Chapter Ten
Tristan
I sat there with Peyton, the cavity in my chest sounding like two broken boards whacking together in an empty cellar, or at least feeling like that’s how it should sound, as she spilled her guts about things that had to do with marketing, and sports, and fashion, and social media, and shopping, and fathers and brothers…
We finished lunch, and I was antsy to get back to the office. I read an email Amy had sent, updating me word-for-word on her conversation with Zack. It had been especially hard to pay attention to Peyton because I was just so damned pumped, and relieved. I really thought I’d screwed that one up. Letting him sit, hanging cold, when he needed an agent. It had been nagging at me more than I’d known until Amy told me about his out-of-the-blue call.
I was also sure we could stick the proverbial fork in Parker Starr. I had him. I wasn’t going to jinx it by saying it out loud or even thinking it too specifically, but I knew he was going to sign. I also knew there was no such thing as a done deal until the ink was dry on the page. Screw ups, especially with our annual party looming, were not only totally unacceptable but more likely to happen during this month than any other time.
Like sports, agenting was about pressure, executing when it was at its highest, and that was about confidence. Peyton needed confidence. Amy needed it. I could tell by my reactions to everything around me that I needed it, too, far more than I’d been realizing lately.
Things had been going well—at least professionally speaking—and that was making me nervous. I was used to having a juicy catastrophe of my own making brewing at all times. Not having one apparent in front of my face made me feel like something was out there lurking, gathering power, ready to be one hell of a doozy.
This was all on my mind as I got back into the office and saw Amy pretending to be too busy to even look up and smile. That wasn’t quite fair. She really was that busy, and I wanted her to be settled enough into her job that she didn’t feel it was necessary to interrupt herself every time I walked by, but I also didn’t want to worry about the various insecurities of the two women in my life.
Wasn’t that a joke? One had dumped me not that many weeks before, and the other was my PA.
“How are the invitations coming?” I asked as I approached her desk.
“Printer’s ready as soon as we give them the final ‘go.’”
“What are we waiting for?”
She looked at me, one eyebrow cocked. I couldn’t help it, it made me smile.
“We’re waiting for the five changes you’re going to make at the last minute.”
I took a breath to protest, but then caught myself. My memory went back to every single party we’d thrown in the past. At least one, and usually more, rounds of invitations had ended up in the recycle bin with people in my office panicking and waking our printer up as he slept peacefully next to his wife in bed. How she knew this, I didn’t have a clue. But the woman was on top of it.
“Fair enough. And we’ve got the system locked in? No invitations to anyone who isn’t important to us. No nepotism going on. Nobody’s favorite nephew and his wannabe Victoria’s Secret model?”
She sighed.
I waited until she was about to speak so I could interrupt. She opened her mouth and I said, “—then again, if she’s actually got a shot.”
She didn’t actually say it, but mouthed the word “pig.” I saw the little peek of a smile, just barely on the corner of her lips.
“Aha! She hasn’t forgotten how! Ladies and gentlemen, Amy Nolan still remembers how to smile,” I announced to no one, but turned around as though I had a huge audience.
I guessed my timing was off, and my delivery, because her hint of a smile disappeared, and she now looked determined to frown.
“Hey! C’mon,” I said. “This is the busiest time of year, but it’s also going to be the most fun you’ve ever had. You’re going to be there.”
While she didn’t actually flinch, it at least looked to me like she stiffened.
I took a step closer to her. “Amy, you’re not thinking of missing it?”
“Well—” she hesitated.
“You can’t be serious.”
“It’s just, like you said, I’ve been working quite a bit more than I ever have. And I’ve always put in the hours, from the day I started in contracts here. I thought it might be the perfect night to just get out of the way and decompress. Besides, I’m not sure that’s my kind of crowd.”
I stared at her. I was stunned for about as many reasons as I have fingers. Then I got mad. Mad like I hadn’t been since all the shit hit the fan with Adrienne leaving, Drake getting a concussion and almost dumping me, falling head over heels for Peyton then having her rip my heart out, and landing on the fact that I hadn’t felt Amy’s lips against mine since that accidental kiss.
I managed to take two extra breaths before letting it fly. My voice started calmer than I expected, but I’m not sure that didn’t make it worse because she kind of sat back in her seat and her eyes got a little wide.
“Amy, I’m going to pretend we didn’t have this conversation. Do you want to know why? I’ll tell you. There are more things wrong with where your head seems to be than I can count on both hands, but let’s give it a shot. First, there’s your job. You’re supposed to be there. Do you have any idea the amount of things that can and will go wrong at an event like this? For the first two hours, you can bet on some crisis in the making every ten minutes. I need you there. Not to mention, it’s your job!”
I took a breath. She was sitting back in her chair, eyes wide, looking up at me and I swear I felt for a second like I’d been a bully to a little girl on the playground.
Then her face changed. She pressed her lips together and her eyes went back to normal, and I thought she was about to let me have it, or tell me to shove the job right up my ass. Instead, she surprised me, and maybe even saved me a little bit.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, Amy, it was just me going off on one of my rants. Don’t—”
“No, no it wasn’t. I heard a couple of your rants when I used to help Adie out. You didn’t even know I was in her office at the time. You used to sound practically murderous. Not at her, not really, but still, it was a little frightening. Just now, well, you were right.”
“It’s not like you were wrong,” I assured her. “You have been working your ass off for me.”
