The Arrangement: Collection D (Vol 10-12)

by Ward, H. M.

  I finally get a look at his face and freeze. Holy shit, is that Trystan Scott? The guy is a legend. He’s the biggest rock star around, and the guy is standing in front of me. My eyes widen and I manage to blink once. It can’t be him. No way. This has to be a double, or some sort of impersonator, for the club.

  A dorky smile crosses my mouth and I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sean Ferro told me to come out here—”

  The guy’s smile vanishes and he looks me over again. “You know Sean?” I nod. “And you willingly came here to see him?” He glances past me like there might be a militia hidden in the parking lot, holding me here at gunpoint.

  I nearly laugh. He knows Sean—that much is certain—because he doesn’t like him at all. I poke the guy in the chest and get in his face. Today’s been too long to deal with this twerp. “Listen, Trystan impersonator, I don’t have to tell you a damn thing. Now let me inside before I get mugged and Sean kills you and buries you out back.”

  The smirk returns, but brighter this time. He’s trying not to laugh. “Uh, yeah, first things first—I’m not afraid of Sean Ferro, and second—I am Trystan Scott.” He glances down at my finger, which is still pressed into his chest, like I intend on kicking his ass myself, before looking back up into my face.

  A stupid expression is frozen on my lips and suddenly I can’t speak. My eyes slowly widen as I recognize the dimples, the scar, and the distinct traits of the rock star. His father beat the shit out of him when he was younger and the proof is forever on his skin. I’m caught between looking like an asshole and a crazy woman. Fuck. I need to pick one and just go with it. I drop my finger and place my hands on my hips and tilt my head at him. “Why would Sean send me to you, if you hate him?”

  Trystan shrugs—I can’t believe it’s really him. This is totally weird. “No idea. He does a lot of illogical shit that only makes sense in his twisted mind.” He lets his eyes rove over me once and spots the ring on my finger. His jaw drops as he points toward my hand. “No fucking way. Is that from Ferro?”

  Now I feel naked. The way this guy looks at me, with such utter amazement, is unsettling. I cover my engagement ring with my hand. “Yes.”

  Something shifts and the amused smile returns. “Now you have to come in.” I glance up at him and wonder what made him drop his guard, but he clearly has. Instead of being suspicious of me, he seems to like me. The change happened in a snap.

  “I don’t get it.” Looking into those icy blue eyes, I can see that Trystan knows what I’m asking.

  “Anyone that is capable of taming Sean Ferro is a force to behold. You’ve captured my attention, Future Mrs. Ferro, which is difficult to do.” Trystan pushes the door open, extending his arm, and ushers me inside.

  31

  The interior is as dreary as the outside. Trystan has an amazed look on his face and occasionally glances at me out of the corner of his eye. I spot someone—a woman with long hair—sitting at a table alone in front of the stage. Her back is curved and she’s leaning heavily on her elbows.

  Trystan walks directly toward her. “Hey, Sidney, look who I found on the front porch—the future Mrs. Sean Ferro.” He grins at me and throws himself into a seat across from the woman.

  It’s not until she turns around that I recognize her. Some of the anguish in my chest dissipates and I rush at her with a huge smile. “Oh my God! It’s you!”

  Sidney laughs and hugs me back. “Avery, it’s so good to see you!”

  “Aw, a reunion. If I’d known, I would have brought dip.” Trystan leans back in his chair and kicks his feet up onto the table. He’s wearing an old pair of black Chucks. Blue argyle socks peek out from beneath his dark jeans. The hem is shredded in places, along with one of the knees. That silver ring around his neck is out of sight, but the chain is still visible.

  Sidney snaps at him as she releases me. “Shut up, Trystan. Anyone that’s had to put up with Sean—”

  He drops his feet to the ground, leans forward and grabs my hand, thrusting it toward Sidney so she can see my ring. “No, not put up, tamed—this chick tamed the jackass known as Sean Ferro.”

  Sidney’s jaw drops and she takes my hand from Trystan and then looks up into my face. “Oh my God! He asked you to marry him?”

