Chapter Thirty-Three
Tristan
The incessant knocking at my door betrayed who was behind it. Emma had never been very patient. Rolling my eyes, I went and answered it.
“Took you long enough,” she said, breezing in without an invitation.
“Hello to you, too.”
“You haven’t spent any time with me since I arrived,” she said accusingly as she spread herself over my sofa and made herself comfortable.
“You’ve been here barely two days,” I pointed out. “And I greeted you when you arrived, didn’t I?”
“What am I?” she asked. “Just another random guest at your fancy ass resort?”
“Uh no…a random guest would be paying for room and board,” I said, sitting down on the chair next to her.
Emma gave me a wink. “Aw, come on,” she said. “Those are just the perks of having a powerful big brother.”
“How’s Mom?” I asked dryly.
“Mom’s fine,” Emma shrugged. “You know.”
“I don’t know actually,” I admitted. “I haven’t spoken to her in months.”
“Really?”
“Not since her birthday.”
“Wow,” she said. “No wonder she complains about you so often.”
“She complains?”
“Of course,” Emma nodded. “She’s always talking about her successful son… I mean, she’s proud and all that, but she’s kind of bitter, too. But don’t worry, she doesn’t blame you.”
“Who does she blame then?” I asked.
“Your father,” Emma smiled. “Obviously.”
I rolled my eyes. At the time, Mom and dad’s divorce had been contentious. Of course, I had been young enough that I didn’t remember any of that. The summer after their divorce I had been enrolled in an exclusive boarding school in England and had left the troubles of my parents’ marriage behind me. After that, I had swapped off summers and holidays between them.
I had been six when Mom had remarried, a full six months after the divorce had been finalized, and I had been seven when she had given birth to Emma. I still remembered the pug-faced infant that Mom had shoved in my face like some kind of prize. I had just arrived from boarding school with plenty of stories to tell, and a pink-faced baby with the most annoying voice I had ever heard had upstaged me.
I looked at Emma in mild amusement and thought how lucky it was that she had grown out of her pug face, her excessively pink cheeks, and her freckles. She had turned from an ugly child to a gangly teenager to a woman that many men would consider beautiful. The only thing she had kept from her youth was the shrill and annoying voice. Emma had been nothing more than an irritation to me growing up, but adulthood had created an unlikely friendship between us that had evaded our younger years.
“Of course,” I nodded dryly. “Whatever she can blame on my father, she will.”
“To be fair, she blames my father for just as many things,” Emma said, with a shrug.
“Oh?” I said, with some interest. I had never particularly warmed to my stepfather, who was as overwhelmingly boring as he was arrogant. “Like what?”
“Like my rebellious nature,” Emma said, with a satisfied smile. “She claims I inherited my sharp tongue, my brash manner, and my willfulness from him.”
“Huh, I wasn’t aware he had that much character,” I said slyly.
Emma shot me a sharp look that was laced with amusement. We had developed a shorthand over the last few years that some would describe as dark humor. Despite my best efforts today, however, I was having a hard time concentrating on the conversation. It was taking a lot of energy and concentration to attempt to appear calm and unfazed.
“As much as I would like to defend my father, I’m forced to agree with you,” she shrugged. “Although what he lacks in personality he makes up for in mystery.”
“Meaning?”
“He has secrets,” she replied. “Kind of like you.”
“Excuse me?” I said, taking the bait.
“I hear you have a girlfriend,” she said, and her tone shifted slightly. “Or at least, I hear you had a girlfriend.”
“That’s none of your business,” I said immediately.
She smiled, and I knew instantly that she wasn’t just going to let this topic go. “Nothing is ever really my business,” she said. “I make it my business.”
“Yes, I remember,” I nodded. “That’s why I avoided you when we were kids.”
Emma sat up and crossed her legs. Then she fixed her dark hazel eyes on me. “You and Molly, huh?” she said. “At long last.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve always held a candle for Molly. Don’t even bother denying it.”
“What makes you think I did?” I demanded.
“I may be seven years younger than you, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid, Tristan,” Emma said harshly. “Or blind, for that matter. I just noticed things.”
“You’ve seen Molly and I interact all of what…two times?”
“It was enough,” she said, with a shrug. “Remember that big party that your father hosted to open one of his many hotels?”
“Yes.”
“You invited me to that.”
“I didn’t invite you,” I reminded her. “You begged me to include you.”
“Whatever, same difference,” she said dismissively. “The point is I was there, and so was Molly and her family. I watched the two of you the whole night. At first it was only obvious to me that Molly was infatuated with you, but as the night progressed, I realized you had feelings for her, too.”
