Matter of Choice (8 page)

Convenient
. Such a strange way to think of his amnesia. It couldn’t be convenient for him, to be lost in his own mind. She wrapped her arms around herself. So why did she think of it like that? Like an easy way for him to do whatever he wanted. It couldn’t be easy to live like that. A torment, she guessed. Her pain must pale in comparison.

With a heavy sigh, she returned to her desk, and caught glimpse of the time log report. Her shoulders sagged. She’d completely forgotten to ask Lauren if she knew any reason for the unusual rec
ordings logged by her computer.

She settled at the desk, picked up the report and placed it on the top left corner so she wouldn’t forget it next time. Right now, she needed to focus on the banquet. Check with the events team, make sure rooms were being reserved, get in touch with Megan to ensure all the minute details were being attended to. Time to get her head back in the game.

Chapter Ten

Triston sat on the bed, watching TV and eating pizza. The room was quiet, except for the voices from the mobster movie, and he was enjoying peace. Dropping Jennifer at the airport had gone well. They hugged goodbye like casual friends, brother and sister, or distant cousins, then she disappeared into the security checkpoint lines, and he drove the two and a half hours north, stopped at one of the mom and pop pizzerias nearby and then settled in. As Triston shoved the final corner of the small meat lovers’ deep dish into his mouth, his eyes narrowed. Robert De Niro was on the screen, all puffed up to resemble Al Capone, and bashing some guy’s head in with a baseball bat. He’d seen the movie a hundred times, but it was still one of his favorites. He just
couldn’t get into it this time.

Jennifer’s words kept repeating themselves in his mind.
If she’s the one, you need to go after her. Stop playing around
.

He grunted and took a swig from the Coke Cola can, then stopped.
If she’s the one …

It was ridiculous to think Shannon was the one for him. Married, rich, happy owner of a high end hotel it had taken a year of savings to pay for a week of accommodations. But he did take that money and spend it, pa
rtially in hopes of seeing her.

Triston rolled his eyes and turned up the volume a little. He was
not
going to chase after some married woman.

Except the marriage was a farce. There was something terribly wrong with the whole “husband has amnesia” thing, he was sure of it. If her husband couldn’t remember he was married to a fabulous woman like Shannon, he had bigger problems
than a hard knock to the head.

Triston clicked off the TV and stood, lacing his fingers across the back of his head as he paced the bedroom floor. Shannon. She was perfect in high school. Dedicated, loyal, gave him everything she had to give. He was madly in love with her then. Crazy in love. Even when all the guys poked and teased him about being whipped, he didn’t care. It was all about her, until that nutty thing with the other girl. Loused everything
up because of teenage hormones.

And hadn’t had a serious relationship since.

Triston stopped cold in the center of the room, mouth hanging open like he’d just been shocked by a stun gun.

Not one serious relationship with any other woman because he’d never fallen in love with anyone after Shannon. No connection. No playful banter, no sense of humor. Everything he was with Shannon, he couldn’t be with anyone else. Whatever was good about him as a man, and a partner, she brought out in him. She did then, and she was again, even n
ow when they talked downstairs.

No wo
nder apologizing wasn’t enough.

Jennifer was rig
ht. He couldn’t just walk away.

He crossed the hotel room floors and snatched the card key from the coun
tertop like a man on a mission.

Because he was.

*

Shannon knocked once again on the Lauren’s office door, but didn’t wait for a response. She turned the knob and pushed, then froze. Her mouth fell open, her heart stopping its rhythm in wrenching pain. A gasp, a scream, all the sounds she wanted to make woul
dn’t come out.

The only thing left was the consuming pain, hot and heavy in her chest,
burning like a thousand fires.

Greg stood quickly, buckling his pants as he locked eyes with his wife. No apologies, no greetings, just a smirking smile. He marched towards her, without words, shoulder brushing hard ag
ainst hers as he left the room.

Shannon’s eyes remained locked on Lauren as her friend scrambled to pull her skirt down with one hand, while wrestling with her shirt’s buttons with the other. There was no smile, no pride. Her face was a haun
ting shade of remorse and pity.

A chill ran up Shannon’s spine, and she stepped forward,
shards darting from her eyes.

Lauren reached a trembling hand out. “Shannon, I …”

Shannon held her palms out, shaking her head in miniscule tremors, and backed out of the room, closing the door in silence. She stood still, shoulders rising up and down in silent sobs. A hand reached to cover her lips. No more excuses. Not one of them would measure up or dismiss all she just saw. No screaming or stomping feet, or throwing things would make it any better.

She hurried from the offices, leaving the shadow of the scene of her husband and the woman she considered her closest friend. The years of trying not to see, and fighting to ignore. The love for man who no longer loved or cared about her. The betrayal of a friend who should have known better. Shannon hurried away from it all, her heels clicking against the marble floors as they left the carpeting of the hallway. Racing past a housekeeper who called her name, the front desk with one of the Senators she had come to know, past the restaurant and the lounge, out to the back gardens where the
re was only quiet and solitude.

