The Broken Sister (Sister #6) (24 page)

She shrugged. “I can try. But I don’t react the way you think I should, Mom. I don’t think you understand the full extent of that.”

Tracy’s head tilted. “There is no right reaction to hurt or trauma or pain or one’s father abandoning them. I love you. I love you more than anything in my life. And I know you love me that much too. I know I handled things wrong, but all I can tell you is I’ve always done my best. It wasn’t enough to fill the hole Micah left. But I want to fill it now. You and me. Mother and daughter. I don’t want Tristan to be the only one you can talk to.” She glanced at Tristan with a small nod. “But I am glad you are talking to someone. Because I know how rare that is.”

“I can try, Mom. But you have to understand, I don’t always know how I feel or how to say it and I sometimes won’t say it for a long time after. But I will try.”

Her mom hugged her tightly and Kylie clung back just as hard.

She felt her mom lift her chin and rest it on her head, and she suspected her mom mouthed something, perhaps thanks to Tristan.

She turned her head to the side, still clinging to her mom, and smiled and mouthed thanks to Tristan too.

Ally, however? She didn’t come back out and Kylie left her mom’s with her sister furious, and with plans to see her dad.

TRISTAN WORKED A LOT. But she didn’t care much. Until halfway through studying for a test in her Social Stratification class, when he called her one afternoon.

“Is there a pile of papers on the bar?”

She glanced around the bar while she muttered, “Hey to you too, lover. And yes, there is.”

His sigh was deep and she regretted ribbing him. Even his sigh sounded weary and tired. “Hey, sorry. I can’t find something. My boss is riding my ass about it and I couldn’t remember if it was home or here. I guess I took it home.”

“Do you need it?”

“I’ll just have to do it tonight.”

“You’ll be late?”

“Eight-ish.” He then paused and when he spoke his tone was noticeably warmer. “See you then?”

“Yes.”

She curled her legs up but her reviewing wasn’t holding her interest. Getting up to stretch, she wandered over to his bar. The papers were in a file. She opened them briefly. The Tamasy Industries logo still startled her. What were the chances? Of all places, of all names… that Tristan worked there. But then again, it was a large employer in the area. Still, the name Tamasy made her stomach clench each time it was mentioned or she casually observed their logo. She picked up the file. No reason she couldn’t take it to him. She didn’t think he’d care if she showed up. The address was in their logo and she’d never even seen where he worked. Or where his family lived… or even met a single one of them… or a lot of things. He was pretty arms-length about his family and his life outside of their relationship. She tried to respect that, considering her own family dramas. But he seemed far removed from his own family, cold and formal about them when he did mention them. So she didn’t see any reason to hurry along their association. But work? He spent all his time there. Shouldn’t she know something about that?

She tucked her feet into her black flats and threw a leather coat over her. She had to lift her ponytail out of being trapped under its weight. She quickly took the city bus and walked the few blocks until she was before the proper building. It was a dozen stories high. It looked neat out front, with flag poles and a little fountain spraying water up out of a contorted piece of metal and into a pond. She gathered the metal was fabricated by Tamasy Industries. She entered and found the proper suite number for the Tamasy Industries corporate offices. She steeled her back.

Tamasy again. She could face the name. Tommy didn’t even work. He was in college, there was no chance, zilch, he’d be there, now, today, on this miscellaneous day at three forty-five on a Tuesday in February. She gave herself the silent “Atta-girl” pep talk to turn and force herself to get on the elevator. This was about Tristan… not Tommy.

The elevator dinged and she was in the entryway of a large, airy, glass-dominated foyer. She glanced at the board in front of her and went to the left towards the suite number of Tamasy Industries. She entered the large reception room that was ceiling to floor windows towards the downtown. It was all natural light and welcoming. She breathed out. See? No spooky rapists or dark trolls waiting for her. She almost laughed at herself. Maybe it was good she was facing this place. This name. She needed to make peace with where he worked if she hoped for their relationship to continue to deepen and strengthen. He was employed here. It was very important to him and she didn’t want to put him in the position to choose just because she hated, cringed, resented hearing the name Tamasy.

