Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(22)

I need to give her some pointers. At the very least she has to use a fake name. If even one of those perverts has stalkerish tendencies, she wouldn't be hard to find. I remember how readily she gave me her name and social earlier and shake my head. That open, sweet, funny girl I texted with on my way to the funeral would get a date no problem. Of course she'd probably be screwed over too.

That thought brings me back to her predicament today.

I can't put off calling anymore, so I dial my number. I must still not be recovered from my intense work out because my palms feel sweaty.





12





Trystan





Emmy answers right away like she was holding the phone. "He-hello?"

"Emmy, it's Trystan." I wince at the obviousness of my greeting and clear my throat. "Did you find the place you're staying?"

"Oh, yes. I did. Thank you," she adds after a pause as if it pained her to thank me.

"That's why I called." I clear my throat again. "Well, a few reasons actually."

"Oh?" she replies then stays silent. It's a technique I know well. I've perfected it in boardrooms—staying quiet while others fill the silence and hang themselves with their ill-timed words.

Maybe it's the picture on her dating profile, or maybe I'm emotionally drained from the day, but I'm suddenly nervous.

I take a breath. "Yeah. I wanted to apologize for how I was on the phone earlier. It was, uh, a bad time, not that it's any excuse. Clearly it was a bad time for you too."

"It was."

"Well, like I said. No excuse."

"And second? You said two reasons." I thought of her profile. Be real, I hate bullshit.

"Oh, right. Well firstly, do you accept my apology?"

"Did you apologize?"

"Didn't I?"

"You said you wanted to apologize."

I grin then purse my lips. "Precision of language. Okay, I apologize about the way I snapped at you on the phone when you called to ask for help."

"I accept your apology," she says. I don't know her, but I think I detect a smile in her tone.

"Great. Thank you, so what's the place like? You didn't sound too sure about it when you called."

"I wasn't. It looks like a derelict housing project from the outside, but surprisingly, though small, it's clean and modern inside. Cozy, almost. It's only for two nights."

"Right. So we need to figure out how to switch our phones back. I was supposed to fly back tonight or tomorrow at the latest. Now, I'm not so sure. I might still be here when you get back."

"Where are you staying?"

"The Planter's Inn? Do you know it?"

She whistles. "Nice."

"I need a recommendation for dinner. Just me," I tack on for no reason. "Close. I'm starving."

"The hotel has a restaurant, The Peninsula Grill, which is one of the top-rated restaurants in the city. I'd kill for their duck right now. You probably won't get a table, and the bar is small, but maybe they'll do room service."

"Awesome." I stand and head to my laptop so I can pull up their menu. "When will you be back?"

"I wish I could come back early, but I don't think I can change my flight."

"Why early?" I ask absently as I scan the menu

"Oh, uh, there's some things I need to take care of, and I can't do them without my phone and a computer, you know?"

"Yeah. I have my laptop, but I must say this whole phone swap thing has thrown me for a loop. Crazy how much we depend on them. Or how much I do. I'm in one of the biggest business deals of my life, and people can't get hold of me except by email."

"Is that why you get so many phone calls and texts?" she asks with a laugh in her tone. "From women?"

"You noticed that," I say sheepishly.

"Kind of hard not to. I'll be setting the Do Not Disturb later so I can get some sleep."

The duck on the menu does look amazing.

"Hey, can you hold on?" I ask. "Or," I scratch my chin, working my fingers over the end of a day’s beard growth, "can I call you back in a few minutes."

"Uh, sure."

"Be right back," I say and hang up. I dial the hotel restaurant and order the duck and a bottle of red wine.

Then I lean back in the desk chair, prop my feet on the work surface, and call Emmy back.

"Hey," she says breathlessly.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just went to see if it was still raining. Spoiler, it is."

"I just ordered the duck on your recommendation, it better be good."

"Oh, it is. You lucky beast. But best enjoyed with a glass of red wine."

"Ordered that too. What are you having?" I may not be able to distract myself with a date, so Emmy was going to have to play stand-in.

"Oh. Well, there's nothing nearby, and it's pouring rain. I went across the street earlier and got a banana and some nuts."

"Oh God. Now I feel bad." I laugh. "At least buy yourself a sandwich or pastry, surely they had something more substantial?"