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“You’re pushing this too far, Tristan,” Mother had said with a cold voice after my father stormed out of the room. “Ferdinand isn’t happy with you, Son. He needs you.”
Where had he been all the times I needed him? I remained silent as her words drilled inside my pounding head.
“Your great-grandfather built Cooperson Corporation from the ground up with the little money he had in his pocket when he arrived from England.” She hit me with the same old story about our legacy. “It would be an honor to take over. You’re wasting the opportunity of a lifetime.”
“I don’t want it. Keep your opportunities. I’m happier living in California.”
“Are you still gay?” My mother crossed her arms.
Queer, I’m queer, Mom. Bisexual, if you’d like to label me,I thought but didn’t answer.
“We expected the teenage phase would be gone by now. You’re thirty-three. Time to grow up, Tristan,” she continued.
I couldn’t help myself and released a big laugh.
As if I could change my sexual orientation with time. Gay isn’t the term, but I didn’t explain that she’s wrong about it either. No amount of money or therapies changed who I am. Those “treatments” only confused the hell out of me.
I lost friendsandmyself during that period. If I’m not careful, I might even lose the closest friend I’ve had in years, and my lover. But I didn’t tell her any of that. I remained silent for a few breaths.
I flinch at the memory of that fucking conversation. I’m older, I remind myself while massaging my temples. They can’t beat the hell out of me the way they used to. No. They can’t touch me anymore.
Thank. Fuck.
So, why do I still let them?
Between the fatigue, the sun’s reflection, and the noise, I don’t notice when Victoria approaches me. The whiff of her sweet floral perfume overwhelms my senses. As I scrunch my nose, she tosses her long, shiny hair over one shoulder, leaving the other bare. The attempt at a seductive pose does nothing to excite anything inside me. My only worry is that it’s too cold for the skimpy dress she’s wearing.
“I’ve been looking all over for you, Tristan.” She licks her lips as she angles her face. The practiced number is not working for me. “We have to catch up. It’s hard to get to know you when you live on the other side of the country.”
“That’s where my life is, Victoria.” This was worse than a board meeting. “Between LA and Seattle, I don’t have time to come over often.”
“I understand. I barely have time to play around, but maybe next time I’m in LA, I can visit you.” I resist the urge to step away from her. Not because I’m enjoying the torture, but because I spot my mother watching me from the other side of the courtyard. “Maybe I can visit your offices and talk about doing the advertisement for your… What is it that you do again?”
“I own bars and nightclubs along the West Coast.”
Her face remains indifferent. Is she waiting for more?
Like my parents, she’s probably waiting for me to add something extra. Owning a few little nightclubs is hardly considered anything spectacular in my family. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I decided to open a pub down in San Mateo when I left.
Once I turned twenty-one, and my trust fund became available, I took advantage and cashed it. My first order of business was to donate half to the LGBT charity in Connecticut. After that, I dropped out of Yale and moved to California. The best way to start my new, independent life was by starting a business that had nothing to do with my family. A pub. Of course, that independence only goes so far, like when I head back to my parents’ during the holidays and can’t seem to cut all the ties attached.
“Is that all?” Her body slumps slightly before she recovers and corrects her posture. “I get it. Why would you care when you’re going to be the one in charge of Cooperson Corporation soon? Understandable. Will you be selling them when you move back?”
The question hits me in the chest. I’ve worked for almost ten years to create the name Tristan Cooperson—to become who I am. Not only my family, but everyone here swears I’m going to sell that part of myself and move here to… become my father.
They want me to marry this woman who, even though she’s attractive, means nothing to me. My mind travels to Seattle and the beautiful and mysterious bartender from Silver Moon. I want to get to know more about her.
If I ever allow myself to fall in love with someone, it would be with her—or Matt.
I push up my sunglasses. “You seem like a smart woman.” I wave a finger around while scanning the area. “This is not my scene. I don’t belong here. You’re not my type of woman.”
I pause, holding the words that we would never belong to each other.
“Most importantly, I’m not planning on following in my father’s steps.”
Victoria’s sharp intake shifts the air around the premises. “But… think about everyone, not just you,” she screeches.
I grin. “For the sake of everyone else, I should stay away.” I wink at her.