The receptionist was a man and he motioned her forward as he spoke on the phone. When he was finished he glanced at her with a polite smile. She held up her file with the logo on it. “My boyfriend left this at home. I was delivering it to him.”

“Who’s your boyfriend?”

“Tristan—”

“Seriously! I had no idea he had a girlfriend! Never known him to… Sorry, I shouldn’t gossip like that. It’s just… Tristan!” The man gave her a conspiratorial smile and his voice rose three octaves every time he said Tristan.

She grinned back, taken in by the man’s charm. “It’s okay. I gather he works more than he ever dated.”

“That he does. So you are a surprise. Anyway, down this hallway, last door on the left. You won’t miss it. I’ll tell him you’re here.”

She nodded as he picked up the phone and she darted down the hallway, mentally shaking her head at herself over her nerves in coming here. See? No big deal. Tommy was nothing to this place. He—

There was Tristan. Relief flooded through her. The name Tamasy couldn’t hurt her if Tristan was right there before her. He’d jerked his office door open and now stood there staring at her, unsmiling, his jaw locked and almost glaring at her. She faltered. Shit. He looked… freaking mad. She had never made him mad before. Apparently, work was a girlfriend-free zone? Or… well, fuck. The secretary man was laughing about Tristan having a girlfriend. And it being her? Was Tristan embarrassed by her presence here? She’d actually believed all his positive cheerleading crap the last few months that he’d showered over her. He’d never once acted embarrassed by her. But then, had he ever rushed to include her in his life? His real life? Hell no.

Maybe she had misread everything between them.

He motioned her forward. She had stopped startled by his adamant glare and the way he’d jerked open his door. Spurred into action, she passed by him and he shut the door firmly.

She shuffled the folder in her hands. He had never acted like this with her before. She was unsure what to do with Tristan being cold and kind of off-putting to her. “I was done studying and I thought I’d bring you that folder you called about.” Her voice faded off, all wimpy and as insecure-sounding as she felt.

His shoulders visibly dropped. He took it from her and walked to his desk and deposited it.

She bit her lip and stared at the rigid set of his back. “Tristan? Is something wrong? Am I interrupting something? A meeting perhaps? I can see myself out. I won’t stay.”

He was quiet and still didn’t look her way. She took a step back. “I’m not exactly girlfriend of an upcoming business manager’s material, am I?”

His entire body seemed to sag as he leaned on his hands over his desk. Finally he turned towards her and the scowl was gone. “Don’t go. I was just surprised. I wasn’t sure who he meant. He was babbling there was a girl here and I was…”

“Embarrassed. I shouldn’t have told the guy out there you were my boyfriend.”

“I’m not embarrassed. Just ignore me. I was stressed out. Not about you being here, just in general.”

It didn’t totally ring true, but she wasn’t sure what she could accuse him of. She glanced around. His office wasn’t huge, but it was luxurious. It had dark-paneled walls and a window that let in lots of light. Potted plants were almost a fake-looking green in the corner. A unit of shelving displayed hardbound books and trinkets. His desk was neat and crowded. His computer screensaver blinked. He seemed to notice it and walked over and clicked the screen off so it was dark. Two chairs faced his desk.

“Impressive, Mr. Aderly.”

He glanced up. Something seemed to have startled him about her teasing words. “What is?”

“The office. You’re more than a cubicle worker here. I mean, wow. Look at this place.” She slowly spun in a circle.

“Yes, more than a cubicle. Thank you, Kylie, for the file.” His tone was quiet as his eyes tracked her as she lingered around the room, running her hands over the books and stopping before the window.

He sat on the edge of his desk and finally a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “You like it?”

“I do. Why have you not bragged about it to me?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t seem all that worthy of bragging of. Just my office.”

“Who’s your boss then?”

His mouth tightened and creases appeared at the corners of his mouth. But he kept his gaze direct on hers. She was unsettled by the scrutiny. “Ellis Tamasy.”

She faltered in surprise. “The… the namesake of the place?”

“The one and only. He’s been at it for forty years.”

“I didn’t realize you worked directly under him.”

“Why? Does that mean something to you?”

“No. No, just didn’t know you were so far up the corporate ladder.”

