Matter of Choice Page 14

  One of the songs she and Triston had danced to hummed through her lips as Shannon collected the final petal and dropped it into a bowl in the kitchen, not ready to throw the collection in the garbage, and she twirled into the bedroom. Elation felt wonderful.

  After a quick shower, she stood before the closet, struggling to focus on the day ahead, a familiar feeling as of late. She wondered if she needed a vacation. Maybe she and Triston could head up to Niagara for a long weekend once the divorce was finalized. It would be a good eight months or so before the trip could take place, but planning always helped make time move faster, and would give them both something pleasant to plan for during the ugliness of the divorce. She smiled, imagining riding the Maid of the Mist through falling water while Triston’s arms wrapped around her, his breath warm against her ear, beads of moisture dampening the air engulfing them.

  A knock at the door broke through her reservoir. “You can clean the room in a moment, Trisha,” she called out, “Give me about ten minutes.”

  Shannon started pushing past suits as the knock resonated again. Sighing, she grabbed the terrycloth robe off a hanger, wrapped it around herself and tied snugly at the waist. Singing softly, she strolled to the front door.

  Her mouth dropped, hands clinging to the door, when Greg’s face appeared with a bouquet of red roses in hand.

  “Greg? What,” she stumbled with words. She stepped forward, narrowing the gap between the door and the doorjamb. “What are you doing here?”

  His glossy ebony hair, combed back and clean, looked nicer than it had in months, his clothing absent of the stench of liquor. His fresh pressed suit looked smart and eager. He looked like Shannon remembered from before the accident. Handsome, successful. Like the man she fell in love with and married.

  “Shannon. I remember. I remember you and I remember our marriage. I … I know I’ve done some things that haven’t been fair, I don’t remember a lot of it right now. But, I noticed you aren’t living at home. And I, I want you to come back. I want to work on saving our marriage, if you’ll allow me to.”

  A closed fist hovered in front of her gaping mouth. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. “What do you mean, you remember? Did something happen?”

  He shrugged, standing firm. Greg wasn’t pushing his way in, for which she was grateful, but he wasn’t retreating either. Pride and self-assurance seeped from his every pore. “No, I don’t think so. I woke up this morning and rolled over to hold my wife, and you weren’t there. Then I realized I was in the guest room, and thought maybe we had an argument. When I headed to the master room, the bed was made, your closet looked normal, and mine empty. Then I noticed the suitcases gone, and I figured you were here.” He paused, looking over her shoulder. “Can I come in so we talk?”

  Lips sucked in, she shook her head. “No. I don’t think that would be a good idea. Give me a few minutes and we can go down to my office.”

  He nodded once. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Shannon closed the door and glanced around a room that, less than twelve hours ago, shone with hope and love. Now, it seemed darkened by despair. She shuffled towards the bedroom, stomach aching. Greg was back, and wanted to try to work on the marriage. How could she tell him no?

  Dressing in the first suit her hand reached for, she tied her hair back, and forgot about makeup. Without a glance in the mirror to check appearances, she grabbed her purse and keys. “I owe it to him to see what he has to say,” she muttered as she reached for the door handle. At the very least.

  Greg was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, foot propped up, roses held high against a bicep. “Ready?”

  Shannon nodded. As ready as she could be. Face long and steps short, she led him to the elevator, heart fractured and hurting.

  *

  “You have got to be kidding me, Jennifer. Can’t you handle this?” Triston rubbed hard against his eyebrows, as the other hand pressed the cell phone against an ear.

  “Triston, this is a big deal. If this company signs a contract, it could mean we all get rich.”

  He slumped on the bed and hung his head. “Not rich, Jenn, but I know, I know. I just don’t want to leave right now.”

  “You followed my advice then, and went after her?”

  He sighed. “She needs me here, there’s so much going on.”

  Silence drifted across the line for a minute. “I’m sorry, Triston. They want to meet the owner, and you know you’ve got to handle this. You’ve never left the company hanging before, you’ve built it with your own hands. You can’t shirk this. Besides, it’s right there in New York. You won’t be gone but a day or so. She can live without you for that long, can’t she?”

