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Lost in thought, I barely notice the figure that suddenly takes a seat across from me at the café table. When I look up, my heart skips a beat as I come face to face with Tristan Winters.
I should have known I wouldn't be able to avoid him for too much longer so him finding me here on a random break came as no surprise.
"Mr. Winters," I address him, trying to keep my tone formal. "What are you doing here?"
Tristan grins, his gaze unwavering. "Will you ever call me Tristan? I just happened to see you from across the street and thought it was the perfect opportunity to catch up, without your constant shadow. I hope you don't mind."
"Okay, Tristan," I reply. "Is there something you wanted to discuss?"
He leans back in his chair, studying me intently. "Actually, yes. I wanted to follow up on our last conversation. Have you given any more thought to my offer of assistance?"
I remember his proposal well – he had suggested helping me from a journalist's perspective, offering insights that could lead to a different angle on the case. With the revelations from Truth and Dare though, I'm not sure I can completely trust Tristan. I’m not sure yet who I can completely trust until I delve deeper into the files.
"I do appreciate the offer," I reply, "but this case is already complicated enough. I'm not sure how involving you as a journalist would be beneficial."
Tristan's grin widens, "Ah, but that's the beauty of it. Sometimes, an outsider's perspective can shed light on things that those involved might overlook. Besides, I've never been one to shy away from a challenging story."
His confidence is evident, and I can't deny the allure of having an additional perspective on the case. Before I can respond my phone buzzes from where I placed it on the table in front of me.
There is a notification on the screen showing a new message from an unknown number. I know who it’s from. I turn the phone over so that the screen is face down on the table.
Tristan raises an eyebrow as he notices my action with the phone. "Don't you need to get that?" he says, gesturing toward the phone. "I’m assuming that’s Agent Derek desperately needing you back at his side already."
I can feel my heart pounding, torn between curiosity and the fear of revealing too much. "It's just a message from a friend," I respond, trying to keep my voice steady. "Nothing urgent."
He leans back in his chair, still wearing that grin. "You seem quite tense for just a message from a friend," he remarks, clearly enjoying the mystery. "But I won't pry. We all have our secrets, don't we? You can answer it, I won’t even ask.” He holds his hands up in a gesture of innocence.
I hesitate for a moment but then pull the phone close to me and hold it so he can’t see the screen as I check it.
I frown at the message, keeping in mind the presence of Tristan across from me.
I place the phone back down again and concentrate back on Tristan. My mind races, and I try to come up with a way to change the subject. "So, about your offer to help with the case... I'm not entirely convinced it's the right move right now."
My phone buzzes again. Holding up a finger, I give Tristan an apologetic look and pick it up.
I already feel the heat in my cheeks from the flush I know has appeared from reading the message. This is definitely not the right time and place for me to answer a question like that, but now I’m stuck between the question on the phone in my hand and the man watching me from across the table.
I take a second to assess the feelings the question raises before I send a quick response and put my phone back down. The path they already have me on is getting darker and deeper each day. I can’t deny my body's instant reaction to the scenario he painted in my head.
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself before I look back at Tristan, but something must still show on my face.
Tristan's expression softens, and he leans forward, his eyes showing genuine interest, but he continues the initial conversation as promised. "Look, I understand your hesitation. But trust me, I have no ulterior motives here. I genuinely want to help, my intentions are to shed light on the truth, just like you. We both want that, right?"
Tristan's sincerity is evident in his words, and I can't help but feel conflicted. On one hand, his help could be valuable, especially with his fresh perspective as a journalist. On the other hand, I'm still grappling with the burden of the secrets I carry, and I don't know if I can fully trust him with everything I know.
"I do want to find the truth," I admit, my voice softening. "But the case has taken some unexpected turns, and I'm afraid it might be too much for an outsider to handle."
Tristan nods thoughtfully, his grin fading into a more serious expression. "I can understand why you might feel that way. But sometimes, it's precisely an outsider's perspective that can see things from a different angle and bring new insights to the table. I won't push you, but if you ever change your mind, just know that I'm here."
"I appreciate that," I reply, my guard still up but more willing to consider his offer. "Let's give it a couple more days. If I don't make any significant progress, I will reach out to you for your perspective."
Tristan's eyes light up with a hint of excitement. "Deal," he says, extending his hand across the table.
I reach out to accept the gesture, feeling a sense of relief and uncertainty all at once. The case is consuming me, and I know I need help. Tristan might be the unexpected ally I didn't know I needed.
His fingers wrap tightly around mine, his hand warm and almost comforting. "I really feel I can help you, so whenever you're ready, just give me a call."
Chapter 22
