I hung up the phone and inhaled a deep breath. I got this. Getting up, I walked as quietly as possible across the attic, but I stopped as I passed the trunk with the picture of Tristan and his family. It was silly, but something in me wanted to look at him as a child again. Crouching down, I opened the trunk while I kept my eye on the stairs, just in case Rogers had heard something.
I took out the family portrait and studied the childhood face of the man I loved. He looked so innocent. I wanted to see more—wanted to see what he was truly like as a child— so I sifted through the papers and books to a pile of smaller pictures I hadn't noticed the last time. Together, they catalogued Tristan and his brother's youth and as the pictures clearly showed, the vast differences between the two boys.
Identical in appearance, they were like night and day. All smiles, Tristan seemed to always be so full of life, while his brother stood sullen in the few pictures of him. Tristan was obviously the more athletic, appearing in picture after picture holding trophies, each one bigger than the one before. In the background of one picture his brother stood watching from behind the bleachers as Tristan once again received laurels. Taylor wore the expression I'd seen often in the past weeks on Tristan, a face that told whoever bothered to pay attention that the one wearing it felt the most acute sense of unhappiness. Some pictures showed his mother's pride in her winning son, but none included Tristan's father, except the formal portrait I'd studied earlier. As the boys aged, fewer showed Taylor at all.
I searched the bottom of the trunk to find more images of his brother, but there were none. All I found were papers that appeared to be lists of names and legal documents. Suddenly, a feeling of guilt came over me. It wasn't right that I was snooping up in that attic, even if it was for a silly romantic reason.
Carefully replacing everything as I'd found it, I closed the trunk and quietly made my way back downstairs, tiptoeing each step to avoid being caught by Rogers. It was nearly five o'clock and my time for indecision was over. I grabbed my laptop and headed for Tristan's office, prepared to show off my work on the Miami suite and praying to God I was ready to answer his question.
I sat in his leather office chair behind his desk and closed my eyes to calm my nerves, repeating my newest affirmation. I got this. I got this. A few minutes later, the sound of his footsteps coming down the wood floor hallway told me my time was up.
"You look good behind my desk, Nina," he said in a silky voice that slid over me, enveloping me.
Opening my eyes, I saw him casually leaning up against the doorframe as he loosened his tie, the picture of calm. As usual, he looked incredible. The dark charcoal suit he wore was complimented perfectly by his black dress shirt and red and black striped silk tie.
"You don't look too bad yourself, boss," I tried to say just as casually in an attempt to keep the conversation light.
But he wasn't having any of it.
He walked toward me as he unbuttoned his shirt's top button. "It's five o'clock. I'm looking forward to seeing your choices for Miami and then you answering my question."
"I'm pretty hungry. How about we head over to Tony's for pizza and then get to the work?"
Tristan rounded the corner of his desk and stood next to me wearing a sly grin. "I'm happy to leave the work until tomorrow. You know I don't like doing anything after five."
I stood to leave, but he caught me around the waist and pulled me to him. He looked down at me with a look in his dark eyes so intense I shuddered. There would be no putting him off.
"But the answer needs to happen before we eat."
"Okay." I sat back down in his chair and opened up my laptop. "Might as well get Miami out of the way, right?"
I was stalling for time and he knew it. "As you wish."
Steadying my shaky hands, I presented my choices for the Miami suite, which Tristan easily approved and congratulated me on. I doubted he had even paid much attention to my ideas this time, but there was no point in belaboring the issue.
He closed my laptop and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm glad that's finished."
Unsure what to say, I stared at the desk and meekly smiled. "Me too."
Tristan caressed my cheek with his thumb and then cupped my chin, turning my face to look up at him. "So I believe the question stands, Nina. What do you want from me after your contract is over?"