Authors: Andrea Smith
Once I had arrived at the club, I immediately went to the office to find Tristan. He wasn’t there; his coat wasn’t hanging on the door. As I started to leave the office, someone had tapped on the door. It was Jo Anna, the first shift bar manager.
“Jo Jo, do you know where Tristan might be?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Gina. Sit down for a moment, will you?”
(Oh God! This has to be bad - really bad!)
“I don’t know where Tristan went when he stormed out, but I do know why he left. It was a pretty awful scene in here earlier.”
“Let me guess,” I had interrupted her, “Ian stirred up some shit?”
“That is putting it mildly,” she had replied. “Gina, I feel weird getting into your business like this; I’m uncomfortable repeating what Ian said to Tristan.”
“Please Jo Anna, I’m a big girl. Let it rip.”
“Well, Ian showed up here this afternoon and made it a point to have a few drinks at the upstairs bar before he came down just as Tristan was stocking the main bar down here. He ordered a drink and Tristan served him. Then Ian started in about the baby you’re expecting and how you and he made love right around the time the baby was conceived, and --”
“Whoa, whoa, hold-up, Jo Jo. How would Ian have known any of this? Tristan and I haven’t exactly made it public knowledge outside of a few of the employees here.”
A look of irritation crossed her face.
“I’m pretty sure it was Johnny Four Fingers,” she had replied.
“Who?”
“I’m sorry; John Dealy, the new chef Tristan hired a month or so back.”
Then I remembered who she was referring to; the man had lost one of his fingers on his right hand while working at a pizza restaurant during college. Some of the other staff had nicknamed him ‘Johnny Four Fingers.’ Tristan had not been pleased about the nickname.
“So how does John know Ian?”
“Oh they met at the bar one evening after John was off work. You know John gossips worse than any female ever could. Ian bought him a couple of drinks and John spilled everything he knew, including the fact that you and Tristan were expecting and when.”
“Okay, so go on,” I had urged her.
“Well, Ian goes on about how he had a fertility test conducted because Shelly had wanted to make sure he wasn’t sterile if their relationship was to go any further. Ian hands an envelope to Tristan that was sealed with your condo address on it. He told him it was a piece of mail that he had picked up that day at your condo when he said, you know, that--” she had stumbled over her words.
“Yes, yes - go on,” I had said, waving my hand at her to skip ahead.
“Tristan opened it, read it, and then tossed it on the bar in front of Ian. I made myself scarce after that. I didn’t hear the rest of their conversation. The next thing I knew, Tristan had left the club.”
I had thanked Jo Jo for the information. I needed to stay at the club to manage since Tristan had left. I had busied myself with helping where needed, relieving the bartenders for breaks; the same things that Tristan would have done had he not made a hasty exit.
Tristan had returned around midnight. He looked as if he had been tipping a few back. He had seen me immediately behind the bar on the main floor.
“What the hell are you doing here, Gina?”
“Gosh Tristan, last time I looked I was half owner. Someone had to be here after you stormed out.”
“I had my reasons,” he had snapped at me, coming behind the bar. “I want you to go home, Gina. We’ll talk about this later.”
“I’m not going home without you,” I had argued, “I already know the gist of it anyway. Ian called me earlier.”
That had caused Tristan to raise an eyebrow at me.
“You heard me. If you can’t figure out that Ian is just trying to cause problems between us because he wants us apart since his life is so miserable, then I don’t know what to tell you.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about Ian being miserable, Gina. What I do have an issue with is that you lied to me. I went through this shit with Tara; I won’t go through it again.”
“I haven’t lied to you, Tristan.”
“You have lied by omission; in my book that is the same thing.”
“Tristan now is not the time or place for this discussion.”
“You’re right,” he had snapped, taking my arm and guiding me out from behind the bar. “Jo Anna, can you close up here?”
Jo Anna had come hurrying over when she saw Tristan return. She had kept a short distance away, but clearly she had been concerned that Tristan and I could potentially draw the attention of the patrons.