  I can’t help it. For a moment, I forget about all the horrible things that have happened and smile at her. “Yes, he did.”

  “When?”

  “Tonight.”

  Sidney squeals and jumps up and down. Since she’s holding my hand, I jump with her. Trystan has his arms folded over his chest and watches us. There’s no one else around, but I hear voices. I glance about and ask her, “Why are you here?”

  “Because Peter’s here. His brother bought this place and shouldn’t have—at least that’s what Pete said—so Sean did something to make it like it never happened. Jonathan just has to sign some papers, but he doesn’t want to.”

  We step apart and I look over at Trystan, not understanding why he’s here. He leans his chair back on two legs and raises a finger, “Best friend of the accused. And for the record, I think Jon should do whatever the fuck he wants. God knows Sean does.”

  “So, you know Sean?” I ask. From the way Trystan speaks, it sounds like they’ve met more than once.

  He glances up at me from under those dark eyebrows and nods. “Yup. He hates my guts.” My lips part to say that can’t possibly be true, but Trystan smiles and shakes his head, making his long, dark hair fall in his eyes.

  He pushes it back and lets the legs of his chair slam down. “It’s okay, the feeling is mutual. You don’t have to apologize for him. It’s just the way things are, besides, you impressed the hell out of me. Anyone that can domesticate Sean Ferro deserves a statue and a holiday named after them.” Trystan jumps up and crosses the room to the bar, grabbing shot glasses, and a bottle of amber liquid. He walks it over to our table and sets it down. “Let’s celebrate.”

  Sidney looks back at the closed door at the back of the room. “But, they could be done at any moment.”

  Trystan shakes his head. “Nah, they’re going to be in there for a while. Cassie’s back there, and there’s no way in hell that Jon is going to sign the papers. I’ll be shocked if he caves in, especially in front of her. It’s going to be a long night. Drink up.” Trystan pours three shots and slides glasses towards Sidney and me.

  “To the impossible.” He holds up his drink, waiting for us to clink his glass.

  Fuck it. God knows I could use a drink. My nerves are frayed beyond belief and if I think too much, I’m going to turn into a weeping mess. I pluck the glass from the table and look over at Sidney, knowing that she doesn’t drink very much. “Knock it back fast.”

  Sidney sucks in way too much air, and lifts the glass. She’s nervous. The three of us tap our shot glasses together and throw back the liquor. Trystan acts like it’s water and gulps it, expressionless. My nose scrunches up as the liquor burns its way down my throat, and poor Sidney doesn’t slam it back fast enough. The alcohol must have grabbed her tonsils, because she makes the most god-awful face and chokes, but somehow the little cup is empty. She hacks up a lung as I pat her back.

  When Sidney looks up at me, she’s laughing. “Yeah, I tried to sip it.” The way she acts brings back memories of the first time I met her. There’s something about Peter’s fiancée that is so sweet and innocent. I envy her in that moment and assume she’s had an easy life, but the thought stumbles. There’s been something dark there, too—a reason why Peter asked Sean for help, and it had something to do with Sidney.

  Trystan pushes his hair out of his face and pours another round. “You guys are going to be sisters-in-law, which makes me your new best-friend-in-law.” He glances at me and pushes my drink my way, as his lips take on the amused smirk that he wore at the door. “So, tell me, how’d you get Sean Ferro wrapped around your little finger?” That’s when things start to get interesting.

  32

  I don’t plan on telli
ng Trystan my occupation, but nothing goes as planned tonight. We sit around the table and talk about everything and anything. It’s strange, I barely know these people, but it doesn’t feel that way. I slump back into my chair and stare at the stage with another drink in my hand. “Why would Sean’s little brother buy this place?”

  Trystan is leaning back on his chair, with his feet on the table again, staring at the bottom of an empty glass. The corner of his mouth tugs up on one side, reminding me of a kid with a kaleidoscope. “Why does any guy do something stupid?”

  “For a woman.” Sidney dips her finger into her drink and lets the drop fall on her tongue before making a face.

