Grounded (Up in the Air #3)(97)

"That's awful," I said.

He nodded. "Yes. There's a lot of bad baggage there, but what he said to you at lunch the other day was actually the most I've heard him talk about it in one sitting. Neither of them are forthcoming about it. We'll probably never know all of the ugly details."

I knew that he was probably right.

"Do you mind if I go and check to see if he's okay?" James asked.

"Not at all," I reassured him, thinking that he was the sweetest, most thoughtful man in the world. 

Danika approached me, looking more serious than she had for most of the night. Every time she had sought me out before, she had been beaming, ecstatic to give me the news of another sale.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that little exchange in the bathroom," she said, meeting my eyes steadily.

I thought I must have blushed down to my toes. "I am so sorry about that."

She waved me off. "It was hardly your fault. You were just using the restroom. But I saw your shoes under the stall, and I wanted to explain myself. I probably sounded like a cold bitch."

I stopped her, holding my hand up. "You didn't. I understand completely. Sometimes protecting your heart is the only way to keep your sanity."

She nodded, her mouth firm. "Yes, exactly. I won't get mixed up with him again, and I refuse to lead him on. When I was younger, and stupid, I thought that he was the most wonderful and exciting thing in the world. I fell crazy, stupid, jump off a cliff in love with him. It was like being in love with a tornado. And when he was done with me, I felt like I'd been in a tornado. It took me years to pick up all of the pieces he'd left me in, but I did it, and I won't go back. These days I want stability in my life. I need it."

I nodded. I could well understand that. When you'd been through hell, stability was heaven.

She seemed to see that she'd made her point. She patted me on the shoulder and walked away.

Blake had come to hover near me when James had gone to find Tristan. As on top of things as ever, she was able to direct me to him, as well.

He was outside, speaking to Frankie and Tristan in a private patio area. James had his back to the door, his hands in his pockets.

I approached the three of them tentatively, not wanting to intrude.

Tristan was sucking on a cigarette like his life depended on it, his eyes wide on Frankie as she threw her arms in the air and spoke to him in a low voice, obviously giving him a piece of her mind. He'd taken off his tuxedo jacket and loosened his tie. The crisp white sleeves of his tux were rolled up to reveal tatted up forearms. He'd played well at being clean cut for a few hours, but his bad boy had obviously broken back out.

Tristan saw me first. He exhaled. "Bianca, help me! Frankie is a little termagant. Please tell her that one cigarette is not going to kill me."

James turned to look at me, his eyes warm as they ran over me. He snagged my arm as I came into reach, pulling my back to his front and kissing the top of my head.

One of Frankie's tiny fingers poked into Tristan's massive chest. "This is not about one cigarette. This is about having one short conversation with her, and picking up a habit you quit five years ago. You need to call your sponsor right this second!"

Tristan rolled his eyes, taking another long drag of the cigarette. "You know, nagging can be a trigger."

"This isn't a joke," she fumed, sounding as much worried as mad. "I'm worried about you. You're acting strange, and the first thing you tried to do was slip away by yourself. The last thing you need to do is be alone right now."

"I'm not on suicide watch, Frankie. I'm smoking one fucking cigarette and then I'll go back in, k? If you're that worried about me, maybe you and your girl should sleep with me tonight. I shouldn't be alone in my big, huge, lonely bed."

She threw her hands in the air. "Like you have any trouble finding bodies to warm that bed."

"You said it yourself. I'm in a vulnerable place right now, and I should be surrounded by people I love. So come sleep with me, Frankie."

She smacked him hard on the arm. "When is the 'trying to get the lesbian to sleep with me' bit going to get old? I would really love to know."



       
         
       
        

He grinned, flashing deep dimples at her. He was putting on a good tough guy show, but he still looked like he was hurting. "You aren't 'the lesbian', you're my favorite lesbian. And I was only talking about cuddling. Your dirty mind did the rest."

She sighed, looking defeated. "Fine. I'll come cuddle with you tonight if it means you won't be alone. No hitting on my girlfriend, though."