the kitchen in search of food. Thankfully, her apartment wasn’t freshly stocked with chocolate chip muffins, which meant she could have a decently healthy breakfast this morning. Pulling the carton of yogurt from the fridge, she mixed in some fresh blueberries and a little bit of granola, taking a seat at her small kitchen table.
Her apartment wasn’t anything special – certainly not like Tristan’s. She’d made good money working for her father and she was sure that part of that was due to the fact that he was her father, but the argument to be paid less was not one worth having. Jack Carter was a stubborn man, and when he had an idea of what he wanted done, that’s what got done. He hadn’t always been like that, Ellie was pretty sure; it seemed to get worse after her mother had died when he’d had to make all the decisions, there was no time to question them.
Her father was a determined man, that was for sure, but when it came to his daughter, she was probably the only one who could force his hand – which she’d had to do when she decided to leave his firm. He was hurt and sad, asking her if it was about the money or the workload, concerned that he hadn’t given her enough of one and too much of the other. She’d reassured him over and over again that neither was the case, explaining that her heart just wasn’t in it, and now that she felt like she had time to follow her heart, she wasn’t going to pass up the chance. As soon as she had put her foot down and told him that she was sorry, but that she wouldn’t work for him anymore, he had caved. Apologizing for not understanding, he told her over and over again how proud he was of her, not just for the work she had done for him, but whatever she chose to do in the future, he would always be in her corner.
He’d then offered to pay for whatever she wanted or needed until she got a job in whatever field she decided on. Ellie laughed at the offer; she wasn’t going ask him for any more help. He’d paid for all of her hospital bills and medication, whatever insurance didn’t cover. He’d paid her for sick time that she knew she wasn’t supposed to be getting. He was her father and he’d done everything to ma
ke sure she wasn’t strained by anything other than her cancer, which was the only thing out of his control.
Her dad had been almost more upset by her refusal of his financial support than when she told her she was quitting his firm. She needed to just be on her own now, after being handicapped for so long. Everything that she had endured, and everything that her father had done to help her, made it so that she had a nice little nest egg put aside for her next…her first adventure. She could be out of work for a very long time and as long as she didn’t go crazy, it wouldn’t affect her lifestyle. Even now, she was making money with this modeling contract with Tristan. It wasn’t a lot, but it sure was a lot more than she had expected – almost five-thousand dollars for the duration of the project. When she signed the contract, it had seemed exorbitant. Now, after meeting him, it made a little more sense.
Crap!
Ellie darted back into the bedroom, just remembering that she forgot to respond to his text from earlier. Opening her phone, she saw that she had another new message from him.
- Are you ok?
She quickly typed up a response, grateful that the auto-correct Gods seemed to be on her side today.
~ Yes, sorry…it was a rough night. Or I guess more so a painful morning.
- I was going to say, it sounded to me like you thoroughly enjoyed yourself last night.
Ellie blushed, knowing the pun was intentional.
~ Did you?
- I enjoyed all the parts that involved you.
~ Was there more than one? I don’t remember.
- Let’s just say you weren’t the only one who needed a release last night, siren.
Ellie choked on a piece of granola, quickly trying to wash it down with some water. Her stomach clenched as she pictured Tristan jacking off to the thought of her.
Wow, that was a turn-on.
Just as she was sure hearing her masturbate last night had been to him.
~ So, have you addressed all of your responsibilities?
- I wish – big week for me and Black Box, hopefully.
~ I’m sure it will be; I don’t know that I’ve ever seen or heard of you not getting what you want.
- Oh, there have been times, sweetheart, there have been times…I can even think of one in the past twelve hours.
Ellie knew he was referring to her. Before she could respond, another message came in from him.
- I have no doubt my business responsibilities will be successful, what I’m more concerned about is how I’m going to celebrate that success this coming weekend.
~ What did you have in mind?
- You. Saturday night. My place at six o’clock. Wear something nice, we’ll celebrate in style.
Ellie felt shivers run down her spine in anticipation.
~ Yes, boss.
- Feeling sassy this morning, are we?
~ Maybe.
- Well, siren, I gotta go work on those responsibilities of mine. I’ll deal with that smart mouth of yours later.
Ellie bit her lip as her face broke into a smile. She loved how he made her feel interesting and intriguing. She’d tried to just blend in for so long, lost in the pain and uncertainty of where her cancer would leave her, wondering if was her destiny to just fade into nothingness. When she’d gone into remission, she’d been given a second chance – one that she didn’t know how to take. Now, because of Tristan, she was finally starting to figure it out; she was finally starting to figure out how to make a new path for her life.
Unless…
As if the universe knew just where that thought would take her (back to her appointment yesterday), her phone began to buzz. At first, she thought it was Tristan again, but unless he was calling from his office line, the phone number that showed up wasn’t recognized.
She picked up the call, “Hello?”
“Hi, is this Elsa Carter?” the polite receptionist responded.
“Yes, speaking.”
