“Ele,” he pleaded.
“Look, I have you now. Since you came into my life, I’ve learned to control it. I’m stronger.”
“But I’m not going to be around for much longer.”
Ele kissed him, soft, sweet. “But you’re here now.”
Tristan was quip-less. He had no ready smile, no one-liner. No pithy encapsulation for her bleak story. He held her, soothing her with small caresses.
For the first time in their acquaintance, he was sorry for her. She had grown up with everything, destined for one particular fate, wanting for nothing but also wanting nothing. She accepted her terrible past like she accepted the role she had to play. But no one had counted on her meeting him. And while he might not be able to change her future, he was damn sure going to see that she dealt with her past.
21
8 July
Chicago
Leaning against a pillar in the parking deck, Tristan buzzed with a sense of accomplishment, and the day hadn’t even begun. Even though the potential for success was outweighed by the possibility of failure, he was excited. He was taking Ele out on a date. And with a win the night before over the
reigning number one, he was on top of the world.
It was part of the plan. The disguise they had come up with, but still, when Tristan saw Ele, he did a double take. The clothing was plain—a pair of nondescript shorts, a simple white T-shirt, white Chucks, a baseball cap—and she made it look haute couture.
“Hey,” he said when she was close enough for him to keep his voice low.
She was in his arms in an instant.
As he wrapped himself around her, he breathed deep. This.
She sank into him. “Hi,” she said against his throat.
“You okay?”
She drew back, so he could see her face. Her smile was bright, not an ounce of trepidation visible. “I am.”
He answered with a grin of his own. “You look perfect.”
Robert cleared his throat. “We should go.”
Tristan looked over at Robert, and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t contain his laughter. The man who wore an Armani suit like it was as comfortable as sweats stood near the door of the Range Rover in a baseball jersey, cargo shorts, and trainers. With a hat flipped backward on his head, he was the perfect fan. Ele squeezed Tristan’s hand and winked, her own giggles contained by her rigid self-control.
“As long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen his legs,” she said low, so Robert couldn’t hear.
Tristan cracked up. “If I hadn’t agreed to leave my phone, I would get photographic evidence.”
“Probably why he made you leave it.”
“We should go,” Robert said, eyes narrowed.
Tristan and Ele shared another smile before getting into the back of the car.
Robert walked around to the passenger side and got in. As he sat, he said, “They’re a ten.”
Tristan glanced at Ele.
“What?” she said.
“My legs,” Robert answered.