  “Nice, Jenn. Yes, of course, and I know you’re right.” He sighed. Real life had found him, he couldn’t ignore it. “Okay, I’ll be there. When does the CEO want to meet? And what’s his name?”

  “Not his, hers. Veronica Hemrick. And she’s not the CEO, but close assistant. The meeting is tomorrow at eight in the morning.”

  Triston felt his blood chill as lifted his head, forehead crinkled. “Say again. What’s the name?”

  “You’ve really got it bad, don’t you? Veronica Hemrick.” She drew out each syllable like he was a moron. “Write it down or something.”

  His jaw tightened as a hand brushed over the stubble along his jawline. “Veronica Hemrick.”

  Another silence and then, “Triston, whatever your problem is, get over it.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” His finger punched at the end icon without waiting for a response. Veronica. Where did the cat drag her in from?

  “Nothing like a bit of déjà vu.” He stood and walked out to the living room. Now to explain this one to Shannon.

  *

  With head resting in her palms, eyes closed, Shannon fought to ignore Greg’s eyes boring into her as he silently gauged the reaction. The least of her concerns. Thoughts raced, and clouds darkened her heart. A year ago, six months ago, even two weeks ago, the answer to a myriad of prayers would’ve been staring at her, ready and willing for her to grab the reins and ride the rest of the journey alongside her husband during the final stages of recovery. With a heart breaking, now it was remedying the scars still fresh with the blood a flood of tears cut into her. Everything she had tried to hold to, all the hope of a newly freshened love, came crashing down. She had failed; failed Greg, failed herself, even failed Triston.

  Slowly she lifted her head, looking past the vase of two dozen fully bloomed roses, to her husband. “So, run this by me again, Greg. You, remember, everything now?”

  He shook his head while a grin played on his lips. “No, not everything. But a lot. I remember you’re my wife, that you’ve been there for me, standing by me all this time. I don’t know how much time has passed, but I know I haven’t treated you near well enough.” Shannon dropped her eyes as he continued. “Uh, I talked to Lauren, and she told me of the affair she and I had. I’m so sorry, Shannon. I didn’t realize. Please forgive me.”

  A rush of air whistled through her flaring nostrils. “I don’t know what to say, Greg. I was preparing to file for divorce. I don’t know if I can go backwards now.”

  He rushed forward in his chair, face desperate. “Please don’t throw us away. If I could take it all back, I would. But all I can do is ask for a second chance. Allow me that, I promise I won’t disappoint.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, she stood and made her way to the window, tears streaking her face. “I don’t know Greg. I have to think about this. You have to give me some time, okay?”

  She listened as footsteps narrowing the gap between them, and cringed as Greg’s hands wrapped around the very bruises he left a day ago. Still sore. Still angry. Still remembering. They shouted at her heart at the memory, and she shuddered.

  “I can give you that. Is it okay, while you’re taking the time, that I attempt to prove my sincerity?”

  She shook her head. “Yes. No.” She shrugged out of his grasp and turned wit
h saddened eyes. “I don’t know right now, Greg. Can you please go now? Leave me alone to think?”

  His jaw set firm. “Of course.” He narrowed his eyes, a cold wave washing over Shannon’s being, something there frightening her. “I guess you know where to find me.”

  She nodded and watched as he slid out of the office, then retreated to her desk. Yanking the hair tie from constricted tresses, she laid her head down, hair fanning around her.

  The heart whispered Triston’s name with each beat, each letter punching at her gut until nausea swept over her.

  A finger rubbed the spot where the wedding ring should be. She’d removed it the night before after Triston left, and, as she straightened, she realized the gold metal circle remained upstairs on the coffee table. She’d taken it off because of love for another man, and not her husband. Something inside seared her flesh. Her betrayal was as complete as Greg’s, and he was now asking forgiveness.

  She should be doing the same.

  Sweeping away the tears, she stood, disciplining the nerves still crying out for Triston’s touch. “I can’t do that. I have a responsibility to this marriage.” The whispered words sliced through the betraying thoughts like a chainsaw, and her heart dropped, defeated. She closed her eyes, rubbing them with two fingers as she waited for the pain to pass.

  It didn’t.

  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 news 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, prete
nd 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 freshener 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?”