Protect & Serve(86)

The cab pulled up into the alleyway, just enough to keep his back end from staying out in the street. Smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe, giving the alley a more polluted atmosphere. Gwen held up her hands in defeat as she took a step away from me until she reached the cab door and opened it.

“There’s no room in this cab for you, Tristan,” she said. “You’ll have to call another.”

“Gwen, wait!” I called, but she just shook her head.

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Tristan,” she said. “I just can’t do it.”

I watched her step into the cab, her gaze cast off into the street as the taxi pulled out into the back street, then sped off into the night. I stood there in that ally trying to process everything that had happened. It felt like no matter what, my life would always lead me back to Gwendolyn. It wasn’t like me to believe in the vague idea of the supernatural, I would have sworn that the two of us were fated to be together—whether we liked it or not… if only I could make her understand.





13





Chapter 13





The next day, I barricaded myself in my office and refused to speak with any of my clients. I was an utter wreck after that fiasco of a dinner the night before. That kiss had brought my heart right into my throat and my cheeks to a deep burning red hue. All the thoughts I had tried to repress of the night we’d spent together all came flooding back to me in that moment. It was too much for me to handle at once. I had to get out of there. I had to escape.

My world felt like it was all crumbling in on itself, the very foundation on which I’d built my life felt like it was crumbling and all because of that stupid boy I’d wanted all those years ago. I wanted to curse his name and kiss him all at the same time. Damn him.

I was more than thankful I had a woman like Tina in my corner—I could never trust anyone else with the running of the business when I just couldn’t handle the stress of the world around me. It was because of her I could make it through the mess of sorting out the love lives of countless of people, she knew everything there was to know about this business, and if I ever thought of handing the reins over to anyone it would be her. She was an absolute wonder.

Except when it came to my mother.

“Marm,” she said, poking her head into my office around the noon hour, “your mother’s on the first line for you. She told me not to put her on hold forever like I tried to do last time. I think she’s getting wise to us.”

“So she is, Tina,” I sighed, trying to muster up a smile to reassure her that all was well. “I’ll take the call in just a second.”

Once the door was closed and I was bathed once again in the relative dark of my office I pressed the blinking button on my desk phone and put my mother on speaker phone.

“Good afternoon, Mother. What can I do for you?”

“Gwendolyn! Dearest, how are you?” my mother asked, her voice too chipper to be anything but suspicious. “I’ve missed the sound of your voice.”

She wanted something. I could tell just from the break in her voice as she tried to give some indication that she gave a damn about anything, especially how I was doing.

“Is there something I can do for you?” I asked again, my tone much more forceful this time.

“What in the world makes you think I want anything, dear?” she asked, doing her best to sound offended. “I just wanted to know how you were doing, and perhaps why you happened to be emblazoned across the gossip section of this tabloid across my table?”

I frowned, a pit forming in the bottom of my stomach. What had they seen? Were there pictures of Tristan and I in bed together? My heart started to race at the possibilities of how all of this could go wrong. By the time this whole ordeal with my stepbrother was over, I’d need to be on at least two different anxiety medications.

“I’m sure I haven’t a clue what you mean, Mother,” I said, trying to sound as innocent as I could.

“Well, right here it says ‘Matchmaker Stepsister Making a Match for Playboy Stepbrother,’ ” she read aloud, still trying to feign confusion. “Is that true, dear? Are you trying to set up our Tristan with a woman?”

“He came to me to find himself a more stable relationship, yes,” I admitted, though I didn’t like the way my mother was prying. She never took an interest in who I did business with, let alone what Tristan got up to in his spare time. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I was just wondering how wise that would be,” she said. “Tristan isn’t really a man for stability, now, is he? I wouldn’t have thought you would have taken on such a hopeless cause.”