Shannon stood overlooking the Hudson, tears flowing like the river below her, the gut-wrenching hollows within twisting and turning into tight knots. She wrapped her arms around her
self, and stared blankly ahead.

Thoughts ricocheted, fighting to find
an anchor within the emptiness.

Her
husband … and her best friend.

Yet another affair, but with her best friend. She dismissed all of his other transgressions as best she could, but this one was different. She knew the woman, and the woman knew
her. Pretended to be a friend.

And was screwing her husband.

“Shannon?”

She heard Triston behind her but couldn’t bring herself to turn. “Go away, Triston. Leave me alone!” she growled in a low voice, hoping it was enough to choke out the sound of her sobs.

He stepped closer, hands rested on her shoulders as he gently turned her around. With a finger curled, a knuckle slipped underneath her chin and pulled it upward to meet his eyes. “What happened?”

Yanking her head away, Shannon only glared with the culmination of all the anger boiling within. “Take your hands off me and for once, just leave me alone!”

“No. I’m sorry, but I’m not going anywhere.”

He drew her into his arms, even as she pushed against him and fought the embrace with fumbling punches. The embrace tightened, and then tightened again, until she gave in and sobbed into his shirt. His arms remained closed as Triston stroked her hair, kissed her forehead with brushing lips, waited until the crying c
eased and she lifted her head.

“I got your shirt all wet,” she muttered, wiping away the remaining trails of tears from her flushed cheeks.  She stared at the navy cotton darkened by damp blo
tches, unable to meet his eyes.

“It’s a shirt, Shannon, with water and salt on it. What happened?”

She pushed him gently away, hanging her head. “It was just awful. Unbelievable. I never …”

He pushed the fallen hair away from a face which appeared ravaged, beaten, tired, and tucked the strands behind her ears. His urge to beat the crap out of someone boiled. “Just tell me.”

“It was Greg again. I’m sure you guessed that. But Lauren … I never saw it coming. Never thought she’d do that to me.”

He tucked his hands in his jean pockets. “I figured it had something to do with him again. Who’s Lauren?”

“My housekeeping manager. My closest friend. Or I thought she was my closest friend. I walked in on them. The scene, it was …” She blinked, forehead wrinkled. “You know, Greg, I expect it. Sort of. He has an excuse. But Lauren, I don’t understand.”

Triston’s jaw tightened. “How could you stay, Shannon? It doesn’t make sense to me. You deserve better than this. Now there’s someone standing before you, yearning with all his heart to know you again, romance you like you’ve never been romanced, so you might just fall back in love with him, and you continue to waste your time sitting with this schmuck.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about, Triston? Don’t do this. I’m married.”

Triston laughed. “And what a marriage. The man cheats on you every other night, and then comes home and pretends it’s okay.”

She glared at him, an eruption of suppressed anger simmering in the back of her throat. “Greg doesn’t understand what he’s doing. It’s been hard on him.”

“Oh yes, I can see that. The guy has free reign to do whatever he wants and you wait at home with slippers in hand while he’s doing it.”

“But he doesn’t know who I am! You don’t seem to understand that!”

“What is there to understand? I’m a man, I’m looking at you. I see
you
. If I were him, knowing you were waiting for me, wanting me, saying you were my wife and I had free passage, I’d be taking advantage of it every night, every morning. Every chance I had.”

“Don’t be crude, Triston!”

“I’m not being crude, Shy, I’m being honest.”

Her heart leapt at the mention of the nickname he’d had for her since they starting dating twenty years earlier. She hated how easily it responded. “Don’t call me that,” she hissed.

“What? Shy? That’s always been your name to me, and always will be.” He stepped forward and grabbed her shoulders, tight enough she couldn’t wiggle free, soft enough not to hurt her. “Let me tell you how it is, sweetie. The amnesia is no excuse. If it were me, I’d never leave your side, and make sure you never left mine. Forget you? Naw. I’d forget work, never go into the office again. Make you breakfast in bed, cover the house with rose petals, take you out every night to show off just how lucky I was to have you at my side.

“You’re throwing your life away for someone who doesn’t want you, Shy. Wrapping yourself in this old hotel, doing a great job pretending it’s enough for you. You know what? We both know better. We both know how passionate you are, and the passion you yearn for in return. I know you don’t want to live being a shadow of who you were.”

Shannon’s head dropped back, eyes closed, willing the ringing in her ears to pass. The spinning top in her mind slowly stilled, and she looked at the man before her. “Triston, you don’t know anything about me, and I don’t know you. It’s been a very long time. You have no clue about what I want or don’t want.”

He drew a step closer, eyebrows flickering upwards as a playful smile toyed with his lips. “Don’t I? You want to challenge me like that?”

She stepped backwards. “Please just stop, Triston.”

“Then get to know me again, Shy. Allow me the time to get to know you. If it’s a waste, it will be the best waste of time I have ever spent.”

She turned her back to him, and all the nicknames, games and proclamations. Ridiculous, and she was not in the mood for ridiculous. “No, go away. Leave me alone.”

“I’ll leave you alone for now. For now, understand? But I won’t go away. Because I’ll be here when you need me, whenever it is.” He kissed the top of her head and headed back to the hotel.

