too.”
“Yeah, they’ve only got two catch phrases ‘Super!’ or ‘Tres bien!’ I need them to be more firm: more ‘ non non !’ and less ‘ oui ’.”
Tristan sniggers at my terrible attempt at French.
“Don’t stop her spending extra. At the end of the day the client’s needs come first.”
“Yeah I know but $5000 just for imported flowers? Come on?” I scoff. “Anyway other this event becoming bigger than Ben Hur, everything is coming along.”
“I know I can trust you.” Suddenly Tristan walks closer to me and I turn to look at him.
“What?”
“I wish I could have helped you out with the wedding more. I was looking forward to working with you.”
I breathe inwardly at the way he said that. Not like a manager, and definitely not like a friend either.
“Tristan—”
“Tristan!”
My stomach sinks at the sound of that nasally voice, again. It can’t be, surely it can’t be.
“Fuck, will she ever leave me alone?” Tristan mutters to himself. Odd choice of words, I choose to ignore his comment.
I turn around to see Victoria standing down the street. Looking very chic in a pinstripe jumpsuit and oversized hat, she sees me and glares at me derisively. She really should learn to be more subtle. Strutting towards us in her stilettos, she stares me down as she stands next to Tristan.
“What is she doing here?” She asks, her voice ever so shrill. Wow, she just spoke about me as if I am not standing right in front of her.
“ She is just leaving,” I narrow my eyes slightly at her and start walking away but Tristan grabs my arm. My heart races at his touch, again. Dammit, why must I keep reacting like that? Dammit, why does it hurt so much to see him with another woman?
Tristan looks at me, his blazing stare is so heated it makes my face feel warm.
“It’s not what you think it looks like.”
Leaning in to stare back at him, I try to avoid looking dejected. Because that’s how I feel right now.
“I don’t care what it looks like, you can do what you want, alright?”
“I wanted to go for another walk with you.”
“What are you two talking about?” Victoria whines. “Hurry up, I have to go back to Galeries Lafayette to pick up my custom made dress for the wedding.”
That’s right, little Miss Brat is going to the wedding where she will no doubt be hanging off Tristan’s arm. Hurray!
Victoria cocks up her head at me, looking insufferably smug. “Oh yeah, I’m coming to the wedding as his date.”
My eyes widen and I pull myself from his grip. I can’t stand the thought of them hanging out in Paris, and to think that I will be forced to see her at the wedding is irritating beyond belief.
“You are not coming as my date,” Tristan says dryly. “You were already invited to the wedding.”
She huffs loudly. “Same thing. Come on, are we going or what?”
“I am.” I walk away from him and her without saying anything.
“Lacey, don’t go—”
“I have to go and do some work. Not all of us have time to take girls shopping,” I spit out.
“Don’t be like this.” He walks closer to me and leans in. “I want to see you.”
“Well, I can’t with her there.”
Tristan’s eyes flare momentarily in surprise. “Are you…jealous of me and—?”
“I don’t have time to argue with you now. Bye, au revoir ,” I mutter and turn around.
All I want to do can do is walk straight. And fast.
♦
It’s almost crunch time! Brushing aside the fact that Marie and Alain did not want a rehearsal that made me want to reach for a paper bag and hyperventilate, by all accounts everything appear to be in place for the first day of celebrations tomorrow. Everything is set to go for the first day, for the family-only ceremony and dinner reception on at Chateau de Riviera, a forty minute drive from Paris. All the arrangements have been made with the chateau: all the food, decorations and programs have all been set. In terms of transportation, Gabe and I
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley