Being a Chef, you learned a thing or two.
1. You work well with your hands.
2. You're not afraid to get down & dirty.
3. You're all about pleasing.
4. You can satisfy every taste bud.
5. You can go on for hours without breaks.
6. You know how to han...
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"Now that we have gone over everything, do you understand what can and can not happen once you sign this contract?" Mr. Tucker inquires. "Breach of contract could cost you everything. The same goes for Opal Inc."
I mentally shake the conversation from the meeting away. I hope Mr. Tucker will keep his word on what I asked of him. Only one way to find out. I insert the key into the door unlocking it. I'm welcome to the sight of Tristan and two guys sitting on his couch watching tv. I didn't move any further, and now I wish I had gone to the restaurant instead.
The first guy looks at me with amusement while the other guy nods with acknowledgment. Tristan is off the couch, walking quickly to me. I apologize over and over; the groceries I'm carrying catch his attention as he approaches me. He looks from the bags to me. Nothing dawns on him, which means Mr. Tucker has kept his word. I want to be the one to tell Tristan.
"I-I'm going to go." I shove the groceries bags into his chest.
"No." He grabs my wrist. "You two leave." He looks over his shoulder, and the two guys whine about not wanting to go home yet. They want to finish watching the game.
"Tristan, I'll go. Spend time with your friends." I saw this playing out differently. I struggle to break free of his grip.
"No worries, Ms. Mathis, we're leaving. I know my wife is probably ready for me to arrive anyway. Our kids can be a handful. Thank you for watching them that day. You left quite an impression on Asher."
I look over at the guy talking and see the resemblance. Wow. Creepy. It's like he spit the twin boys out himself. So the daughter must look like her mother.
"Lovely kids you have." I smile. It's a half-truth. While his younger ones are delightful, his twin daughters are actually hell, but respectable nonetheless.
The other guy doesn't say anything but nods again and walks out. Now it's just Tristan and I alone, and we stare at one another. He stares at me as if I will disappear.
"So," I break eye contact with him. "I--what would you like for dinner?" I walk into the kitchen. Tristan isnt behind me. He is still standing like a statue. "Tristan, I dont have all night." I huff, and he seems to snap out of whatever trance he is in.
"What are you doing here?" he places the bags on the counter.
"Are you not hungry?" I ask, seeing a pan covered with aluminum foil on the kitchen island. Did he eat already?
"Are you going to answer my question with a question?" He crosses his arms at his chest. "If so, dont speak."
"Are you really going to be an asshole to me?"
"I dont know. Should I be?" Oh, he is on one tonight. I wanted to deal with a man, baby. I would head back to the restaurant and deal with Henry. I dig through the bag, taking it upon myself to cook something quick. I knew what was in Tristan's kitchen, so I didn't need to buy that much. After what happened in the office this afternoon, I should have known that he would be a bit on the defense with me. Which he shouldn't be. He dragged me into a pretty fucked up situation.
