“Exactly,” Tripp says smoothly before turning his attention back to my aunt. “Peggy, have you ever visited the spa at Reserve?”
“Oh, goodness no.” she hoots.
Tripp’s movie star smile is back in place, and Peggy is visibly hypnotized.
“Well, today seems like a good time for a first visit, wouldn’t you say? On my account, of course. If you’ll allow me to escort you.” He holds out a bent elbow, and she hooks her arm right in, no hesitation, goggling up at the young man who left bruises on my booty last night. “On the way there, I can tell you about how your stubborn niece became the love of my life overnight and now I lose my goddamn mind every time she’s not in the sameroom as me.” He sends me a look packed with yearning. “We can stop at the dress shop on the way. I have something to take care of.”
Before either of us can respond to those revealing statements, my aunt is whisked from the room. My manager and I are left in awkward silence, and we trade an uncomfortable glance.
“I’m going to work now,” I say.
“I think that’s a good idea.”
I’m halfway out the door when he calls my name.
“Vida?”
“Yes?” I say, my hand resting on the jamb.
He opens his mouth and closes it. “Be careful.”
Puzzled, I spend the rest of the morning trying to decipher what he meant.
I also spend it thinking hard about my priorities. Is there a way to integrate Tripp’s lifestyle with my own and remain true to who I am? I’m beginning to feel silly rejecting his gestures and gifts in the name of…what? Pride?
There must be a way to meet him halfway.
He proudly proclaimed me as his girlfriend to his wealthy friends and godfather, not a hint of shame that I exist in a different economic sphere. He kept his promise to make my workplace safer. He defended my honor at the cost of jeopardizing a friendship. Been generous to my aunt.
Maybe…I can do something more to balance the effort each of us is making?
Maybe I can give in, just a little more?
FOURTEEN
Tripp
I paceback and forth in front of my hotel room door, my watch telling me that Vida is two minutes late. One more minute and I’m going to start yelling and stomping. I’m not a yellerora stomper—I’m a calm, collected leader of men with three years of an Ivy League education under his belt. But I’m under some kind of Vida-induced hysteria where, if I don’t see her for a couple of hours, I start to feel like the world is fucking ending.
The scent of her is flowing in my veins.
My skin is addicted to contact with hers.
Her voice haunts my mind like a sweet, swelling symphony crescendo.
Our future needs cementing. I need to knowby todaythat she’s not going to be attending school two and a half hours from me. Which likely means there is an argument ahead, and while I’d rather be arguing with Vida than speaking to literally anyone else on the planet, I don’t like upsetting her in any way. I loathe the idea of her being anything but happy.
But this must be done for my peace of mind—and because she deserves better.
There’s a soft knock on my door, and I realize I need to get Vida a key.
Annoyed at myself for not thinking of that sooner, I stride for the door and pull it open.
My irritation evaporates like a puddle in the sunshine.
Vida is smiling at me.
Within a split second, I’m grinning back at her like a dope.
