Matter of Choice (2 page)

Shannon paged down a few more names, and then regarded the woman who was not only an employee, but her closest friend. “Your housekeepers did a fabulous job. The banquet room was spotless. The special events team did a wonderful job with decorations and catering. The Who’s Who were impressed.”

“And what about you? Did you have fun?”

She looked up from the computer, chestnut eyes fogged with sadness. A hand dropped into her lap as she gazed across the desk. “It would have been nice to have Greg there, not as a complication, but as my husband, my date. I can’t remember the last time we attended anything as a couple outside of the hospital and doctor’s o
ffice. Can’t call those dates.”

Lauren leaned back, tapping her fingers against the wooden armrest. “No, definitely can’t call ‘em that.” She glanced up with a raised eyebrow through smoky makeup. “How much longer do you think you can handle this, Shannon? His amnesia, not knowing who you are, the affairs?”

That question again. Shannon narrowed her eyes as she turned back to the computer, focus heavy on the flat screen. The moving cursor blinked with steady distraction. She sighed. “I don’t know.” The same response to the same question for the last two years. “But I took vows, and I meant them. So things are difficult right now. That’s what marriage is all about. Maybe someday …”

Lauren sat silent for a moment, attention distracted with a faraway look. The light returned, and she ducked her head low into her chest, studying Shannon’s deliberate movements. “Something happened. What is it?”

Shannon shook her head, but didn’t answer. The names paged up and down on the screen, for the hundredth time for all she knew. A good distraction. Lauren may know her horrible truth, but shedding tears was not an option. Crying in anyone’s company left her too vulnerable. That was for behind closed doors.

“You said he didn’t come to the banquet.”

“No, not the banquet. Just a bit ago in the lobby. Made a scene in front of the guests with his drunken display of poor taste. I was able to escort him to a room upstairs.” Shannon turned away, wiping the tears until her skin absorbed the moisture.
So much for hiding emotions.
“Just another day, right?”

“You don’t have to play the role with me. You know that, right?”

Shannon sighed, snorting a rush of air. “I have to play the role to keep from losing my sanity. What else is there?”

Lauren leaned forward to reach across the desk and rested her fingers on top of Shannon’s hand. “You could always leave him.”

She stood and walked over to the window facing the guest parking lot, and the more enticing view of the valley in the near distance. “I guess I could. I should. But when he comes out of this, he’d look around, wonder where I am. When he’d see me, he’d ask, where were you when I needed you the most?” Shannon turned around. “And how would I answer that if I left?”

“Seems to me you’d be answering it honestly. You’ve been trying for, what, a year and a half now? While he does whatever he wants, day after day. Whomever he wants.”

Shannon cringed at the reference. Knowing was not the same as hearing it from someone else. Most weren’t aware of what was taking place. The truth was hidden well behind the lack of socialization and dedication to a career.

And it had been nearly two years of constant and reckless infidelity. But correcting the timeframe did
nothing to correct the matter.

Lauren stood and took her friend’s hand. “You deserve more. There’s a good chance Greg is never going to be more than what he is today. Sometimes, leaving is the only choice left.”

Shannon reached out and patted her hand. “You’re right. I know. But I’m not there. No matter how many times he steps on my heart …”

“Tramples all over it is more like it.”

She smiled ruefully, Lauren was right. “No matter how many times, I just can’t leave him.”

Lauren sighed and shook her head, dropping her hand to the side. “Well, I’m here. You know that. If you need to
talk, or an ear, or whatever.”

“Thanks.” She cleared her throat and stiffened her back. “Well, back to work. I haven’t looked through all the check-ins yet, so I better get that off my plate.”

Lauren shook her head, then smiled. “Brave girl. All right, I’ll catch you later. I suppose I better get to it myself. Call if you need.”

“Mmm,” she agreed, settled back at the desk, focus already locked
on the computer.

Seconds later she heard her friend close the wood office door. “At least I have my work,” she mumbled without dive
rting her eyes from the screen.

