Tristan had arranged for all of this, but when?
I walked out of the bathroom impressed with his attention to every detail, even the tiniest one. Other women may have loved his money or stunning looks, but for me, his way of noticing what other men didn't was one of the best parts of him.
Grabbing my laptop, I plopped myself down on the bed and opened it to begin searching for information on the Miami hotel. There on the keyboard was an envelope. I opened it and found another of Tristan's letters I'd grown to love.
Dear Nina,
It's only right that the woman I love be in her rightful place next to me. When I get home I'll be eager to see your ideas for Miami. I'll be spending my day fixing problems, but you can be sure that our time in Venice is on my mind.
Love always,
Tristan
I beamed as I reread his letter, loving the sweetness of him writing one at all. I stared at the note, running my finger over the handwritten words. God, I loved him! Folding the heavy stationary back into the envelope, I pressed it to my heart before I slipped the letter into my purse to join the others.
As much as I wanted to lounge around and think about Tristan, I had work to do. Just because he was as crazy about me as I was about him didn't mean I wanted to slack off at my job. In fact, it made me want to be even better at it. Doing a great job would help him in some small way, and that made me feel like I deserved that rightful place next to him.
Before I began searching for the perfect artwork for the Miami Presidential suite, my email lured me in like a siren's song. Jordan had sent me a message just a few hours earlier. Clicking on it, I read her email to find that I had some kind of letter waiting for me. She didn't say much about it, other than that it looked official, which piqued my curiosity, but that would have to wait. She and Justin seemed to be fine and moving toward bigger and better things, and our neighbor Mrs. Phillips on the first floor was just as crazy as she'd always been, but now that madness included a long-lost grandson who Jordan hated because he was one of those people who kept eye contact for too long.
I had to laugh at Jordan's rundown of life back in Brooklyn. She was happy, and things were just as she'd always said they'd be. Good people were having good things happen for them, and this time, we were those people too.
I tapped out a quick email to tell her I'd be dropping by the apartment the next day, and then I was a woman on a mission with her nose to the art world grindstone. The suite in Miami had recently been redecorated to reflect the varied cultures and artistic styles found in that city. The pictures of the suite were breathtaking and intimidating. Tristan's decorators had spared no cost in creating a wonderful suite of rooms showcasing the fusion of Latin American flavors and Caribbean influences so key to Miami. The vibrant blues, yellows, and reds made the suite look like the perfect getaway spot, and I wished we'd visit there just to experience it.
That I now had to find that one perfect piece of art to bring the rooms together felt like a Herculean challenge. Of all the assignments he'd given me, this one threatened to show that I wasn't as good at this as I wanted to be.
I rubbed my temples and rolled my shoulders. You can do this, Nina. You can do this.
My pep talk worked a small wonder on my psyche, and I set myself to the task of finding that one piece I had to believe existed. Thankfully, the designer hadn't gone with the obvious choice of art deco for the Miami suite. I could appreciate that. Her choices had made the Richmont unique in a sea of luxury hotels in South Beach.
Rubbing my hands together, ideas began popping in my mind and I had a brainstorm. My fingers set off clicking away on the keyboard, but two hours later, I still hadn't found what I was searching for. What had seemed like such a great idea didn't seem to actually exist. The thought occurred to me that I could create something on my own, but my skill as a painter wasn't great enough to have one of my pieces hang in the Presidential suite.
By late afternoon, I hadn't found anything and Tristan was set to be home any time. I had to find something to show him. Even if he vetoed my idea, it was better than letting him down completely. Another quick inspirational talk with myself and I was determined to find something to show for my day's work.
After another exhaustive search, a purple and gold circle print by a Miami artist that would work perfectly was what I finally came up with. To be honest, I was pretty sure Tristan would give it a thumbs down, but at least it was something.