A Fractured Echo

Chapter 16

My eyes darted sideways, then upwards, a gasp escaping from my lips at the grand expanse of the building behind, and just like that, the nerves about tonight returned at full throttle. I thought he'd finally understood my feelings, realised that this sort of thing wasn't me, would never be me, no matter how much someone tried to force it upon me. In that moment, an alarming clarity filled me as I grasped this came from a place far more deep-seated than a general trepidation towards dating. I wasn't 'gun shy' as first suspected. This was entrenched discomfort, born from experience that had taken root a long time ago.

Wrestling with panic that glued me firmly to the spot, I stared blankly at the hotel employee who'd assisted me, unsure how to respond, or even whether walking up the handful of steps and through the heavy wooden doors was going to happen. Despite the chilly air, I flushed at the thought of what awaited me, my palms growing clammy around the bags I clutched tightly. My mouth resembled the Sahara, the words slithering away, hiding behind a tongue that had turned to stone. Flight was firmly at the forefront of my thoughts as the panic started to build, only there was no time to beat a hasty retreat and claim I was taken ill. Not that I'd ever be able to lie convincingly, Jodie always said I had one of the most honest faces she'd ever met. My eyes always gave me away quicker than sugar dissolving in a hot cup of tea.

"Miss? Is everything alright?" he enquired softly.

I gave a non-committal 'Mmmm', as another car pulled up to the kerb which required his attention.

There was nothing for it, I knew I would have to endure whatever was waiting for me inside the hotel. Shame instantly trickled through me for considering what Tristan had planned as something to endure. It wasn't his fault that he had arranged something over the top, yet a tiny voice echoed inside my head that it was his fault that he'd ignored my feelings on such extravagance.

Making my way to the entrance, my shoes felt heavier with every step, yet I still couldn't bring myself to stand Tristan up. The door swung open from the inside, permitting access to the grand lobby. Swallowing back what was left of my reticence, I strode forward with a little more purpose, eyes scanning the reception hoping to spot my date...something that was much easier to do than galvanising myself to enter the building in the first place.

Standing off to one side was Tristan, his tall form cloaked in sharp black suit offset by a pale blue crisply ironed shirt, a complimenting narrow designer tie, and shoes so shiny I was sure I'd be able to retouch my lipstick using the reflection. None of this did anything to detract from the huge bunch of blood red roses he gripped tightly in both hands. Advancing towards me, he grinned broadly with what looked like a hint of smugness as he greeted me, proffering the flowers; "Good evening gorgeous, these are for you."

Two bouquets in one day seemed ludicrously excessive, but Tristan was clearly impressed with himself and his efforts, so I did the only thing I could, and accepted them graciously, "They're beautiful. You're really spoiling me today." I murmured, dipping my nose to the full blooms to inhale their perfume.

"Excellent. Only the best when you're with me." He rubbed his hands together gleefully. "And don't give me any of this 'hating a fuss' nonsense, I want to spoil my girlfriend?"

That one sentence should have been enough to make me turn on my heel and get the hell out of dodge, but like a fool who hates disappointing people, I simply smiled, "I'm definitely hungry."

"Let's go eat then." His eyes twinkled, clearly impressed with himself at what he'd arranged. As I wrestled with the ridiculously sized bouquet, Tristan wrapped his arm around my shoulder, guiding me through the opulent marble halls, and up an equally ornate Art Deco staircase towards our destination.