Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(61)

But it's a text from Annie.



* * *



Annie: Have fun tonight at Django. I'm so jealous, can't wait to dance the baby weight off with you and Armand. Have a shot for me!



* * *



I guess Annie still doesn't know Emmy doesn't have her phone and is stuck in New York. I realize I never forwarded Annie's contact info when Emmy asked me. I do it now while I'm thinking about it.

The hotel told me Emmy left this morning. I haven't told her I know this, but it made me think she might be coming back today. Surely if she is she'd have let me know. I’m staying in her place after all.

I give in to curiosity and pull up the Find My iPhone screen on my laptop. I log in and wait as it zeros in on a map of the New York area. I zoom in all the way and I'm super aware of my heart beating heavier in my chest. I'm not nervous. Maybe I'm—my stomach swoops.

The airport.

Last seen a few hours ago.

Emmy's coming home.

And for some reason she hasn't told me.



* * *



After a quick shower, where I'm completely incapable of shutting out thoughts about all the reasons Emmy hasn't told me she's coming home, I brush my teeth then wrap a towel around my waist and jog down the stairs to the stackable washer and dryer in a cabinet by the kitchen area. I open the dryer and pull my clothes out, hastily taking them back upstairs and dumping them on the bed. Then I pull on a clean pair of boxers and jeans. I'll have to re-wear a white button-down shirt to go with the jacket I need to wear to dinner. I roll up all my other clean clothes into my suitcase, in case I have to vacate her cottage, but God knows where I'll stay.

I slip on my jacket and check my watch. There's just enough time to knock on Armand's door before I have to leave for dinner.

Why does it bother me so much? I'm completely off-balance. I should be happy I'll get my phone back.

Last night has crept into my mind so often today that just the sound of her voice on the phone earlier gave me a semi.

Emmy hasn't read anything more into our call last night than what it was. I don't think. But what was it exactly? I'm not sure I know. It felt exhilarating and terrifying all at once. As soon as it was over, my main fear was that Emmy would retreat. And I hung on to make sure she didn't. If that had been two people hooking up in real life last night, my main fear would have been how to leave. I would have been out the door so fast, I'd have left a scorch mark on the carpet.

The fact I'm still thinking about it should bother me, except I'm relieved it's taken my mind off the fact I have to face Isabel Montgomery this evening.

I leave the cottage and head to Armand's. He'd mentioned he lives above the café, so I head to the fire escape stairs on the side of his building and knock on his door.

"Trystan," he greets me, surprised. "Everything okay at the cottage?"

"Yeah, I think so. Can I come in for a second? I can't stay long."

We shake hands and he steps back. "Si, si," he says and offers me a seat.

"How was business today?"

"Good. It's always good. I'm lucky. Can I offer you a cerveza?"

I put my palm up. "I'm good. I—" This is stupid—sitting here ferreting out info about a girl like I have a crush or something.

Shit.

Of course I have a crush. That much is pretty clear. I stand up. I'll be late if I don't leave now. "Is Emmy coming back to Charleston tonight? She hasn't told me, and I feel like she should have her cottage back if she is."

Armand looks conflicted. "Si," he says. "She is coming back. But she said you must stay at her cottage, she made another plan."

My stomach clenches. She didn't tell me that. I look around. It doesn't seem like a big enough apartment to have guests. Maybe she's staying with Annie or something. "Okay, well. Thanks." I stand. “Oh, I need to buy a bottle of wine. Can you direct me?”

Armand gives me instructions as he sees me to the door. "See you, Trystan."

"Bye." Lifting a hand, I give him a short wave and leave.





29





Trystan





Grandmother has had a few too many G and T's." Beau greets me at the front door of the Montgomery home on East Battery.

I shake his hand in greeting and raise my eyebrows. I'm sure it's a stressful prospect to have me over for dinner, but I kind of wish if it was such a hardship the invitation hadn't been offered. I greet Magda, who offers to take my jacket. Beau looks me up and down.

"Jeans and no tie? Leave the jacket on."

I apologize to Magda and follow Beau through a wide wallpapered entryway and to the right into a paneled sitting room. Isabel rises from an armchair facing the doorway as I enter. Suzy and Robert get up from a sofa. I stop and take in my surroundings. Everything is dark and heavily decorated. It feels familiar as if I should remember it but distant because it didn't feel this oppressive when I was thirteen. Or perhaps I wasn't tuned in to the heaviness of family dynamics back then.

"Isabel," I say. "Thank you for having me to dinner." I step forward and take her hand, and then because I'm in her home, I move farther forward and kiss her cheek and hand her the wine.