“Far enough,” he answered, his tone mild, but his scrutiny was anything but. She walked closer to him and stopped. He was slouched on his desk as if all was casual, but there was a strain around his mouth and eyes that didn’t match his body language. It was almost like he was
trying
to act relaxed and at ease. She had no idea what she was missing. Obviously, Tristan didn’t mix his personal and business life. She’d figured that out from the start by his lack of integrating her into any of it. But this was a little much.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” she finally said after an awkward silence. She was flustered by it. Even in the beginning when she was confused by his attention and what he wanted from her and was totally intimidated with him, she didn’t feel awkward like this. Like she was interrupting him. A nuisance and an embarrassment.

He caught her upper arm as she attempted to slide past him. He brought her closer to him. His mouth nuzzled at her ear. “I’m not embarrassed by you. And thank you, you flatter me by being impressed with where I am and what I do.”

She looked up at him. “You made me feel weird.”

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have. I keep my personal life and feelings completely neutral here. I have trouble flipping it off. Maybe that’s why I don’t mix the two.”

She let his mouth keep kissing at her neck and hairline as goosebumps broke out over her skin. “Then again, maybe I should,” he murmured as she turned in his embrace and his arms slid around her as he stood up and his mouth full-on came down over hers. He pushed her back against his desk and quickly, aggressively, the kiss went from a mild greeting to hot and very personal.

“You are a welcome distraction.” His hand came down to her chest and brushed over her breast, which beaded under his touch and stare. She closed her eyes and pushed towards the heat of his fingertips. He leaned down and lifted her shirt up, laying her back, and his warm breath touched her with just her bra between them. That quick, his other hand was on her bare stomach and sliding lower. He went under her leggings and over her panties before his fingers found the edge and dipped inside. She gasped in shock. What was he
doing?
They were at his work! He pressed into her as he kissed her again. She opened her eyes, however, when she heard voices.

She pushed against him. “People are out there,” she whispered.

“It’s middle of the day. Of course there are. No one will enter without my permission.”

She rolled her eyes at his macho answer and pushed at his shoulder. “So? I don’t do stuff like this during the day
in an office
.”

He slowly slid his hand from her underpants and let it rest more innocently on the tops of her thigh, still against her bare skin. He grinned finally, his hair falling over his forehead where he was looking down at her. He kissed her lips and then smiled a boyish smile. “You are so not the bad girl I first thought I was getting to date.”

She glared up at him. “You sound disappointed!”

“Well, you could be a little more… adventurous.”

Her mouth popped open. He made her sound like a prude! No one had ever accused her of not being sexual enough or public enough about it. She pushed at him. He sighed and removed his hands. “I didn’t come here for this,” she said.

“I know. But I haven’t ever done it in here before.”

“Well, it’s not like you should have or will start to now. There is the file. I hope it helps with things.”

“It does. I don’t have to work after I get home.”

“All right then. I’m going to go get myself some dinner and finish my homework. So I’ll see later.”

“Later. You can take the stairs that are off to the left. They’re quicker than the elevator.”

“Okay.”

“Have fun with your homework.”

“Have fun working,” she chirped with a smirk and raise of her eyebrows. She adjusted her coat and opened the door. She went toward the back staircase and found it completely empty. It avoided the main part of his company and entered the building lobby off on the side. She quickly exited and went home. Her mom called. She’d been calling a lot more lately and Kylie told her all about Tristan’s more successful position in Tamasy Industries than Kylie first understood.

“That guy. He sure keeps things close to his vest, huh?”

“Maybe he’s just humble. I mean, he definitely isn’t a braggart. Besides, if he was that way he’d have a lot flashier and better girlfriend than me.”

Tracy sighed. “He looks at you in a such way that I don’t think you need to worry about being anything but who you are with him. I worried at first. He was so much older, maybe he’d end up hurting you, but as I see it now, he’s more in danger of getting hurt.”

Kylie mentally shied away from her mom’s assessment. As if she ever had more power in any relationship than the other person. “I honestly don’t know what he gets from me.”

“Lots it seems, by the amount of time he spends with you.”

“I don’t get it. Still. After all these months.”