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Tobias
My phone buzzes against my thigh.
Tris. Everything else goes through my assistant.
No doubt something else about Zeke. To tempt me. Tease me. Drive me insane.
If he touched her...
I look to the woman sitting across from me. She's talking about her startup. Some medical technology that will save the world. It's a brilliant idea, but it's going to take a lot of money.
Even then, it's a long shot.
Still worth the risk. I make an offer.
She stares back at me, mouth agape, eyes filled with surprise. She's new to this world. Everything is still thrilling. Everything is still second to the mission.
"Of course, Mr Eaton. Just get the paperwork to our lawyer." She smiles, excited but careful.
I like her. If things were different, I'd invite her to dinner. Or to skip dinner and go straight to sex. I used to play a lot, yes. But I enjoyed normal sex too. Whatever normal means.
So long as women understand my terms—that I'm always the one who moves things along—I enjoy a lot.
Now...
She's intelligent, articulate, beautiful. A lithe brunette with trendy clothes and defined features. If she wasn't a medical student, she could be a model. I'm sure she turns every head that passes her. I'm sure most men picture her in their bed.
But I don't. I only see Tris. Already, my head is filling with thoughts of her soft groan. Her pale thighs. Her red lips.
I need that again.
I need her on my bed. I need her writhing with pleasure. So much she's begging me to stop.
"Of course." I stand. Shake the start-up founder's hand. Walk her to the door.
My assistant says something about the next meeting, but I ask her to wait. She offers coffee. When I say no, she looks at me like I'm crazy.
It is crazy. I don't turn down coffee. I'm a walking cliché. The recovering alcoholic who turned to sex and caffeine.
But then I guess I already have my preferred fix.
"An espresso, yes." I wave thanks. "In ten minutes. I have a call."
Her expression gets knowing. She's almost as bad as Tori. God, when Tori and Amar get together—
I'm sure Tris would roll her eyes at a third assistant. It is ridiculous. But I need to keep things separate. I need sharp lines between every segment of my life. It's the only way.
I lock the door. Lower the shades facing the floor. Turn to the window.
It's already late morning. Almost noon. The sky is a brilliant shade of blue. The sun is shining. The water is sparkling.
I'm far enough south I can see where the Hudson and the East River meet. I can see the lush trees of Battery Park.
They were a soft pink two months ago. Now, they're a bright green. A shade that screams of a coming summer.
Hopeful.
For once, I appreciate it.
I pull my cell from my pocket. But it's not another picture of Tris in violet lingerie.
Tris: Just Shauna. But he might be there. To drop her off. Or at their apartment.
My blood boils. My fucking best friend. I don't need the reminder.
It's bad enough that bastard is reminding me of the timeline. It's bad enough I'm rushing the announcement. The wedding itself. The fucking planning.
Now I have to picture Zeke with Tris.
As much as I doubt Zeke's intentions, I believe he loves his fiancée. He would do anything for Shauna. He would never consider touching another woman. Not now.
Before he met Shauna—
I need to erase that time from my mind. It's not like I was celibate. I slept with plenty of women. If Tris slept with another man, even Zeke my best friend—
I don't have any right to complain.
But my body fails to listen. My palms clench, my ears flame, my stomach churns.
I need her on my desk, her skirt at her waist, her legs spread wide, her back arching as she comes.
Fuck, I'm not holding onto my thoughts for long enough. I need to get a grip.
This wedding should be a joyous occasion. Sure, I'll never love Tris, but I do appreciate her. If I was going to choose a wife, it would be her.
Only it's not my choice. And even the promise of her soft thighs against my cheeks every day, for the rest of my life, isn't enough to erase that.
Nothing can erase the truth.
That bastard is pulling my strings again. No matter what I do, I'll never be out from under his thumb. If I didn't think there was some way he'd hold this over me from the grave, I'd kill him myself.
He deserves worse. He deserves a life of abject misery.
But I haven't managed that. I haven't managed to repay an ounce of the pain he gave me.
One day.
One day, I make him hurt.
Right now, I destroy his bullshit challenge.
Tris: Will it be a dry party?
Tobias: No.
Tris: Do you think that's a good idea?
Maybe not, but I'm not about to advertise my sobriety to the world. Especially not with the likelihood that bastard will attend. I don't need him thinking he's done that to me too.
Tobias: Last I heard, you drink gin. Bombay Sapphire.
Tris: Should I ask how you heard that?
Tobias: Uriah is coming, so I'll have five kinds of tonic water.
Tris: That seems excessive.
Tobias: Apparently, there are a dozen varieties of Fever-Tree. And most bars in London have at least three.
