Under the Table(13)
“Almost everybody’s first time is a train wreck. You are not alone in that.” It was the best she could come up with. “So, what happened next?”
“Isn’t all that bad enough?” Tristan’s chuckle had a ring of a weight being lifted off his shoulders.
“It is!” Zoey laughed in agreement. “But you might as well finish the story of how you got here.”
“I stayed in that hotel room, in the dark, for a week. I didn’t get out of bed. The thought of running into her again made me want to throw up. The next time I left that room was when I checked out of the hotel. I took a cab to the airport, decided on going to New York, and that was it.”
There were still scads of questions Zoey wanted to ask, but it was hard to broach the topics without revealing that she had scoped out his place while he was gone. Luckily, she didn’t have to.
“I had all these great visions in my mind of how I would blend in with the scenery here. I could play golf after a short ride in almost any direction. I could visit museums and enjoy fine dining. But I couldn’t shake what had happened in Vegas and felt like an enormous loser. That made it next to impossible to make any real connections, let alone friends. Eating alone in public all the time left me feeling like more of a misfit. Even in the public library, I thought I could hear people laughing at me. I had my first panic attack in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”
Hard to remain impassive when a man looks like he’s about to cry. This poor guy couldn’t seem to catch a break, no matter how luxurious his surroundings. “So you turned your home into a museum.”
If he had realized she had given herself away as a snoop, he didn’t let on. “It didn’t start out that way. It started out with the purchase of a few lithographs of famous works. Then I got up the nerve to venture out to art auctions, where all I had to do was hold up a little paddle. Once word spread that I had money, sellers came to me. Before long, I had my own collection. I had the kitchen remodeled so that I could cook for myself, something I always enjoyed doing with Grandma at the Cove. Golf supplies the fresh air and exercise, but I can do it by myself. I spend the rest of my time cleaning this place and trying to fend off people like the group you met tonight.”
“Did it put an end to the panic attacks?”
“It did. Only now I’m afraid I’m not just awkward, I’m paralyzed.”
There are times in one’s life where you reach a crossroads. When your only options are to stay in your comfort zone or take a leap of faith. Zoey had taken that leap when she came to New York, and while it wasn’t all rainbows and unicorns, it was a million times better than what she had left behind. Tristan had already proved he could take care of himself. Now he just needed to enjoy life. He deserved it as much as she did. The things they held in common vastly outnumbered their differences. The words tumbled forth from her mouth.
“Tristan, I’d like to think you consider me a friend. And it looks like you could sure use one. I think I can help you, if you’d let me.”
Chapter 5
When Zoey returned to her own apartment, it was well past midnight. Tristan insisted his car service drive her home. She’d spent most of that ride devising a plan that she could implement without overwhelming him. She wasn’t a psychiatrist, she was a kindred spirit, after all. If she went too fast it could make matters worse for the gentle loner. It would be a tragedy to end up leaving him so jaded, he would spend the rest of his life a bitter man. Kind, respectful men were a hot commodity, and he just needed to add a little self-esteem to be quite a catch. He had willingly put his trust in her, and she didn’t want to fail him.
The driver who picked her up gave her a quiet hello and nothing more. The company likely had the instructions that the rides from this address had a “no interaction” policy.
From the safety of the Lincoln Town Car and its silent, focused driver, she pulled the money Tristan gave her out of her pocket and counted it. Tristan had given her double her price quote, a 100 percent tip. She had to toughen him up, or the city would eat him alive.
Ruth was on the futon in the living room, waiting for her, wearing pajamas decorated with cows jumping over moons, the television on for background noise.
“I was starting to worry about you,” she said, looking up from the magazine in her lap.
“I can’t believe you’re home,” Zoey replied. She tossed her bags in their designated spot. “Aren’t you supposed to be up to your ice cubes in Thirsty Thursday?”
“I was out, but when I texted you and you didn’t answer me, I cut the night short.”
“Sorry.” Zoey pulled her phone out of her coat pocket, turning it back on. “I forgot I had it off. I didn’t want to be disturbed while working.”
“You mean you didn’t want to deal with Derek. How did the job go?”
Before Zoey could recap the evening, her phone started to ring.
“Speak of the devil.” Ruth smirked.
Zoey rolled her eyes and answered the call. She headed to the bedroom for some privacy.
“I’m not finished with you yet!” Ruth called out. Zoey gave a backward wave while still moving.
“Hello?” Zoey said, closing the bedroom door behind her.
“Where were you so late?”
She saw no point in playing dumb.