Matter of Choice (15 page)

Chapter Twenty Two

He strode confidently across the quiet lobby, business portfolio cupped casually in a palm, to stand before a middle-aged receptionist. “Triston Keyes to meet with Veronica Hemrick.”

“I’ll notify her of your arrival. Please have a seat over there.”

Triston followed the gesture to a cluster of black pleather seats surrounding a metal glass table covered by magazines. He lowered into one of the chairs, elbows on knees, not interested in the golf and business periodicals, while his mind launched into a hundred different scenarios for the upcoming meeting. If Veronica was alone, if she wasn’t, the optimism he had that their past wouldn’t be mentioned. He had no desire to revisit old history, surely neither did she.

He still hadn’t had the opportunity to share the news of the meeting with Shannon. She wouldn’t be so optimistic about any time spent with Veronica, he was certain about that. His jaw pulsated. If only he’d been able to find her before he left the Grande that morning.

Absentmindedly, he eased the portfolio resting between a leg and chair arm onto his lap and opened the binding. Triston flipped through familiar diagrams, biography, and facts and figures. Dating Jenn didn’t work well, but she was irreplaceable as a colleague, and had sent him all the files needed to download and print before the meeting. His eyes lifted to look out the windows of the tall glass building located in lower Manhattan only two blocks from the East River, on the outskirts of the financial district. A hotdog vendor minded his cart, taxi drivers passing in a yellow parade, buildings dwarfed by their cousins standing sentinel a few blocks over. Not bad for a girl from Wisconsin. But then, Veronica had a way with chasing money and doing whatever it took to get it. Twenty years ago, her goals were set high, and he guessed nothing had changed.

“Mr. Keyes? Ms. Hemrick is ready to see you. Please come this way.”

He stood and followed the receptionist, a woman in her fifties with silver fox hair and a thick middle. She led him past the security doors with a keycard clipped to her blazer and into a small meeting room furnished with a lengthy oak table, dozen chairs, and Veronica sitting at the head donning a grin.

“That’ll be all, Suzette. Thank you.”

Suzette nodded and closed the doors as she left, while Veronica motioned to the chair closest to her. Triston nodded and sat down, laid the folder on the table, and angled the chair to fully face her. He was surprised to see she looked nearly as good as in high school. No wrinkles, no grey hair. Breasts fuller, lips puffed. Plastic surgery screamed a testimonial, and he nearly visibly smirked. Figured.

“It’s nice to see you again, Triston. It’s been a long time.”

His teeth clenched for a moment. “Yes, it has. How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing well, very well, as you can see.
And I hear you have been too.”

He dropped his head to the side, fingers tapping the folder. She was digging, and a recently common phrase echoed between his ears:
Some things don’t change
. “I’ve been doing okay. Keyes Associates is securing clients in some of the top markets, and will provide your company with services like employee selection and retention, training and development, benefits analysis and -“

Veronica pushed the chair back and crossed long legs. “Triston, I don’t want to hear the company spiel. I’m talking about you. You’re doing well. Not married, I’m guessing.” She nodded at his hand. “No ring. The way I remember it, we had a great time in high school. Wouldn’t be such a bad thing to get a drink, see if we could still have fun.”

Triston narrowed his eyes and stood. “This is not the reason I came here today, Veronica. Are we discussing business? If not, I thank you for the invitation and can leave now. I’m not interested in anything more than the business proposal I’m here in regards to.”

She sighed. “Oh, take a load off, Triston. You are here for business, and we can discuss the business proposal and possible contract. But there’s nothing wrong with mixing a little pleasure with business, is there?”

His jaw set firm as he eased back down. “Veronica, let’s be clear. I don’t mix the two, and I’m certainly not going to mix with you.”

She leaned back, tapping a pen against her teeth. “So there is someone now? Serious?”

Triston reached for the folder to reveal the papers inside. “Let’s get started with the meeting, Veronica. My personal life is off limits, and I’m only in town for the day.” His head twinged with hint of a headache. He had traded Shannon for Veronica, it didn’t get more idiotic than that. The headache worsened, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

The pen in her mouth was lowered, and Veronica pushed the chair closer to the table. “Okay, Triston. All business, if that’s the way it must be. Prove to me your company is the one Berks and Brown should choose. If you make a strong enough case, I can pass your pretty paperwork there to Mr. Berks, and he will instruct me as to whether or not he’ll enter into an arrangement with Keyes Associates.”

Two hours later, Triston hailed a cab and collapsed into its bench, directing the driver to the parking ramp near the Holland Tunnel. The contract was awarded, and he would turn most of the work over to Jenn to manage. He rarely managed accounts personally anymore, and though he missed that part of business, this was one account he had no interest in overseeing. If he never spoke to Veronica again, it would be fine with him. A finger rested against his closed mouth. In all of her status, Veronica was nothing more than she was in high school, too attracted to money, and willing to do whatever it took to get it. She turned his head once when his hormones ruled the wrong parts of his body. He may still be a man, but he thought clearer these days, and she did nothing for him. But then, he was approaching forty, and knew what he wanted now.

He drummed his leg in a quick four count beat, romance pushed aside for private celebration. The account was the largest Keyes Associates had been granted to date. Christmas would be coming early for himself and his employees in terms of large paychecks and future possibilities Berks and Brown would open doors to. As he peered out the window, enormous skyscrapers begged for attention, teased with possibility. Thoughts circled his head like vultures, options to consider burgeoning. It
would take some looking into.

But first to go back to the Grande and share the good ne
ws with Shannon.

*

Shannon spent the afternoon hiding in her office, facing the tears and dread of a future with a man she no longer loved, dreading the need to teach her heart to care for him again. Face the torment of never seeing Triston. The irony of the changes taken place in a mere couple weeks raked the depths of her being. Now she had to go back to the beginning, pretend none of it happened.