  Trystan nods at her. “Damn right, but I worry about him. This is the girl that tore Jon to shreds and he’s risking everything for her. She seems sincere enough, but he thought she was the real deal last time too. It’s difficult to tell who’s a friend these days.” His voice sounds hollow, like he’s completely alone.

  I can’t help it, I stare at him. The lost look in his eyes evaporates and he flashes a smile my way. “Oh, come on, Avery. You aren’t that naïve. You have to know that people have ulterior motives. Not everyone is good and kind. If you thought that about Sean, you’d be in a ditch somewhere.”

  “Hey, he’s not like that,” I bite back before giving my words any thought. “Besides, being jaded is just as bad as being naïve. They’re opposite sides of the same coin. They both mess with your perception of reality and you lose something, some part of yourself that’s necessary.” Well, damn. Listen to me being all philosophical when I’m half drunk. Who knew? I didn’t even slur any words.

  An odd expression crosses his face and he puts the glass down. Trystan’s chair remains tipped back and he tilts his head to the side like he has underestimated me. His lips part like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, those dark lashes lower and he looks to the side.

  I know that expression. I’ve conjured a ghost, I’m reminding him of someone, of something that somebody who’s no longer here has told him. Trystan lets his chair slam down onto all four legs and leans in. He’s close enough to me that Sean will rip his head off if he walks in now, especially because of the hostility between these two men. “It’s not necessary, and the coin can’t stay on its side forever. At some point it falls, and I’d rather be cynical than naïve any day of the week.”

  I laugh in his face. “You think I’m naïve? Are you mental? I’m a goddamn call girl, my parents are dead, and I’m engaged to Sean Ferro. There are no butterflies and unicorns in my hair, no ever-present smile on my face, so what makes you think you have the faintest idea of who I am and what I’m capable of?”

  Our eyes are locked, and I refuse to break the stare first. He doesn’t know me, and that arrogance—the way he assumes I’m some spoiled brat that doesn’t know shit—is just wrong. “I’m not some rich brat from Long Island. You might think you know me, but you don’t. You don’t have the slightest clue what I’ve lived through, but I know what you’ve been through. I know that look on your face, I know we’ve been in the same depths of Hell. The difference between us is that I refuse to give up and you already have.” For some unknown reason I purse my lips and blow a puff of air in his face.

  Trystan flinches and backs up. His mouth is pressed into a firm line and I know he wants to tell me off, but something holds him back. The guy says nothing. Instead, he gets up and moves to another chair and throws himself into it so one leg is hanging off the side without giving me a second glance.

  Damn, maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but any guy whose constructed walls that thick has something going on. Behind all those suave smiles is a broken man. It’s impossible to miss because we’re the same, him and me. No wonder he doesn’t get along with Sean. It must be like looking in the mirror.

  Sidney watches the exchange in uncomfortable silence. When Trystan walks away, and his back is to me, I go to stand—to say something else—apologize maybe—but Sidney touches my arm and stops me.

  When I glance over at her, she shakes her head, and then changes the topic of conversation. “So, have you ever stripped?”

  33

  I glance at her out of the corner of my eye and smirk. “Yeah, it kind of goes with the occupation. Have you?” I feel Trystan look up at me, but he doesn’t say anything. Sidney blushes furiously and tries to hide her face. I laugh and bump her shoulder lightly. “I have an idea, come on.” I stand and grab her wrist.

  Sidney squeals as I pull her to the back, “What are we doing?”

  “Looking for the dressing rooms.”

  “They’re back there,” she points down a hallway, and I pull her along with me. “Avery, what are we doing?”

  “We’re going to strip. What else?” Okay, I might be a little more than tipsy because that came out totally wrong.

  Sidney jerks her wrist away. “I’m not stripping in front of Trystan!”

  “That’s not what I meant!” For some reason I start laughing because it seems really funny. I can picture myself on the stage and Sean walking in. I think he’d kill everyone. When I manage to get control of myself again, I put my hand on her shoulder. “No, let’s just grab some of their stuff and dance on the stage. It’ll be fun, and I think we both need some fun.”