Tris: Are you mocking him? Or is he mocking you?
Tobias: A little of both.
Tris: Wasn't he drinking bourbon at dinner?
Tobias: Like I said, a little of both.
Tris: I'm glad you have a friend you can tease.
Huh. I don't usually think of Uriah as a friend. Friends aren't really my concern. But I guess the word fits him.
Tris: Will Zeke be there?
It would look strange if they didn't come.
But that presents a problem. A big problem.
Zeke always responded to that bastard differently. Zeke prefers honesty and disclosure, at least when it comes to the people he trusts.
He trusts his fiancée.
And he trusts Tris.
Which means—
There's a possibility I need to prevent.
Tobias: We should meet with them before the party. For dinner.
Tris: I was going to suggest that.
Tobias: Great minds.
I'm sure her reasons are different. I'm sure she wants Zeke and I to become best friends again.
A friend is pushing it.
But I do need his cooperation. His agreement. His silence.
I will convince him to keep his mouth shut. Whatever it takes.
Tris
After a few games of Five Hundred Rummy, our millionth viewing of The Da Vinci Code, and Dad shaking his head at my inability to appreciate the brilliance of the movie—how can anyone dislike anything with Tom Hanks?—we take our lunch to the park.
The park. Outside. In the fresh air.
It's something else, seeing Dad walking on the grass. It's been a long time since he's been well enough to come here.
It's a beautiful day. Warm and sunny. I don't even mind my too thick dress. I don't mind overheating as I walk back to our apartment and hug Dad goodbye.
The car is waiting, of course. With the air-conditioning on high. By the time I'm back at Tobias' place, I'm freezing.
And there it is. The afternoon tea Tori promised, waiting for me. I guess Amar called to announce our ETA.
What's it like, having everyone else handle the logistics?
I guess I should get used to it.
The milk tea is perfect. Creamy and sweet. With buttery tea cakes and fresh peaches.
It's almost relaxing, sitting on Tobias' balcony, taking in the beautiful day.
No, it is, for a while. As I sip another pot and leaf through a play I read in high school. It's funny, looking at things as an adult. There's so much more in it. So much I never understood.
I no longer see A Midsummer Night's Dream as a silly romp. It is, but there's more too. After all this debauchery, everyone gets married. They commit to a normal, orderly life.
The characters pay a price for their adventures.
I guess I understand that well.
I try waiting up for Tobias, but I don't make it. In the morning, I wake to an empty apartment. He's already at work.
I enjoy a fancy breakfast—more pancakes, chocolate chip this time—and never-ending cups of tea. Another close look at a famous play.
A Streetcar Named Desire this time.
God, is all theatre this depressing? Why didn't I notice in high school? I guess it fit my mood then. After I lost Mom, it was hard seeing the beauty in the world.
Now—
It's hard to believe I'm better at finding joy, but I am.
I ask Amar to take me to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden. No doubt, he checks with Tobias for permission, but I push that aside. I walk and talk with him. Ask all about his life, growing up in London, and what made him decide to move to America.
And if the rumours are true, about his more... broad sexuality.
He's a gentleman. Teases me but keeps things professional. Even when he whisks me to a champagne tea. And an evening of shopping—I need something for our engagement party, apparently—he keeps bringing the conversation back to me.
What I want to do.
My favourite play.
If I prefer dramas or comedies.
When Mr Eaton is going to take me to see the latest and greatest. And, if not, maybe he'll take me.
He claps when I pick a dress, fills my ears with tales of Tobias visiting London, teases me about my desire to stop at Dunkin Donuts.
Tori can prepare something much better. And there's no way he's allowing a ninety-nine cent doughnut in this household. Especially when it's not even fresh.
It's funny. He's funny. And it feels like we're old friends.
The day feels easy. Until I get home to dinner and I eat alone.
This time, I'm up late enough to see Tobias. But he barely says hello. Just nods, changes into his gym clothes, mention something about needing to work out frustrations.
His eyes flit over me quickly. Like he's considering another way of working out his frustrations.
But he doesn't. He leaves.
Even after a busy, full day—lunch with Dad, afternoon tea, an off-Broadway play—it's impossible to sleep. Tobias is right there. In the next room. Alone.
And I'm here alone.
Why is he avoiding me?
I try to put it out of mind, but I can't. I try counting sheep, but it's useless. I try reading one of the books Dad bought me, but it's not interesting enough.
The question echoes through my mind.
I replay our last encounter again and again. Let my curiosity turn to dirtier things.
But even when I stroke myself to orgasm, it's not enough. It's satisfying.
Sure, I fall asleep. But I don't wake up rested.
I wake up wanting.
Wanting Tobias.