Shannon scrolled through the last of the names, pleased to see no one she recognized as famous or particularly needy. An easy workload. An index finger tapped the down arrow once more, and stopped, hovering over the black key, her brows furrowed. “That’s impossible. It couldn’t be him. Could it?”

Shannon stared at the name a moment longer. It shouldn’t matter if it was the same man. But somehow, the trembling in her stomach said it did.

Triston Keyes.

She stood, and headed towards the front desk. This she had to see.

Chapter Two

The grand space of the lobby was quieter, the normal routine of people moving about, coming and going, relaxing and enjoying their stay. Shannon’s eyes moved across the white and pink marble columns set against soft gray walls. No one she recognized from the past. It made sense, how would her past accidently find her in upp
er New York? It wasn’t likely.

A couple passed by and she acknowledged them with a smile and nod. Circling the hand-carved Italian marble table, Shannon paused to straighten the fresh flowers before making her way to the front desk. Naomi sat behind the cherry oak desk, in her mid-twenties with inky glistening hair brushed the back of the chair. Her dove eyes testifying of kindness, the nametag pinned to a white button-down shirt notating her professionalism and seniority as Senor Customer Servi
ce Agent. Shannon adored her.

“It’s early, I know, but has a T
ristan Keyes checked in yet?”

Naomi typed with inch long nails tapping each key in a musical symphony, then looked up with a smile. “No, ma’m. He hasn’t. VIP?”

Shannon shook her head and returned the friendly gesture. “No, but … can you call me when he arrives?”

“Of course.” The girl t
ilted her head, eyebrow raised.

Bizarre requests warranted odd expressions
, Shannon thought with a silent chuckle. Can’t begrudge an employee that. Especially not one as valuable as Naomi.

“Do you want me to complete the check in, or stall him until you can come to the front desk?”

“Stall him if you can, but not obviously.” She smiled as Naomi nodded. Another thought and a change of direction. The warmth faded. “The guests in the lobby earlier during the scene with Mr. Winters, were they all provided with dinner vouchers?”

Naomi nodded. “Yes, ma’m. No one seemed very angry though, mostly just surprised and pleased with a free dinner.”

Little consolation came from the words. The lack of anger brought some relief, but the situation happened, and shouldn’t have. Shannon had to make it right the best way she could. Free meals seemed a small token when compared to the discomfort Greg brought into the hotel. Passing or not, the expressions whitewashed on the guests’ faces spoke volumes. “Thank you. I appreciate you tending to that matter.” She began to turn and walk away, but stopped to face the woman again, “You do a wonderful job. It is appreciated.”

Shannon strolled away from the front desk, heart thumping a bit harder.
Triston Keyes
. A name she hadn’t heard in a long time, a very long time. But it would be nearly impossible for
this
Triston Keyes and
that
Triston Keyes to be one and the same. Absolutely impossible.

But as she sat behind her desk, Shannon grinned. Stranger things have happened.

*

The phone rang once, and Shannon’s fingers jolted from the keyboard, mouth instantaneously dry. She stared wide-eyed at the line lit in glaring red, knowing it could only mean one thing. The front desk. A Mr. Triston Keyes must be checking in. “There must be a thousand Triston Keyes’ out there. And why would I want to see him even if it is
the same man?” she whispered.

Neither thought slowed her down. If it was him, it would be interesting to see how Triston turned out, even if she didn’t talk to him. Chances were he wouldn’t remember her anyway. Still, it couldn’t hurt to see …

Curiosity is such an awful thing
, she thought as she closed the office door.

Shannon looked down at the Bolivia pearl-faced watch adorning her wrist. Noon. An early check-in was the perfect excuse to assist a guest personally. After all, early check-ins were not always granted.
And
, she thought as her heels exchanged the plush of the burgundy carpeting of employee hall for marble floors,
if an excuse was needed, it was as good as any
.

The front lobby was relatively quiet, the morning check-outs gone, the afternoon check-ins not yet arrived. Typical of the staffs’ favorite time of day. Midday presented a chance to accomplish menial tasks elsewhere in the hotel. Laid back. Easy.