“Hi, this is Elaine from Dr. Sion’s office. She wanted me to give you a call and see if you would be available to come in this coming Saturday to see her?”
“I…um…sure.” Ellie swallowed the lump in her throat. “Is everything ok?”
“She just wants to go over the results of your blood test with you in person. They should be back to us by the end of day Friday and she was adamant that she sees you on Saturday,” Elaine offered, her attempt to make the appointment sound routine and not a cause for worry failing.
Crap, Saturday.
“Of course,” Ellie replied, her voice thick as she tried to retain control of her emotions, “what time do you have available?”
“She’s pretty busy, but, like I said, she was insistent that we get you in, so if you could come for four o’clock?”
Double crap.
“That’s fine.”
“Wonderful. We’ll see you on Saturday then.” Ellie numbly hung up the phone, setting it face down on the counter.
It was never good when they wanted to discuss test results in person. Picking up her bowl, she walked over and put it in the sink in a daze. On top of that, of course Dr. Sion wanted to see her on Saturday, just hours before she was supposed to meet Tristan. If she had to be there at four, she should still be able to make it to his apartment on time. It never took that long to go over results…even when the results were unfavorable.
For the third time.
She blinked as drops of cold water dropped splashed on her face, realizing that somehow, she’d made it into her bathroom and was turning on the shower. Her body was mindlessly going through the motions of what she needed to accomplish this morning even though her mind was far, far away. At least she didn’t feel the pounding in her head anymore; she didn’t feel the chill of the air as she stripped naked; she didn’t feel the ice-cold water as she stepped in the shower before it had a chance to warm up.
The cold never bothered her, anyway.
It froze away the anxious heat flowing through her body, her brain refusing to consider the option that everything could be fine.
Having cancer teaches you to never hope for the best, because not expecting the worst is far more devastating.
Ellie mindlessly washed her hair and body, slowing scrubbing over the scars from her hospital stays. Every time she cleaned over them it was like she was trying to wash the evidence of her past off her body – knowing it was an impossibility.
Just like she felt it was now an impossibility to wipe the cancer completely from her body.
She knew she was crying because her tears were warm against her cheek, in contrast with the chilled water from the shower.
What was she going to do?
Would she tell Tristan? Could she tell Tristan?
Ellie shook her head in a silent answer. She’d seen what losing her mom had done to her dad. She couldn’t do that to Tristan, even if he begged her to. If it came to that, the cancer wouldn’t take her gently, it wouldn’t take her gracefully, it would take her slowly and cruelly; the process would be ugly. He would never want to draw her like that, he would never even recognize her.
Her ‘exquisiteness’ would be extinguished.
Stepping out of the shower into the steamy solitude of her bathroom, Ellie dried herself off, glancing at her heat-flushed skin in the mirror. She hadn’t planned on showering again before her appointment and going to see Tristan tonight, but she’d been so cold after deciding to walk home from her dad’s. His penthouse was only a few blocks away, but she’d craved the chill in the air to calm the anxieties on her mind.
She finally did as Dr. Sion had asked and talked to her dad. Ellie could see his heart breaking behind the façade of confidence in his eyes. She’d tried to give him the impression that she was still looking forward and would keep moving forward, continuing her research on international destinations and opportunities that she might enjoy and he, in turn, talked down her worries almost as well as the doctor had – “I’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about, Ellie. Dr. Sion knows what she is talk
ing about. Do you want me to come with you on Saturday?” She’d played along, assuring him that she agreed, and played it off, telling him that she just wanted to keep him in the loop.
They both knew their bravado was just for show, but that’s how they were – two peas of a pod. Maybe she’d inherited it, maybe she’d just learned it from watching her father most of her life, but they both were prone to putting on a brave face, even when there was nothing left behind the veneer. It wasn’t that they weren’t close, in fact, most days she would probably consider her father one of her best friends, not that she had many anymore. She could talk to him about anything, but because he was her dad, some things she didn’t want to – like this, when she knew how much it was hurting him, and how much more painful it would be to see her devastated.
And like Tristan…because telling someone about him might burst the bubble that he’d been building around her.
So, after a few minutes of them reassuring each other that everything was fine and that everything would be fine, they moved onto a different subject – Ellie’s international plans. Surprisingly, her father had reacted with excitement, to see her pursuing something that was so important to her.
No, not really surprising, she’d just thought he’d be more sad and worried than excited.
“You know, Ellie,” he said, thoughtfully, “I have a client, DeLuce Corporation, whose business operates out of Ireland, I’m sure you can imagine why – taxes and all. They have a bunch of difference branches, but one of the service that they offer is business management and consulting. I can put a word in with Chip and see if he’s looking for anyone over there.”
Ellie’s eyes had widened at the suggestion. Her first instinct was to refuse, determined to do all of this on her own, but after thinking about it for a moment, she admitted that doing things all on her own might be jumping off the deep-end a little too soon; she was already determined to uproot her life and move to another country – a little help couldn’t hurt.
The Artist's Touch (The Gentlemen's Guild Book 1) Page 24
