Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(20)

Whirl mail: 3

Whirl-o-meter: 15 people could be a good match

If I read a message, I was worried it would show up as "read" and he'd know I snooped. So I ignored the mail icon and clicked through to his profile.

Name: Jeff

Huh?

I grimaced. Gross. He was also one of the fake ones. Why couldn't people be honest on these dating apps? The photo was of him though, and holy shit he was hot. Whereas this morning I'd seen him in a suit, which he wore in way that suggested he'd never be caught dead without one, in his picture, he was wearing a soft flannel shirt and worn jeans. He was crouching down and had his arm slung around the neck of a red brown retriever with soulful brown eyes. Huh. I'd have never pegged him for an animal lover.

I zoomed in on his face. The jaw looked hard, his eyes crinkling against the sunlight looked blue not gray. I wondered if they were the type of blue eyes that changed to gray or green depending on the weather or his mood. He had been in an icy gray mood this morning. His hair, brown, was unruly but tamed, as if it had been windy that day, but he'd recently raked his fingers through it. My stomach clenched, and I was annoyed I found him so attractive.

Jeff. Ugh.

My eyes tracked on down the page. Jeff was thirty-one years old, loved his dog, hiked on the weekends, and was looking for someone fun and adventurous who didn't need a commitment. Of course he was. Adventurous . . . was that like one of those terms people used to make something good out of something bad? I looked around . . . like a small, cozy, jewel-box apartment really meant one airless room so small you could simultaneously shower while watching a show from the living room and heating up dinner in the kitchen. Adventurous probably meant kinky. Not looking for a commitment might mean he already had one and was looking for a piece on the side. I'd ask my friend Annie when we next spoke. She'd actually met her baby daddy online. Granted, it was in a forum for Star Wars Live Action Role Players, but still.

At least, apart from his name, and maybe the dog, Jeff's profile was fairly honest.

Why didn't I get someone hot like Trystan connecting with my profile, I wondered.

Ugh.

I did not want to start crushing on the phone thief. So what if we had a bit of conversational chemistry earlier today, most of the time he was an asshole.

As if he'd heard my thoughts, the phone rang in my hand and Suit Monkey lit up the screen.

Shit.

I swallowed, my cheeks heating, like I'd been caught doing something I shouldn't. "He-hello?"





11





Trystan





Stepping out of the law offices onto the sidewalk, I breathe in the heavy humid air. Christ, this place is warm. Why had I never remembered the humidity? I peel off my suit jacket and slip my fingers into my tie knot and yank it loose. I keep going and use two hands to pull it undone and then undo the top two buttons of my shirt. I need to breathe. Why does it feel like there's no air?

Not allowed to leave? Those were the exact wishes expressed by my late grandfather. Mr. Ravenel looked totally embarrassed reading my grandfather's controlling missive from beyond the grave. The last will and testament was clear, the rest of the instructions would be given tomorrow after everyone had had a chance to absorb the fact that a man who, for all intents and purposes, didn't give two shits about me had made me his successor. And in doing so had pitted me against a family who already hated me.

I cast my gaze around for the black SUV with my driver just as it pulls up from a few feet away. The driver hops out and opens the back door so I can throw myself into the dark cool interior of the back seat.

"Trystan." Beau's voice stops me.

I turn to him. "Did you know?"

The minuscule flick of his eyes to the side and back to me tells me all I need to know, even as he says, "No."

"Bullshit."

"Truly. I had an idea. Something he said to me once. But no, I didn't know." He puts air quotes around the last word.

I stare at him a few minutes, his friendly eyes set in his tanned skin. "You get what you wanted?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

Beau nods, grimacing slightly. "Grandmother might contest it. She thought she was getting everything. Or at least that she and my father were."

"It's good to see you," I tell him. "But I don't want anything to do with this family. I hope she leaves you alone, but she won't need to contest my portion, I have no intention of keeping it."

"That's what she's hoping." Beau shakes his head. "I hope you reconsider. I'd hate for her to have the last word after all she's done to you."

"Removing myself as quickly and completely from this family is my only concern."

A fleeting look of hurt passes through Beau's expression as I say this.

"I—" He starts then clears his throat. "Never mind. See you tomorrow, I guess. Where are you staying?"

"I don't know. I told my assistant to cancel my room at The Planter's Inn earlier, but now I'll have to have her remake the reservation."

Beau frowns. "Good luck. The Spoleto Festival’s starting in a couple of days, there won't be a free bed in town."

"Hopefully, I'll be gone by then."

Beau's mouth straightens and then he nods. "See you, Trystan."