But today, with that name ringing between her ears, Shannon felt far from relaxed. Her eyes darted from one corner of the lobby to the other, searching.

Time stopped as her eyes settled on him. The same angular face, now dashed with the hint of stubbled beard, the same sandy brown hair worn long enough to curl around his ears and brush his neck, the same boyishly charming smile. Shannon’s hand fluttered upward to hover over her mouth as she fought back an affectionate smile. He hadn’t changed a bit
from high school. Not one bit.

Except he had, she realized as the man leaned casually against the counter. He’
d become even more attractive.

No room for doubt now. Triston Keyes was her Triston Keyes. High school sweetheart. Bad boy who had gotten away. The one who had made her heart pitter patter from the moment she had lai
d eyes on him twenty years ago.

Shannon’s eyes narrowed. The one who’d broken her heart.

Really. How dare he show up at the Grande? Now. Ever.

She marched forward, halfcocked, ready to vehemently scold Triston, until the pretty little blond came out from behind him, took hold of his hand, leaning her head gently on a broad
shoulder. The picture of love.

Shannon stopped short. How could she be so stupid? Of course he wasn’t there to see her. That was near twenty years ago, and she didn’t amount to more than a notch on his belt and a good chuckle with the guys. A year long relationship easily discarded. Why she had rushed out like a love-sick teenager was beyond her. What did she expect, for Triston to light up like a Christmas tree at the sight of her and throw himself at her unavailable, committed feet?
Talk about irrational and vain.

He turned his head and their eyes met for a moment, disappointment searing through her, any hope of making a stealthy retreat crushed. It was too late to turn around. All she could do now wa
s play it off. Be professional.

And act stupid.

Shannon stepped forward, hand held out. “Hello. Welcome to the Grande. I’m Shannon Winters, manager of the Grande Marquis. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Triston’s eyes lit up, a smirk playing across his lips, “We’re just checking in.” He nodded towards the desk. “Your front desk clerk here was nice enough to find a room already available. But, thank you.”

“Good. I’m happy to hear it. Feel free to let me know if there is anything I can do to make your stay with us more comfortable.”

“We’ll do that.”

Shannon nodded. “Again, welcome. And make yourself at home. That’s what we’re here for, your home away from home.”

Triston smiled.

Shannon grimaced. She sounded like a bad commercial. What was the matter with her? They weren’t high schoolers any longer, not in years, and certainly she knew better than to act like some poor, lovesick idiot. Rushing from her office, scoping him out among the other patrons. Just as she thought, Triston didn’t recognize her, and it wouldn’t have mattered if he did. Shannon’s mind rocketed into high gear, the need to clean up the sloppy attempt at not being obvious gnawing at her. Reports from Naomi, that could work, having her run some reports.

Another familiar voice boomed behind her, dashing the need for a quick cover-up and making things exponentially worse. Shannon blinked in slow motion, rocks in her gut piling high and heavy. Shan
non turned to face her husband.

Greg was alone, a pleasant surprise. But already, or maybe still, drunk. “Some hotel you have here. Some hotel. Lots of pretty girls. Oh, look at this one here.” Shannon watched in horror as Greg edged closer to Triston’s companion. “You sure are something sweetheart. If you get bored with this guy here,” he tapped Triston’s shoulder with two point
ed fingers, “come and find me.”

The woman’s cheeks flushed crimson, while Triston’s smile morphed into intimidating tightness. “Watch it there, buddy.”

“Oh, man, don’t take it personal. It’s just most ladies, you know, they can’t keep their hands off me.”

“Then I would think it would be left to you to show a little restraint.” Triston stepped forward, should
ers dropped at his body tensed.

A nightmare in the making, the men edged closer to one another. The humorless smile on Greg’s face was one Shannon recognized. Patience was wearing thin, the alcohol compelling him forward. The amnesia left him void of restraint and common sense, as a half dozen ar
rests from bar brawls attested.

But not in her hotel, and certainly not between these two guys. Shannon rushed between the two men. “Gentlemen, please. Security!”