As afternoon faded into evening, she knew there was no
use putting off the inevitable.

Shannon’s heart pounded as she stood outside of Triston’s door, clicking fingernail tips against one another as she stared at the numbers, head bowed, eyebrows high on her forehead. There was only one thing about to happen, she was going to destroy them both. He deserved better than this, she was sure, better than her.

She closed her eyes as her knuckles rapped against the green painted wood, and held her breath.

The weak attempt at a smile fooled him as Triston’s face appeared in the opened doorway, but only for a moment.

“Hi, Shy. I’m glad you came by, I needed to talk to you.” He paused, gaze washing her up and down. “What’s the matter?”

She swallowed hard. “Can I come in?”

He stepped aside, eyes intensifying as he studied her. Shannon didn’t have the strength to hold her head up. Shame chipped at her deepest reaches, leaving her nothing left.

She crossed the room, oblivious to the television, the cookies opened on the counter, his scent enveloping the room better than any fre
shener the maids ever sprayed. She didn’t hear Triston close the door, but knew he must have, because the concern emitted into the room was suffocating.

As Shannon stared out the window at the view of the Hudson, she felt him approach, the arms as they wrapped around her stomach.

“Shy?”

Palms pushed firmly against the embrace until his arms fell to his sides, and she turned to face him. But the words wouldn’t come as she stared into his eyes. And the tears began to fall.

Triston lifted a hand to cup her cheek, thumb rubbing a tear away. “Shy. What is it? What’s the matter?”

She blinked long and hard, then smiled with tight lips. “This is silly. I shouldn’t be crying. I should be singing from the rooftops.”

His eyes dropped for a moment and then lifted again, a valley forming between tightened brows. “What are you talking about, honey? What’s going on?”

Shannon raked her hands through her hair, palms stopping to encircle her throat as the strands tangled around her fingers. “It’s Greg. He visited me earlier today.” She shrugged and smiled in fake motion. “He remembers everything. Well, almost everything.”

Triston eased down onto the bed, and reached out for her hand, pulling her next to him. “He remembers what? Grabbing you the other day, knocking that boy out? Or how about sleeping with your best friend?”

She shrunk against the coarse words. He had a right to his anger, but he didn’t know that yet. When she spoke, voice barely a whisper, Shannon closed her eyes as he leaned closer. “The important stuff. That I’m his wife, that we’re married. He remembers my being there all this time, waiting for him.”

He smirked. “Does he remember cheating on you? Ripping your heart out time after time and stomping all over it?”

“Triston, please.”

“Please what?” He dropped her hand and leaned away, realization sweeping its cold reality across his features. “You can’t tell me you’re going back to him.”

Shannon dropped her head, tears dripping into her lap.

Triston shot up from the bed and paced to the television. “That’s what you’re here to tell me, isn’t it? That you are going back to that bastard?”

“Triston, he’s my husband.”

“Who you were divorcing not twenty-four hours ago.”

“Everything’s changed now. He knows.”

“Sure he does. Now that you’re not waiting around like some lost puppy dog.”

“How dare you?”

“Wait. How dare I? Shy, yesterday you were in my arms, kissing me. We made a promise to one another to try again, talked about plans for the future and forever. Now you’re telling me you’re staying with him.” He nodded upward in a tight jerking motion. “So what was that yesterday? Payback for something that happened when we were kids?”

“What are you talking about? We kissed, Triston, and that was all. It doesn’t change the fact I’m still married and still have vows to stand by. And I’m not into childish paybacks.”

He neared her, the aggression broadening his shoulders, and she cowered backwards. “So it all meant nothing? I wasn’t here, Shy, because it meant nothing.” Before she could react, he reached out and pulled her against him, lips pressing hard against her resistance as his fingers held firm against the back of her head.

Shannon struggled, pushing against his shoulders, until Triston finally let go with a triumphant grin. “Tell me that meant nothing, Shy. Go ahead and try to form the words on those fevered lips of yours.”

“You arrogant jerk! Animal!” She rushed towards the door, but Triston’s hand shot out and grabbed her arm. Not hard and calloused like Greg, but firm and wanting. Her shoulders rose and fell with desire and hurt.

“Animal?” He laughed. “Oh baby, you need some help with your definitions. The only animal in this game is that dog of a husband you’re married to. I told you yesterday, and I’ll tell you again, even though you’re trying your best to rip my heart out and stomp all over it with those high heels of yours. I love you. Always have, always will. I’d marry you today, if I had the chance, and make up for the mistakes I made when I was young and stupid for the rest of my life. Treat you like the royalty you are.” He stepped forward. “Tell me you don’t love me.”

She shook her head. “Why are you doing this? I’m still married!”

“At least be honest enough to tell me … you love me.”

“No.” Her eyebrows shot upward, eyes stern even as grief plagued her every feature. “It’s wrong and I’m not going to say it.”

“Then make it right. Leave him. Continue with the divorce, and leave him, before he hurts you again.”

“What makes you think you can push me like this? I told you before, Triston, I’m going to do what’s right.”

He sighed. “Then go back to that farce of a marriage you’re in. Wait and see what Greggy boy does once he realizes you’re his again. Because those are the choices you have. But sweetie, as much as I love you, I’m not going to wait around forever. I’m not a martyr. If you go back to your marriage, I wish you the best. Truly, I do. But I will leave. And I won’t come back.” He let go of her. “Let
me know what you decide, okay?”

She stood in front him for a moment, staring at the emerald fire in his eyes, wishing she knew what to say to make it better. To make it right. Some way to tell him what he wanted to
hear. What she wanted to say.