Grounded (Up in the Air #3)(62)

Frankie cursed, pointing at him. I could tell just from the last two minutes that these two had a tough love kind of relationship, but a close one. "I'm calling your therapist just because you said that. You're supposed to be past that by now, and the fact that you aren't says you need to start seeing her more."

Tristan ignored her, turning to address me. He had that kind of intense regard that it was difficult not to return. He reminded me of a certain billionaire I knew …

He waved a hand between James and me. It was a strangely elegant gesture for such a huge man. "I used to have what you guys have. I found a sub once that suited me so perfectly … "

I felt a little shocked at his words, referring to our lifestyle so casually and including himself in that life with a few words. I remembered that James had described Frankie as a Domme as well. I wondered if they had their own club …  Did they meet up once a week for coffee? The whole thing seemed surreal.

"All of this other shit I do is just a cheap imitation of that," he continued. "She was so exquisite." 

"What happened?" I asked him.

He bit his lush bottom lip. I thought that everything the man did came off sinful. "What else?" he asked bitterly. "I fucked it up. I pushed her so hard that I drove her away. If I'm honest, I pushed her away on purpose. Things were getting too intimate, and I couldn't have that. I was the same as every other addict. Being self-destructive used to be a way of life for me."

He looked at James. "How's Danika? She been doing alright?"

James sighed, and I studied him as he answered. "She's good, as far as I can tell. She's great at her job. I'm actually putting her in charge of all of my galleries, not just the west coast ones. Beth in New York will have a fit being under her, but I've decided that I need to work less and live more, so my best managers are being promoted in a hurry. You should call her, Tristan. I know you worry about her, so just call her, see for yourself how she's doing."

Tristan let out a frustrated breath. "You think I haven't tried calling her? I keep tabs on her. That's it. I need to know she's okay, but the woman will have nothing to do with me."

"Have you tried calling her lately?"

"You know Danika. She won't change her mind."

"If you contacted her with something other than a casual fuck on your mind, and used that annoying persistence of yours, I wouldn't be surprised if she gave you another shot," James said, his tone idle.

Tristan's eyes sharpened on him with that laser focus that reminded me so much of James. "Why do you think that? Has she said something to you?"

James shrugged and grimaced, the arm around my shoulder jostling me with the movement. "She's just … I don't know, missing something. She's too reserved, too controlled, too damned disinterested about every part of her life except for work. And she works too much. I know from personal experience that if you make good money and still get the urge to spend the majority of your life working, it's because something important is missing there."

Tristan looked very raw as he studied the other man, his golden eyes holding a familiar sort of tarnish that spoke of pain, but that I found beautiful. "Is she seeing anyone?" he asked finally, the words sounding like they'd been torn out of him against his will.

James sighed. "I'm not sure. She was a few months back. I'm not sure how serious it was, or if he's still around. She doesn't go out of her way to mention her personal life, and I'm not asking. I just saw him stop by the gallery when I was visiting on business."

"They're meeting with her tomorrow. Bianca is having a gallery showing in L.A.," Frankie spoke up suddenly. "They haven't set a date for it yet, but I know I'll be attending. You should come as my date, Tristan."

He gave her a wry smile. "Your little Latin fireball of a sub would scratch my eyes out for that."

"So we'll make it a threesome. She won't mind that. She might like it a little bit too much, in fact."

Frankie addressed me, pointing at Tristan. "He's my straight detector. If I'm lucky enough to turn one gay, he flips her straight again. Bastard."

That surprised a loud laugh out of me.

Tristan shrugged and flashed a dimple at her. "Just here to help."





CHAPTER TWENTY

Mr. Playful





We lingered over dinner with the strange pair. Tristan ordered food even though we'd all already finished eating. He made himself right at home without asking, joking and talking to Frankie and me. I liked him. A lot. I liked them both. They were fun.