The VIP Room(51)

I didn’t want to think about what this meant. Tristan worked for the company I’d be spending a lot of time at this coming month…I inwardly cringed just imagining it.

Mr. Kemp interrupted the conversation. “I’m sorry, Mr. Blackwell. Our meeting ran over a few minutes. This is Annie Irving and Noelle Travis from Irving Designs. We were just discussing the…”

But I didn’t hear Mr. Kemp’s rambling words because Tristan’s eyes suddenly found mine. They were still the startling, mesmerizing green that I remembered, sensual with dark promise. I watched as they widened in recognition, even though the rest of his features showed no other outward signs of shock, as I’m sure mine did.

I saw what he was thinking: what in the world is she doing here? I relived Saturday night through his eyes. I saw the intimacy, the attraction, the heat. I saw my humiliation, my red knees, my vulnerable nakedness.

I heard his cold words. You should go.

With a strange sense of detachment, I watched as he opened his mouth to speak. Why is he speaking? I wondered. No…he can’t possibly be…

“It’s no problem, Robert,” Tristan said, breaking away from the man he’d been speaking to. He approached us, only a few steps but it seemed like miles. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Irving.” He shook her hand and then turned to me. “Ms. Travis.”

Automatically, I took his extended hand, felt the strength in his palm, the warmth. I remembered that hand stroking my bare flesh, eliciting such strong pleasure, wringing it out of me with practiced precision.

The last time he’d touched me, I was in the throes of an orgasm.

My cheeks burned.

He squeezed my hand and then released it, before tucking his own in his pockets.

“I’m Tristan Blackwell,” he said, his voice impossibly deep. “I’ve heard a lot about your company, Ms. Irving. I’m looking forward to seeing how you and your team will transform our new building.”

Oh my God.

Tristan Blackwell.

Tristan flippin’ Blackwell.

Discreetly, I placed my palm on the conference table to steady myself. My knees threatened to give way, so I focused on the cold, polished wood where my hand lay.

Breathe in, breathe out. In, out. In, out.

Through my panic and Annie’s polite response, I noticed that Tristan didn’t look happy. I’d always been particularly good at reading people, although I’d obviously missed the mark with him on Saturday night. Body language was everything, and his screamed displeasure.

I observed the slight downturn of his mouth, the small, almost imperceptible crease between his brows. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his slacks, but I could swear he had them clenched.

What was I going to do? If Annie ever found out that the heir to the Blackwell fortune and our newest and biggest client had recently slept with me, one of her designers…I’d be kicked off this project for sure. Annie had a strict no fraternization policy. No dating was allowed in the company. No dating clients, either. She claimed it projected a poor image. And appearance was everything, especially in this business.

I wouldn’t lose my job if this got out. Annie would understand that it was a one-time thing, a fleeting mistake. But I definitely wouldn’t be working on this project, which was completely unacceptable. This was the chance I’d been waiting years for, ever since I’d graduated college and started working full-time for Annie.

No, Annie could never find out.

I straightened my spine and pushed away from the conference table. I could do this. I would forget all about that night like it had never happened. I’d feign indifference. Because, whether I liked it or not, Tristan Blackwell was now my client. As such, I’d be the perfect professional and represent my company well.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be one of those easier said than done situations…

“And what do you think, Noelle?” Annie asked expectantly. My eyes flashed to hers. I saw Tristan gazing at me from the corner of my eye. “What do you think of what we’ve seen so far?”

Focusing my attention on my boss and client, I cleared my throat. My eyes caught Tristan’s and I said honestly, “I think it has great potential. It’ll be a lot of work, but completely worth it. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he murmured, his eyes burning into my own. His gaze was too intense so I averted mine to the group of men behind him.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Blackwell,” I said, nodding at him before taking a step towards the door. He had a meeting to conduct after all and I saw Mr. Kemp discreetly edging himself around the group of men.

I waited for Annie to make her goodbyes and we left the conference room, Mr. Kemp guiding us back towards the elevators. When we passed a restroom, Annie said, “Oh, do you mind if I go freshen up a bit? I won’t be more than a minute.”

I nodded, knowing that Annie was trying to be sneaky. One of her quirks was that she loved decorated restrooms. She’d probably try and weasel them into the contracts.

The conference door opened and then shut at the end of the hallway. Tristan appeared. His gaze zeroed in on Mr. Kemp and I and then he started towards us, his long legs eating up the hallway quickly.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Blackwell?” Mr. Kemp asked, furrowing his brow.

“No, not at all. But I was wondering if you could go call Brian for me and tell him to come up to the conference room. He’s late.”