Matter of Choice Page 8

  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 there 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 herself, 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 ceased 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 blotches, 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 downward 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 blac
k 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 first 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 the 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.

  Chapter Twelve

  Shannon knocked on room 205, her heart fluttering in heaving gasps at the sound of deadened footsteps behind the wood. A hand floated up and rested on top of her breasts, hoping to quiet the rumbling within. She wasn’t sure what she was doing. She knew what she didn’t want, that was easy. But what did she want? She didn’t have time to process before Triston answered the door in ragged shorts and a tank undershirt proudly displaying curved biceps and defined chest.

  The blank sheet of the unknown brightened into a thick smile as he opened the door to see her standing before him. “I wasn’t expecting this.” His brows furrowed. “Are you okay?”

  Shannon struggled to keep focus off his arms and on his face as she nodded. Rich chartreuse irises captured her, muscles forgotten, and she stumbled over the words. “I, I wasn’t expecting this either. I don’t really know if I’m okay or not.” She looked down at the patterned carpeting, struggling to regain her focus. “I didn’t really want to be alone, and didn’t have anywhere else to go. I hope you don’t mind.”

  So much for not coming off like a lovesick teenager.

  If he noticed her nerves, he was good enough not to react. “Why would I mind?” he stepped aside, motioning to the room behind him. “Come in.”

  She stood in the doorway for a moment, eyes straying again across the fitness of his body, and shook her head. “No. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you mind if we just go for a walk outside?”

  He studied her for a moment and blinked slowly, and Shannon wondered what he was thinking.

  “Of course I don’t. Just give me a minute.”

  She nodded, and backed away from the door as he closed it. Pacing up and down the hall, she paused at a side table to smell the fresh Peruvian lilies set on top. She didn’t remember him looking like that in high school, but that was then, as kids. He had taken care of himself. She shook her head as she muttered, “Stop it Shannon. Stop thinking of him like that. And calm your nerves. No reason for them. There are no expectations, no plans. Just relax.”

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  She spun around, wondering if he heard the foolish rant. No traces of amusement settled around his mouth, and her body sighed with relief. “You didn’t. I’m sorry to bother you. Just wasn’t sure …”

  He stopped her, brushing strands of hair away from her cheek. “You never have to apologize to me for anything.” Triston smiled. “You lead the way.”

  “I was thinking about heading to the shores. There’s a nice little path cut through some trees on the west side of the property leading across the front lawn and drive to the rocks above the river. It’s quiet there, we won’t be disturbed.”

  “Or be seen.” Triston laughed. “That sounds nice. I’d love to see it.”

  Shannon smiled ruefully. “Thanks for understanding.”

  “Shy, it doesn’t matter to me where we go. I’m just happy to spend time with you again.”

  She looked back at him. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

  He leaned forward, causing her heart to stampede behind her breasts, and whispered into her shoulder, “I’m not going to stop saying things like that.”

  Shannon held her breath as he backed away with a satisfied grin. “Shall we go?”

  She nodded, unable to speak. He was sure to have sensed the sparks nipping at her senses and clouding thoughts. She quickened her pace, hoping distance between them, even mere steps, would return her to the realm of rational th
ought.

  They walked in silence as Shannon led him past the elevator towards the employee only stairwell which flanked the back of the hotel. The beauty and grandeur of the Grande was left behind, the poured concrete and metal shaft industrialized for practicality and emergencies. No one used the stairwell, the chances of running into anyone almost nonexistent. Now it was her sneaking around, she thought sourly with the first step, heels clicking against the metal. She swallowed against doubt. The afternoon graduated past violated vows.

  The thumping of Triston’s heavier steps eased beside her, and he reached out and took her hand. She looked up at him, ready to pull away, but the grip only constricted. “No one sees us, Shy, and on these steps, in those shoes,” he nodded down at the two inch stilts she walked in, “you’d fall much too easily. I’ll let go before we step back into public.”

  As if in confirmation, a heel turned on one of the metal grooves and she stumbled forward, stopped only by a hand pulling her up short, his body jutting forward.

  Cheeks reddened as she righted herself, breath quickened. Their faces inches apart, bodies pressed together. A desert sprung, dry and parched, within her mouth and every nerve tingled against the biceps as he steadied her.

  Pressing her palms against his chest, eyes focused on his mouth. A slow smile tickled her lips. “Thank you.”

  *

  Outside, they walked shoulder to shoulder, Triston’s hands tucked in his pockets as Shannon’s gaze remained locked ahead. They followed the trail into the cluster of trees, and the path, well-defined by mulch and solar lights, twisted away from the hotel to the lake. The early spring greens were bright and engulfing, contrasted against the pale blue of a cloudless sky and browns of standing and fallen wood.