what he means. “So that means—”
“We’ll be working on the wedding together.”
“Perceptive one, you are.”
I swallow hard. Tristan personally oversees the big fish clients, and to date I have not had the chance to see him at work. This should be interesting…
I shrug my shoulders. “Sounds good, when do we start?”
“Now, if that’s okay.”
I do have that one in Fiji to finish up, but I’ll work this one in as well as giving it to Gabe to take care of
“So where’s this one?”
“Paris.”
I blink rapidly. “As in Paris, France?”
He nods. “The client is paying big dollars for us to plan the whole wedding. So first class, and all accommodation and expenses are paid for.”
Paris, the City of Lights? My dream destination? Calm down Ryan!
I clamp a hand over my mouth, hardly able to contain my excitement. Baguettes, berets, croissants, black jeans. I’m there.
“I take it you’re excited, since you’re speechless. And you’re never speechless,” Tristan says.
“We’re going to Paris?” I gush, trying to avoid sounding like a twelve year-old girl.
He rolls his eyes. “Oh right, it’s supposed to be romantic and all?”
I didn’t expect him to say romantic. That’s not his style.
“Of course it is! It’s the City of Love.” Oui oui !
He looks at me appraisingly before looking away. Again I’m forced to look at the freshly cut wound on his wrist.
“I’m glad you’re looking forward to the trip, I am, too.” He clears his throat and quickly resumes a steely resolve. “I am going to warn you in advance, I am going to piss you off from time to time.”
“I didn’t need you to warn me about that,” I tease.
“I expect this event to go without a hitch, do I make myself clear?” He demands, his voice brusque.
I do a salute gesture. “Aye, aye, Captain Groucho.”
“So, if you wanted to get started now—”
His mouth pops open as I grab his hand and inspect the wound. I can’t ignore it anymore.
“When did you get this? It looks bad.”
I graze the cut gently, careful not to touch it too much. The blood has dried up, but it still looks nasty.
He shrugs carelessly. “Just cut myself a bit before. It’s nothing.”
It’s not nothing. His excuse is lost on me as I get up and go to the bathroom to grab my antiseptic and a bandage. I go back to the couch and sit down where I spray a generous amount on the cut.
How can anyone let a gash like this go untreated, it’s beyond reason!
“You really don’t have to.” I can feel him focusing on me intensely.
“Yes, I do.”
He watches me in silence as I start to apply the bandage on the offending area. Much better.
“It’s a shame I haven’t been able to see you much lately,” he says casually but I can hear the tightness in his voice. “I didn’t have anybody to keep telling me to drink green tea.”
I laugh. “Well I think you can remind yourself perfectly fine. Work’s been hectic huh?”
I feel his eyes staring heatedly as I finish up wrapping the bandage, nice and tight. “It has, everything is progressing nicely. All my employees have their own backlog of clients, the most important priority is client satisfaction. I want them to be blown away by what they get. Of course that means I don’t get to be home as much—”
“I missed you,” I blurt out. There. I said it. I don’t even regret it, I just wanted to tell him.
I peek up to see him looking slightly embarrassed. He looks so handsome like that, and I blush. Why do I have to be sick right now, why? What I wouldn’t give to have perfect make-up, a nice dress on and my normal voice back right now.
He quickly looks downwards, clearing his throat. “You know what I wouldn’t give right now to…but you’re sick.”
Dammit, he’s right! Curse my immune system. I think of the only appropriate response.
“Let’s save the fun for Paris alright?”
His eyes widen slightly, pleased with my comment. “Alright then. I think
“We’ll be working on the wedding together.”
“Perceptive one, you are.”
I swallow hard. Tristan personally oversees the big fish clients, and to date I have not had the chance to see him at work. This should be interesting…
I shrug my shoulders. “Sounds good, when do we start?”
“Now, if that’s okay.”
I do have that one in Fiji to finish up, but I’ll work this one in as well as giving it to Gabe to take care of
“So where’s this one?”
“Paris.”
I blink rapidly. “As in Paris, France?”
He nods. “The client is paying big dollars for us to plan the whole wedding. So first class, and all accommodation and expenses are paid for.”
Paris, the City of Lights? My dream destination? Calm down Ryan!
I clamp a hand over my mouth, hardly able to contain my excitement. Baguettes, berets, croissants, black jeans. I’m there.
“I take it you’re excited, since you’re speechless. And you’re never speechless,” Tristan says.
“We’re going to Paris?” I gush, trying to avoid sounding like a twelve year-old girl.
He rolls his eyes. “Oh right, it’s supposed to be romantic and all?”
I didn’t expect him to say romantic. That’s not his style.
“Of course it is! It’s the City of Love.” Oui oui !
He looks at me appraisingly before looking away. Again I’m forced to look at the freshly cut wound on his wrist.
“I’m glad you’re looking forward to the trip, I am, too.” He clears his throat and quickly resumes a steely resolve. “I am going to warn you in advance, I am going to piss you off from time to time.”
“I didn’t need you to warn me about that,” I tease.
“I expect this event to go without a hitch, do I make myself clear?” He demands, his voice brusque.
I do a salute gesture. “Aye, aye, Captain Groucho.”
“So, if you wanted to get started now—”
His mouth pops open as I grab his hand and inspect the wound. I can’t ignore it anymore.
“When did you get this? It looks bad.”
I graze the cut gently, careful not to touch it too much. The blood has dried up, but it still looks nasty.
He shrugs carelessly. “Just cut myself a bit before. It’s nothing.”
It’s not nothing. His excuse is lost on me as I get up and go to the bathroom to grab my antiseptic and a bandage. I go back to the couch and sit down where I spray a generous amount on the cut.
How can anyone let a gash like this go untreated, it’s beyond reason!
“You really don’t have to.” I can feel him focusing on me intensely.
“Yes, I do.”
He watches me in silence as I start to apply the bandage on the offending area. Much better.
“It’s a shame I haven’t been able to see you much lately,” he says casually but I can hear the tightness in his voice. “I didn’t have anybody to keep telling me to drink green tea.”
I laugh. “Well I think you can remind yourself perfectly fine. Work’s been hectic huh?”
I feel his eyes staring heatedly as I finish up wrapping the bandage, nice and tight. “It has, everything is progressing nicely. All my employees have their own backlog of clients, the most important priority is client satisfaction. I want them to be blown away by what they get. Of course that means I don’t get to be home as much—”
“I missed you,” I blurt out. There. I said it. I don’t even regret it, I just wanted to tell him.
I peek up to see him looking slightly embarrassed. He looks so handsome like that, and I blush. Why do I have to be sick right now, why? What I wouldn’t give to have perfect make-up, a nice dress on and my normal voice back right now.
He quickly looks downwards, clearing his throat. “You know what I wouldn’t give right now to…but you’re sick.”
Dammit, he’s right! Curse my immune system. I think of the only appropriate response.
“Let’s save the fun for Paris alright?”
His eyes widen slightly, pleased with my comment. “Alright then. I think
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