"Okay, baby. Behave yourself out there."
I smiled at the word baby. Ever since our dad died four years earlier, she'd ended every one of our conversations by calling me the name he'd used all my life. As I said goodbye and hung up, tears welled in my eyes. It would likely be a long time before I got to see her girls, unless Tristan's driver didn't mind taking a joyride to the Philly suburbs.
I scanned the attic and saw dozens of boxes and a spooky sewing mannequin standing alone in the corner. Turning to head for the stairs, I ran my left shin into a chest that sat on the floor. As I bent down to rub my leg to ease the stabbing pain, I saw that the chest's lock was open. The ache in my shin abated, and I sat down on the floor. The lid opened easily, allowing me to peer in to see what was stored inside.
Stacks of old photographs and letters tied with a red silk ribbon sat at the bottom of the chest. Leaning up against the side walls of the chest were larger pictures. I lifted one out and held it up to see a portrait of a family of four with a mother, father, and two boys possibly four years old smiling for the camera. The children were identical twins, but I recognized Tristan instantly. He and his brother shared the same features, but I could tell them apart. His eyes gave him away. There was that familiar gentleness I loved in them even when he was just a boy.
Suddenly, I felt like I was intruding on something private. He'd never talked about his family with me, not even to say he had a twin. From the moment I met him, I'd felt like he was all alone in the world, so where were this brother and his parents?
My gaze drifted up to the top of the picture to his mother and father, and I tried to find his eyes in one of them, but couldn't. Everyone else in his family had dark eyes too, but there was something different about his. He resembled his father more than his brother did, if that was possible, and as I stared at the man, I recognized a lot of him in Tristan now.
I'd heard that even identical twins could be told apart easily because of their personalities, and nothing proved that more than this picture. Beaming a smile of a gregarious child, Tristan sat next to his brother, a child who looked far more serious with his tiny downturned mouth. Each boy was positioned in front of a parent, Tristan's twin in front of the father and Tristan in front of his mother. As I stared at all of them, I imagined him being more like his mother. She was beautiful, with long brown hair, high cheekbones, and a lovely smile, the kind of woman everyone admired.
I placed the pictures back inside the chest and hurried downstairs, fearful Rogers would appear out of nowhere like he always seemed to and see me rummaging in Tristan's personal things. Another hour passed before I gave up and slipped into bed, feeling lonely and wishing Tristan was next to me.
Would I ever meet these people or did he plan to keep me a secret out here in the country, never to appear at any of the functions or events he attended or to see the people closest to him? As I tossed and turned in bed that night, I couldn't help but wish that I hadn't gone to the attic. Now I had more questions about Tristan, and he seemed content to exist only in the present with me, never mentioning anything about his past or our future.
Chapter Eight
"I missed you."
Tristan's voice stopped me dead in my tracks as I shuffled into the kitchen to look for my morning coffee. He stood leaning against the massive island in the center of the room, a sly grin on his face as he watched me gawking at him.
"You're back? I thought your note said days."
And love. I hadn't forgotten the love part. Hopefully, he hadn't either.
"I finished what I had to do early and got back a few hours ago. You must have some great boss to let you sleep in on a workday."
I liked this relaxed Tristan and smiled as he teased me. "I'll have you know that it's Friday, which is basically the weekend to many people." Walking around the island, I stopped in front of him, looking up into his beautiful face. "And my boss is the best."
He took my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Thank you. However, your new job begins today, so you better get ready."
"My new job? The one at the hotel downtown?" I asked excitedly.
Tristan shook his head and grinned. "No."
I lowered my head in disappointment. It had been too good to be true, after all. Now he had me here for the next six months, and the best I'd likely get was the consolation prize of being Tristan's paid love interest. No matter how appealing Jordan had made that sound, it still seemed like second place.