Shannon tilted her head backwards, closed her eyes, listening for the distant flow of the water below her, low, barely audible. Usually it calmed her, the soothing pulses of river tides moving in their timeless dance. But now, the thoughts couldn’t lock onto the current’s melody.

Maybe Triston was right. Maybe there wasn’t anything left in her marriage to save. Maybe all that was left was to leave Greg, leave all of it, behind. Maybe.

She’d figure it out later.

Right now, she had someone to fire.

Chapter Eleven

Shannon marched towards Lauren’s office with head high, despite the atomic bomb in her stomach. Her heart interrogated her along the way: what if Greg was in there again? What if something was going on? What if he wasn’t? What if Lauren wasn’t there? A Spanish inquisition of nagging doubts. Her jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, determination expelling the hesitation. No more playing doormat. It no longer mattered what anyone was doing. Every thought dissipated as she realized, she no longer cared.

She pushed the handle downwa
rd and stormed into the office.

The contemporary room of clean lines with black and whites highlighted by an occasional royal blue was the same as it always had been. Clean, organized, and personalized as Shannon had allowed Lauren decorate. The design team for the hotel came in, met with Lauren and designed the office to her every taste. Shannon knew, as she glared into the space and found Lauren sitting at the black desk, it would be renovated as soon as the team could pay the hotel another visit. There would be no remnants of Lauren, their friendship, or the image of her and Greg together. But f
irst things first.

Lauren lifted her head to meet Shannon with the same terrified look a child gave a parent when it was in trouble. Tears stained her cheeks, hair uncharacteristically disheveled. She swallowed hard and pushed forward in the chair. “I thought you’d come back. Shannon, I’m so sorry. It’s never happened before. It won’t happen again.”

“Save it, Lauren.” She stopped behind the guest chair, curling her fingers over the back rest. “Greg, I get. I try to understand, or at the very least, be patient. But you know. You knew what you were doing, you know me. We’ve done everything two friends do together. Spent holidays and birthdays with one another’s families, gone on vacations together, shopping days, spa days –"

Lauren closed her eyes, fresh tears springing from th
e corners. “I know. I know, but–"

“I have been there for you with every boyfriend, even Matt and all of his on again, off again crap. You came to the hospital waiting room the night of the accident; let me cry on your shoulder as the doctor told us Greg was in ICU. Came up every day with meals and distraction. More than anyone, you know the situation with my marriage.” Shannon’s eyes spit venom, her voice spiraling into higher octaves. “You were supposed to be my best friend.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I don’t know what I was thinking or what I was doing. I’m so sorry.”

Shannon shook her head. “No. Don’t ask me to forgive you, and stop crying those phony tears. You don’t have a right to ask my forgiveness, or to feel sorry for yourself.” She rounded the chair and leaned on the desk, palms down, inches from Lauren’s wide-eyed face. “And I’m not here now as your friend, because we are no longer friends. I am your boss. I want your personal items packed and I want you out of this office in thirty minutes. If I need to, I will have security escort you out the building.”

Lauren stood, eyes frantic. “You can’t fire me for this.”

Shannon crossed her arms. “I can fire you for any reason at all, or no reason at all. That is my right as your employer. But in this case, I’m firing you because you were on the clock while you were screwing around with my husband.” She reached over to the computer, accessing the network to log into her username, and began typing in the password. “Shall I pull up the time reports? I came here earlier because I thought it was a computer error.”

Lauren blinked as she watched the computer light up to Shannon’s desktop, but remained silent.

Shannon moved the mouse to the Excel spreadsheets, and clicked. “But when I walked in on you and Greg, I realized it wasn’t. You’ve been here late at night fraternizing with my husband. I don’t know how long this has been going on, but it’s more than just a one time thing, isn’t it?”

Lauren’s pale face grimaced, and a trembling hand reached out, hovering over Shannon’s fingers. “Stop. That’s not necessary. You don’t have to show me.”

“Isn’t it?”

Her friend shrugged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d ever see it. I mean, with all Greg does, I never thought you’d even see one more. The time report thing … you never would have known if you hadn’t walked in on us. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I just couldn’t turn him down.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that like you mean it.” Shannon stood. “If you were half as sorry, you wouldn’t have let it happen. You’re not sorry. You just wish you hadn’t gotten caught.” She traipsed across the room and swung open the door, then turned to look back at her friend. Lauren’s arms hung lifelessly, her face defeated. “Get out of my hotel. Get out of my sight.” Shannon turned on her heel
and stomped out of the office.

Not one more apology. She wanted to smile as she walked away, but she couldn’t. This wasn’t a win. It was all lies. All of it. Her whole life. Brought now into her one sanctuary, ripping apart the friendship with a
woman she loved like a sister.

All because of her marriage.

She pinched her nose, realization slamming through a wearied mind. How could she’d been so stupid? The bracelet, the nerves when she’d returned it back to Lauren. The jewelry wasn’t lost at dinner. Shannon’s body convulsed into shivers. The affair had found its way into her home. Best friend and husband.

How lovely for them.

Maybe Triston was right.

Maybe she should leave.