One of her best, Stevens, jogged to her side. “Come on, Greg. Leave the young couple alone. You’re forgetting your place.”

Greg staggered backwards, hands high in the air. “Hey, hey. No harm meant. I wasn’t trying to step on anyone else’s toes. No need to get your tightie whities in a bunch, Stevens.” A grunt escaped through the smirk and he turned towards Triston. “Listen, to show there’s no hard feelings, come join me in the bar later this evening. We’ll have a drink and laugh about it.”

Triston’s shoulders relaxed. “No harm, but I’ll think I’ll pass on the drink. Looks like you’ve had enough already.”

Greg roared with laughter. “No such thing.” He slapped Triston on the shoulder, the
thwump
dull. He didn’t wait for a reply as he stumbled towards the restaurant, waving and shouting at passing guests who dodged and hurried away.

Shannon nodded at Stevens. The security guard started after him with long confident strides. She’d never thrown Greg out of the hotel, but Stevens knew to keep a watchful eye. If the time ever came, her head guard would be able to handle th
e situation better than anyone.

Clearing her throat, she turned to Triston and his companion once again. “On behalf of the Grande, I do apologize.”

The woman next to Triston flipped her hair over a shoulder, the waist long flaxen mane swinging around to brush his back. The slight nasally tone was one Shannon remembered well from her days in the Big Cheese State, an accent she traded in long ago to mirror New York socialites.

“You ought to. We didn’t think this was
that
kind of hotel. The amount you charge per night …”

“Jennifer, that’s enough. She has no more control over the guests than we do.” Triston turned to Shannon, the smile and eyes the same brilliance Shannon remembered well. “You don’t have to apologize. Even rich people get drunk and act crazy.”

Shannon nodded, unable to pull her focus away from the dimpling grin. “I guess. Either way, please stop by the front desk the first time you visit the restaurant and a couple of certificates for dinner will be waiting for you. Now, please excuse me. I must see to my other guests.”

With one arm draped over Jennifer’s shoulders, Triston reached out to shake Shannon’s hand. “That isn’t necessary, but thank you.”

Shannon nodded and walked away, ignoring Jennifer’s affectionate giggling as the couple headed towards the elevator. That couldn’t have gone worse. She’d looked like a fool, and the Grande like a common roadside inn. She couldn’t help but think, as she rushed across the corridor, she deserved it for thinking about seeing him. A finger rubbed absently over the gold diamond encrusted band encircling the finger on her left hand. It still stood for something, even if Greg didn’t realize it. Triston had just done her a favor. Besides, what would she have done if it had gone any other way. Absolutely nothing. Because that’s what vows were all about.

*

Triston turned his head, glancing over a shoulder and around Jennifer’s head at Shannon’s figure as she hurried to wherever she was going. Seeing her had made his blood flow in ways he hadn’t expected. Ways which brought a wash of other memories he’d thought were buried in long forgotten drawers somewhere in a corner of his mind, but apparently not as lost as he’d thought.

“Three hundred something a night is way too much to be spending at a hotel which allows that kind of thing in the lobby. And that dim-witted manager thinks dinner solves the problem. If she had half a brain, she’d have offered a discount.” Jennifer paused, smacking her gum against lips too lush. “Come to think of it, you should demand a refund, at least a partial one.”

He dropped his arm from her shoulder as Jennifer pushed the call button. It was more along the lines of eight hundred something a night, but she didn’t need to know that. “I’m not going to do that, Jenn. It wasn’t that big of a deal. I think the manager was very kind about it.” A bit extreme, that was Jenn’s way. It made her a good salesperson, one of his best. But in the six months they’d been seeing each other outside of work, her way had been grating on his nerves.

The dating thing wasn’t working very well between them, but he knew from the beginning it probably wouldn’t. The dating thing didn’t go well no matter who he was with.

He glanced over his shoulder again, but Shannon had disappeared. He reached to rub the back of his head, trying to appear casual. Like he wasn’t looking for her, and hadn’t known she’d be here.