  We find a dressing room and put on men’s shirts and denim short shorts. I grab a top hat and Sidney grabs a feather boa. We head to the stage from behind the curtain and Sidney is laughing way too much. Her face is still bright crimson and she’s muttering the same words over and over again. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  When we step out onto the stage, I raise my voice. “Hey, Trystan, hit the lights.” I hear him grumble, but the guy moves. A few seconds later some of the stage lights pop up so it’s not pitch black, and then a spot light appears. It’s so bright that I have to shield my eyes if I want to look for Trystan out there. “Thanks.” No one answers. Great, now he hates me, too.

  “He’ll come around,” Sidney says, reading my thoughts.

  I turn and look at her, offering a half smile. I glance at our outfits. The large men’s shirts cover the short shorts. I unbutton the bottom of my shirt and tie it under my boobs and tell Sidney to do the same. I expect her to protest, but she doesn’t. Music kicks on from somewhere and I smile. Sidney and I dance together for a little bit. She’s laughing and blushing like crazy. I tell her to slow down her moves and suddenly she’s dancing like a goddess. It’s awesome. The girl has no clue how sexy she is. Add the huge smile on her face and that long hair and no wonder Peter is crazy about her.

  I stand there for a second, watching her dip her head back and sway her hips. She giggles and looks over at me. “I suck at this.”

  “No, you don’t. You’re actually really good.” I laugh with her and say, “Watch this.” I head over to the pole and basically do the same dance. I feel the music pulse through me and don’t care who’s watching me.

  Glancing over at Sidney, I see her swish her hair in a circle and copy the movement with her hips. She laughs and looks over at me just in time to see me grab the pole, and kick my legs up. I wrap my thighs around the cold metal and lock my ankles together, before releasing my hands, and hanging upside down. As I slowly slip down the pole I reach for the floor, and when my palms find a firm footing, I kick off the pole and land on my feet. I put my hands over my head like a gymnast and smile.

  That’s when I hear Mel’s voice. “I leave you alone for a couple of hours and you start stripping?” I hear her heels hitting the hard floor as she walks toward us. “What the fuck is going on here?”

  “Mel?” I shield my eyes and walk to the edge of the stage. Sidney stops dancing and Trystan stands up, ready to throw her out. I hop off and plow into her. Wrapping my arms around her, I say, “I’m so glad you’re all right. I thought you—” My jaw tightens and I can’t say the words. I can’t tell her that I thought I lost her.

  “Who is this?” Trystan demands. He folds his arms over hi
s chest and looks back at the door where the others are still talking, and occasionally yelling.

  Mel escapes my death hug and rounds on him, ready to tell him off. “Don’t you go talking to me like I’m some…” Her jaw drops when she sees Trystan. Mel’s caramel eyes widen and don’t blink.

  I poke her shoulder. “Mel, this is Trystan. He hates Sean.”

  “So do I,” she mutters.

  I say, “Yeah, well, then you guys have something in common.”

  Trystan smirks, and then clarifies. “Why is she here?”

  “Because I told her to come.”

  Trystan sighs and looks up at the ceiling before running his hands over his head. “Great. Jon’s going to kill me. No one is supposed to be out here but me and Sidney, and I told his bouncer to go home. I assume Sean’s coming?” Trystan turns his gaze to me and I nod. “Great.” He turns and walks away, flopping back down onto the chair.

  Mel is gaping and pointing. “That’s Trystan Scott.”

  “I know. Are you all right? What happened?”

  She doesn’t look at me. “That’s Trystan Scott. Like, the Trystan Scott. Here.”

  Oh my God. How cute. Mel is star stuck. She stands there like a twelve-year-old, practically giddy. I look her over and don’t see any gaping wounds. There’s no blood, and her brain has obviously left her body. “Listen, tonight kind of sucked. Grab a drink and join us on stage when you get over your whole boy band crush.”

  “I’m not a boy band.” Trystan glares at me with his mouth scrunched to the side.

  I smirk. “Of course not.”

  Trystan’s lips twitch as he tries not to smile, or curse me out—it’s getting hard to tell which one. I walk over to our table and pour another shot for each of us, before walking it over to him. His long legs are sprawled over the arm of the chair like a surly teenager. I hold out the glass.