If there had ever been a time when I’d wanted to learn how to do magic, it would’ve been about now.
“I, uh, C-Calder brought us here,” I stammered, wishing I could disappear.
Tristan turned, his face beaming. “They’re my special guests. Did you enjoy the show?”
“Yes, it was great.” My mouth went dry under Val’s glare.
“This is not how we do things, Tristan,” she warned.
Tristan looked at Zac as if expecting him to say something. Zac shifted, looking at me nervously. It was unsettling to watch someone as huge as Zac looking like he was afraid of me. He was so big, he could flex his biceps and easily brag he had the biggest guns in the room.
“We started a new process tonight with our fans,” Zac explained to Val. “Tristan thought it would be a good idea for fans to see us behind the scenes. You know, the real us.” He then turned to me with an apologetic look. “It’s taking some of us time to get used to it.”
He was lying. Badly.
“Whatever.” Val rolled her eyes and headed to her dressing room. The door slammed shut behind her with a loud bang that rang in my ears.
A couple of the guards laughed, catching my attention. Jo was getting into fighter mode by taking off her earrings and pulling her hair up in a ponytail.
“Excuse me, I need to—”
Oh crap! Jo was taking off her heels too. I jumped to my feet, not bothering with an explanation.
“No, please stay,” Tristan said, his eyes darting to Zac again.
“I’ll take care of your friend.” Zac hesitated, looking at Tristan with a worried expression on his face.
Tristan’s eyes flicked to the screen. “It’s not what you think. It’ll be fine.”
“I hope you’re right.”
It was obvious Zac and Tristan weren’t talking about Jo.
“Sorry about that.” Tristan plopped on the sofa, spreading his arms wide across the back. “Val gets grouchy if she hasn’t met her caffeine quota for the day. Have a seat.” Flashing a sexy grin, his head gestured to the spot next to him.
I looked back at Jo. She was putting her earrings back on and talking with Zac. She’d easily transitioned into full-flirt mode, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. With attention first from Calder, and now Zac, she was having a blast. Talking with Tristan for a few minutes wouldn’t hurt. Besides, I had to set things straight with him.
“I don’t mean to be unappreciative,” I said, sitting on the edge of the sofa as far from him as possible. “But you really should get people’s permission before taking them on stage.”
His brow furrowed. “That’s a first. I’ve never had anyone complain.”
“Well, it’s a problem for me. And I didn’t appreciate you breaking into our hotel room, even if you did cover the cost.”
He blinked, looking baffled. “I didn’t think you’d mind. We didn’t mean to scare you. And as for having you on stage, I thought you’d enjoy being part of the act. Most women do.”
My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe the words coming out of his beautiful mouth. I was in full attack mode now, protecting womankind.
“Enjoy being manhandled in front of hundreds of people? With that stunt on the bridge and then on stage? Do women actually let you do that to them?”
They probably did.
Anything for the chance to jump in his bed.
“I embarrassed you?”
“Yes, you did.”
“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t treat women like that. You shouldn’t treat anyone like that. You can’t just expect people to . . . ”
My words trailed off when I realized he had apologized. I hadn’t expected that. I thought he’d blow me off like most hot guys did when a woman complained about how they were being treated. Instead, he gazed at me intently, taking in every word I said. His cocky grin was gone, and shame filled his blue eyes. It was like he’d taken off a mask, and I was seeing the real him for the first time. He wasn’t an arrogant performer or a sultry magician. He was just Tristan.
“Look, I get it. You have dozens of women clamoring for your attention. And you think that everyone will enjoy what you have to offer.”
“I didn’t know it would upset you,” he said softly.
I wanted to believe he was only agreeing to soften me up. But the way the hurt lingered in his eyes, I couldn’t. He was being honest.
Maybe Jo was right, and Tristan wasn’t like him, the high school quarterback whose name wasn’t worth being uttered.
“I’m sure some girls like being the center of attention on stage. That’s not me. I don’t like it when things happen unexpectedly. I panic. Maybe if I knew ahead of time, I could’ve mentally prepared myself, and I wouldn’t have freaked out so much. Jo’s always telling me to enjoy the moment and life’s little surprises. I try to but—”
“Stop right there.” Dropping his arms to his side, he turned to face me. “Don’t second guess yourself. What I did was wrong. I invaded your privacy. I expected you to enjoy yourself because you were with me. I’d never thought about it like that before. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done it. It’s not fair to you. I can’t believe I did that. I’ve always done that.” His eyes widened as if he was realizing something. “I’m just like him.”
“Like who?”
He frowned, frustration glittering in his eyes. “My old man.”
“Is he a performer too?”
He looked off into the distance, smirking. “You could say that. He’s all about doing what he thinks other people should want.” He shuddered, then turning his attention back to me, he pulled out his phone. “You don’t want to hear about my family drama. What about we go live? You look fantastic by the way. We can do a Q&A here if you want. I can get a release form so you can post it on your blog or other social media accounts.”
He held up the phone, angling it to face us as he posed.