“You’ve been working just as hard, at least.”
“Yeah, and I haven’t really found a minute to get excited about it, either. In spite of my wonderfully hypocritical speech just now.”
She stood. I thought for a second she was going to come over and give me a hug, and I would have welcomed it, no doubt. Instead, she said, “I’ll make you a deal, if you start getting excited about this incredible party we’re throwing, I’ll get my head out of my ass and get excited, too.”
Something about her delivery was perfect. Either that or I needed a good laugh. Maybe we both did. Whether we needed it or not, that’s exactly what happened.
There we were, laughing like we’d just stolen the teacher’s answers to the test and gotten away with it when Peyton walked in.
“Tristan, I need to talk with you, privately.”
Amy’s laughter died down immediately. I glanced at Amy and could tell she had just struggled not to sigh or roll her eyes. Instead, she smiled at Peyton and managed to look genuinely concerned.
It made me realize something, and I made a decision. “Peyton, we’re all friends here. I have to be able to rely on Amy at all times. You guys are going to be working together as much as anybody in the building. So, if this is business-related, let’s just get it out in the open. Amy’s with us.”
I thought it might piss her off, but she only nodded. The two of them stood there professionally, dropping whatever had been going on like static in the air, or more like a lightning bolt about to fire. It relieved me so much it was only then I realized how much the two had been winding me up.
“I just—I got back to my desk and felt like an idiot. I think everything that’s come out of my mouth since I started working here have been the stupidest things I could have managed to say.”
She’d been giving me half-assed ideas over the past couple of days, so I didn’t contradict her. Instead, I motioned us all into my office.
Amy reached for the phone. “Why don’t I call for coffee?”
I nodded. “Thanks, Amy, I’d love some.”
As Peyton and I walked in, she took my arm. It surprised me. I couldn’t decide whether to enjoy it or let it irritate me. Too late. I was enjoying it.
We got over to the couches and instead of me sitting across from her in my usual spot, she didn’t let go of my arm. I felt the pressure as I was pulling away and it practically made my knees buckle. My mind suddenly flashed back to one of the nights we had that I don’t know if I’ll ever manage to completely forget, when I took her to a basketball game at my old university, and we stopped at my favorite little Greek food truck, and ate at the table for two behind it, drinking ouzo and having the time of our lives.
“Peyton. C’mon, what’s really the matter?” I asked.
She’d been looking at my face, and it seemed to me she was trying to hold back tears. She slid her arm out of mine as Amy walked in, as though she didn’t want to.
I’m a pretty observant guy, but I’ve learned when it comes to women, I’m about as sophisticated as Baby Huey in a museum full of Faberge eggs. Even I caught the glance Amy gave Peyton as she came in and sat on the couch across from us. Peyton caught it, too. The crackling electricity was back, and I thought it was at last about to go off.
“Look, both of you, I don’t know what the tension is here, but now’s not the time. Let me plead guilty first. It’s been one hell of a few months, and I’ll tell you right now I’m not nearly on top of my game as I should be. I need you both…to put up with me, and do the same thing I’m trying to do, solve, bury, shove aside… do whatever you have to do to get it out of the way until after the party. Maybe by then we’ll realize it’s just the pressure getting to us. We’re in the world of sports. That means our clients eat pressure and out comes golden trophies.”
I got smiles out of that, which was lucky, considering it was normally a metaphor I used for the guys with slightly more colorful language. I pressed the advantage.
“We’ve got to turn the pressure into a challenge. And Peyton, that means you’ve got to realize, all you’ve been doing is clinging to the net at the bottom of the ladders. Pardon the lame analogy, but I hired you because I know you’re ready for the trapeze. No more safety nets. This is the big-time, that means we’ve got a big-time budget. You need to start acting like someone who’s in their dream job, not having her face pressed up against the glass and wishing.”
Peyton bit her lip, but she nodded that I should continue.
“One thing I think will help…Amy get her the full budget. Just forward the master spreadsheet that has every penny on it. Peyton, before you do anything else, study it. You’ll learn more from that than just about anything else could teach about event planning. It doesn’t get any more real-world, current, or high-end. Once you’ve studied it, clear your head and give me one idea, just one, that you think will make it better. You may come up with ten, or twenty, but I’m only going to listen to one.”
“Okay,” Peyton said.
I nodded and addressed Amy. “I think you’ve been worrying about something too much. Forget I’m your boss, okay? Is everything all right? Anything wrong with family?”
She looked at me, surprised. “No, nothing like that. I— it’s just— the truth—”
“She’s been worried about you,” Peyton interjected, “and I think I know why. And I know exactly how I can help.”
I didn’t understand. Peyton smiled and scootched away from me on the couch. Part of me hated that, but a much larger part of me felt a wave of relief.
Peyton looked at me, then at Amy, and back at me. “Tristan, you’re amazing. Really, I mean that. You’re absolutely right about everything you said, and I feel so much better. Amy and I were planning on going out for a glass of wine tonight, but if it’s okay with you both, I’d like to do it now.”
I must have looked like a basketball player on defense in a two-on-one situation, my head swiveling back and forth between them.
“Let’s go,” Peyton suggested to Amy.
Amy stood, smiled, and just like that, they left me, the stunned mullet, watching them walk out of my office arm in arm to drink adult beverages. I had to admit, I was extremely jealous.