“Based on what?”
“The way you looked at her,” Emma replied. “The way your eyes lingered on her when she spoke. The way you made excuses to touch her throughout the dinner. The fact that you barely noticed the cocktail waitress who was flirting with you.”
“I noticed her,” I said defensively. “I slept with her later that night.”
“And did you think of Molly the whole time?”
“I knew letting you have a suite here would come back to bite me in the ass,” I groaned.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Do you deny it?”
I sighed heavily. “No.”
She smiled smugly at me. “I thought so…. Now, what happened?”
“Nothing,” I said, trying to brush it off. “She was here for a few months, we got involved, and now we’re not involved anymore.”
“Why?” she pressed.
When Emma got like this, she was like a dog with a bone. She wouldn’t let go until she had dug deep. “This thing with Molly was…it was just a fling.”
“Bull.”
I raised my eyebrows. “It’s true.”
“Please, you think that’ll work on me,” Emma asked. “I know you, Tristan, better than you think. You’re lying to me.”
I groaned. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“I’d like some answers,” she shot back. “And while you’re supplying them, you can grab me a drink, sure.”
“Why do you care?” I demanded. “You barely knew Molly.”
“No, but I liked her,” she replied. “And I happened to think, even back then, that she was a perfect match for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you want to go swim or something?”
“The whole resort is buzzing by the way.”
“People like to gossip.”
“Especially about their hot young boss,” Emma smiled sweetly. “Who apparently drove off a woman that everyone loves.”
“She chose to quit,” I said. “I never asked her to leave.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, fixing me with a curious expression.
“What?” I demanded, growing impatient.
“Would you like to tell me why she quit?”
“Obviously, it wasn’t working out between us,” I said, with a shrug. “And she couldn’t very well continue working for me after we broke up.”
“And you just let her go?”
“I told you,” I said. “She was just a temporary distraction.”
“You are an asshole,” Emma said pleasantly. “And a liar.”
“Why would I lie?” I asked calmly.
“Because you’re a coward,” she said simply. “You’re scared of how you feel about Molly, and instead of owning up to it, you’re running from your feelings.”
“Fuck,” I said, running my hand through my hair. “Who do you think you are? My shrink?”
She gave me a wide smile. “I’m starting my doctorate next year,” she said. “Psychology.”
“Fuck,” I repeated.
This time, Emma didn’t smile. Instead, she stood up and walked over to me in a manner that was so pronounced that it was decidedly intimidating. “Apparently, the rumor running around the resort is that Molly stormed into your office because she found out something.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “I’d really like to know who’s behind these salacious rumors.”
Emma rolled her eyes at me. “Is it true?” she demanded.
“She was mad about something,” I admitted at last. “Yes.”
“Which was what exactly?”
“She wanted me to give her a commitment,” I said, skirting around the real reason she had stormed into my office. “And, I wasn’t prepared to make her any promises.”
“Because you’re a coward,” Emma nodded.
“No,” I said defensively. “Because it’s what’s best for her.”
“Says who?”
“Me!”
“Oh yeah,” she scoffed. “Because you know what’s best for everyone.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, Tristan,” Emma said, matching my annoyed tone. “You’re holed up here in Hawaii working so hard that you forget to actually live your life. You realize you’re not even thirty yet, right?”
“Your point?” I demanded.
“How are you qualified to know what’s right for Molly when you don’t even know what’s right for yourself?”
“I can still kick you out of that suite you’re in,” I threatened.
“Go ahead,” she said calmly. “I’ll just pack up my stuff and move right in here with you. Of course, next time I’ll be sure to lock the bathroom door in case another one of your girlfriends walk in and gets the wrong idea.”
She knew about that, too. I groaned inwardly, both infuriated and amazed at how accurate all her information was.
“What?” Emma asked, looking me in the eye. “You’re not going to deny that that’s what Molly was upset by?”
I sighed and collapsed against the single seater. “Our relationship would have ended at some point. This gave us both an out… It’s better this way.”
“You’re a coward,” Emma snapped.
“You said that already,” I said callously. “So if you’re going to circle back around to your greatest hits, I’d suggest you take your leave and leave me to my misery.”
“So you admit you’re miserable after Molly left?”
I groaned loudly and buried my face in one of the throw pillows. “Please,” I begged. “Please just leave me alone.”
“Oh don’t worry about being alone, Tristan,” Emma said, as she moved towards the door. “You’ve got the rest of your life to be alone…especially if you keep running from all the people that love you.”
The moment she left, I felt a keen surge of relief. And on its heels came the thick choking discomfort of knowing that Emma was probably right.