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I’d rather miss our sexual relationship—and I do—than have him drunk and lost. Caring for drunks or anyone intoxicated isn’t fun. I did that a lot for Jacob, and it’s not a route I’m willing to take. I respect and admire my parents, but I doubt I could abstain from alcohol like Dad does because Papa is a recovering alcoholic. Maybe I’d have to be in love to even contemplate that.
Tristan enters the kitchen and says, “I didn’t say that I miss you, but some days I do.”
I grin at him and blow him a kiss to make him squirm.
“Breakfast at four in the morning isn’t the same without you.”
“I know,” I say, sipping my coffee. “Instead of saying goodbye, you should stay over for the weekend. Have fun with the butterfly and me while we work at the bar.”
“I’ll think about it.” He salutes me and leaves again.
Sitting at the breakfast table, I grin. Maybe things between us will never work, but now he has a different concept of who I am.
Instead of the obnoxious brother of his business partner, I’m now a friend and a potential partner too. I call that a win-win situation. I browse through the news on my phone while finishing breakfast and place the dirty dishes in the sink when I’m done. Heading to take a shower, I plan the rest of the day, including going to Silver Moon. Thursday is busier at the bar. I have to beat the crowd in order to talk to Thea about editing the Nexus Point books. I need to hire a new editor soon, and the faster I convince her, the better for both of us. She needs the money, and I need the help.
I clean my forehead. Working at a bar for six hours is as exhausting as working out in a gym.
The Thursday night crowd doubled from yesterday. My fault, according to Thea. MJ Decker at the Silver Moon trended all night through several social media engines. By eight o’clock, we closed the doors and called Mason to send extra security details.
Even after we shut the doors, a long line of patrons stood outside the venue waiting for hours to be let in. All for their turn to be close to one of the famous Decker triplets. Reed loved the attention and was happier once Tristan arrived to help him wait tables.
“Here.” Tristan hands Thea a wad of bills. “Your cut of the night.”
Thea frowns at him and doesn’t accept it. “That’s what we do at my places. The waiters have to give a cut to the bartender.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, handing me an envelope.
“What is this?” I ask as I go through the cash inside.
“Tips,” she says with a whispery voice. “Thanks to you we made almost a thousand dollars in only one night.”
I take the wad Tristan was handing her, place it inside, and hand it back to her. “Keep it. You’re the one that busted her ass all night.” I take off her cap and watch her hair fall down as I untie it. “Better. I like you that way.”
She serves me with an eye roll that makes me want to kiss her, but I don’t.
“Reed has to hire someone else. Next week I can’t be here until Friday.” Then I look at Tristan. “You?”
“I can stay until Sunday morning. If I move my schedule around, I might be able to fly back Tuesday evening.” Tristan pulls out his phone and taps it several times. “Then return to California on Friday when you’re back. Will that work for you?”
“Sounds doable,” I say, looking at Thea. “What do you have going on tomorrow around noon?”
“Rest, catch up with my business stuff. Not sure…” She trails off suspiciously. “Why?”
Reed approaches us. It’s time for her to go home. Since Tristan and I have to stay to clean up, I lean forward, kiss her cheek and say, “We’ll pick you up then. Sweet dreams, Butterfly.”
ChapterThirty
Tristan
During the morning,I have a virtual meeting with Mark, my assistant. We set up the schedule for the next few weeks. I’ll have to travel only twice next week, but after that I can stay longer in Seattle. At eleven, Matt reminds me we have plans—hiking with Thea.
It was a great idea, up until we head to pick her up.
“Why am I here?” The question sounds better thandon’t you think this is awkward?I mean… “Sounds like you’ve planned some kind of date with her. I’d hate to be the third wheel.”
He laughs. “Dude, when I take her on a date, it’ll be to some fancy place.” He moans. “Shit, I said when not if. That’s bad, right?”
“Or good, depending on how you see it, Matt,” I respond, tilting my head to the driver’s side and wondering what he’s thinking. “When was the last time you took someone out on a date?”