The strained smile, the forced carefree voice, he was trying to put his mask back on. It was as if he wasn’t used to anyone seeing him without it.
He didn’t have to do that.
Not with me.
“No, turn it off.” I placed my hand over his, lowering the phone.
“Okay, no live feed. We can do photos.”
“It’s not that. I want to hear more about your family. You seemed upset.”
“You don’t want to show off a little to your friends? We can print out the photos, and I’ll sign them. You can even sell them if you want. I don’t mind. Lots of girls do that.”
I gazed into his puzzled blue eyes, and it suddenly hit me. Women used him. It happened so often he was actually used to it.
“I don’t want any of that. You were talking about your father.”
“You want to talk about my father?”
“If you want. I’m a good listener.”
Looking surprised, he shifted uncomfortably. The room grew strangely quiet. Back at the tables, everyone except Jo and Gus had stopped eating. It was strange how the guards stared at us. It was as if they could hear our conversation and were waiting on Tristan’s answer.
Tristan moved in closer, his voice low as he spoke. “I’m not sure you’d understand if I told you.”
“Try me. I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried. I have a feeling I can trust you.”
“You can.”
“Well,” he let out a breath, raking his fingers through his hair. “My father’s not an easy man. He’s a . . . CEO of a . . . global company. He uses the people around him. That’s how he, uh, climbed to the top of his, uh company. He led a, uh . . . coup that threw out one of the Anci—uh, other CEOs. He’s very charismatic. People trust in him. They believe in him, then he . . . ”
He paused, his face clouding with anger. He ducked his head as if he didn’t want me to see the rage burning in him. “He stabbed them in the back while telling them it’s for their own good. He expected me to do the same. I had to leave. Even if my mother . . . ”
He lifted his head. Wet blue eyes met mine. The hurt was clear. In that moment, I felt a connection with him. I’d seen that haunted expression reflected in the mirror the day I found out a captivating quarterback—who I’d once believed cared for me—had deceived me. I could only imagine the torment I’d feel if the deception had been from my own parents. My parents had always been there for me. They were a bit overprotective, but they’d never tried to control me. They loved me for who I was, but Tristan? His father’s love came with strings.
“It’s okay, Tristan. You don’t have to hold back or pretend with me.”
He gazed at me for a moment, looking me over in wonder. My heart raced as the pull to him came back again. This time it was different. It wasn’t the firework explosion and frenzy for his kiss I’d felt when we were on stage. This was like the morning sun gently calling me from a deep sleep.
“I’m tired of pretending. If only . . . if only I could—” He jerked his head back, tilting it as if he’d heard something. My eyes darted to the table behind us. Zac was shaking his head.
“If only you could what?”
Tristan’s brow furrowed as he glared at Zac. When he turned back to me, he looked apologetic for a moment before curling his lips into a forced smile. “If only I could get you to join my VIP fan club. We’re starting a regional one in Texas. You’re smart and sexy, just the person we’d like to lead it. Besides, one of our staff suggested you’d be easy . . . I mean easy going.” He winked.
And with that, the cocky performer was back. He stretched his arms out on the sofa’s back, stretching his long legs out.
“Excuse me?”
Why was he doing this?
“I’m kidding!” He laughed. “You and Val. Two beautiful women who can’t . . . take . . . a joke.”
Tristan gazed up, distracted by something. One of the channels on the TV was showing a video posted on social media. A massive tornado filled the screen, dancing ominously behind the Kremlin. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes on the screen as the tornado ripped through Moscow. The channel then showed another social media video. Off the coast of American Samoa, there was a typhoon. A boy pointed out to the water where the camera caught the typhoon coming in and out of focus. It looked like a strange form of lightning. The video paused and the reporter circled the image, zooming in until the shape of fiery wings appeared. Dozens of them flickered in the sky.
Blood drained from Tristan’s face. “You need to leave.”
“What?” He was freaking out. Hadn’t he seen fake news before? The video was obviously doctored.
He yanked me up from the couch, talking very fast as he pushed me toward the exit. “It was great meeting you and Jo, but we have a prior engagement that I just remembered. Zac, it’s time.”
Zac and the guards looked at the screen. There was a beat of silence, and then suddenly, chairs squealed across the floor as everyone rushed out the door.
“Jo, it was a pleasure,” Zac said before he charged into Val’s dressing room.
“What’s going on? I didn’t finish my cake.” Jo quickly wrapped the slice in a napkin, licking her fingers as Tristan ushered us toward the door.
“Nothing. It’s just a, uh, shift change. The guards are clocking out. Thanks for coming. Drive home safely.”
Jo and I looked confused as he shoved us into the hall and slammed the door shut.
“What the hell?” Jo yelled at the closed door.
The door swung open, and Tristan’s head popped out. “Karenna?”
“I hope you’re going to apologize for all that manhandling,” Jo growled. “Seriously, what’s up with that?”
“It’s okay, Jo,” I said, expecting an explanation from him. Tristan’s mask was gone, revealing his panic. Something seriously bad must’ve happened. “Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Go back to Texas.”
Then he slammed the door in my face.