I had driven us back to the apartment as it had been obvious Tristan had been drinking. We had argued in the car, and continued arguing at the apartment. Then Tristan had stormed out; Trey had followed closely behind. Tylar and I had both freaked. I knew Trey would not remain pissed at Tylar. Tristan was a different story. Tylar didn’t understand the difference in their temperaments.
Trey had a quicksilver temper; quick to anger, quick to calm. Tristan was more of a slow boil. It took a lot for him to get to the point of being furious; I was fairly certain he was slow at calming down once pushed over the threshold. He had been furious with me.
I buried my face in his pillow; it smelled like Tristan, my Tristan. My tears started flowing again. Why in the hell did shit like this happen to me? I had thought Ian and I were happy - until I saw him humping Shelly in the office at the club. His declaration of love for her had come to me shortly thereafter.
Now it was Tristan saying those horrible things to me; telling me that he couldn’t believe a single word I said. I had caused him to doubt my love for him. He had accused me of being duplicitous. It seemed like there was always someone nearby wanting to piss on my cornflakes.
I finally fell into a troubled sleep. It was a temporary escape at least from the harsh reality I would be forced to deal with now.
The following morning I was awakened by the sound of Preston crying. I got up and went to her crib. She was standing up and held her arms up when she saw me.
“Hey there, sweetie pie. Where’s your mommy, huh? You want Aunt Gina to get you some breakfast?”
I changed her diaper then carried her out to the kitchen. I noticed that Trey had crashed on the couch. At least he had come back home. I wondered where Tristan had gone. My heart was heavy.
I got Preston settled into her high chair. I peeled a banana, slicing it into small pieces and tossing them into a bowl. She loved finger foods. I set the bowl in front of her; she immediately grabbed a slice of banana smashing it into her mouth. She was such a cutie. I got her sippy cup out and put some apple juice in it for her.
Tylar came into the kitchen looking like hell.
“Thanks for getting to her, Gina. I guess I fell into a deeper sleep than I expected.”
“No problem, Ty. I see the ‘Hot Nazi’ made it home,” I said, nodding towards the living room.
“Yeah, I saw him. Tristan?”
I shook my head ‘no.’
“Gina, he will be back-”
“Ty, don’t try to cheer me up. I should have told him. You were right; I was wrong. I can’t talk about this now. I have plans to make.”
“What kind of plans?”
“I have to find a place to live, for one thing.”
“Gina, please. Come stay with Trey and me at the house. We have plenty of room out there.”
“Thanks, but no thanks, Ty. I’ve imposed enough. Don’t worry. I’ve got some calls to make.”
I left the kitchen returning to my room. I wasn’t going to argue the matter with Tylar. I was determined not to be some pathetic leech. It was time that Trey and Tylar had their lives back to normal.
I showered, dressed and packed my clothes up. I phoned Jo Jo to see if I could crash at her apartment until I found a place of my own.
“You can stay as long as you like,” she told me.
Trey helped me load my suitcases into my car. There was an uncomfortable silence between us. I kissed Tylar and Preston; telling Tylar to call me once they were settled in the new house. She looked like she was getting ready to cry. That was Tylar; always emotional. She knew I would weep around for a day or two; then my survival instincts would kick in and I would be fine.
I spent the next two days hiding out at Jo Anna’s doing just that. I appreciated that Jo Jo didn’t fuss over me like Tylar would have; she let me cry; didn’t say a word when I spent an hour ranting and raving in my room at Tristan, as if he were there listening to everything I said to him.
On Day Three I was ready to get back on track with my life. It was Wednesday, my normal day to open the upstairs bar with Eddie at three o'clock. I showered, dressed in my bartender garb and headed to the club.
I breezed into the club, not daring to look around to see if Tristan was in sight. Eddie was hanging the clean glassware overhead when I lifted the bar counter to get behind there with him. I shoved my purse under the bar and tossed my coat on top of it.
“Well, you didn’t drop off the face of the earth as rumor had it,” Eddie said, turning his full attention to me. “Are you okay, Gina?”
“I’m fine Eddie. I’m ready to get back to work and keep busy.”
“Is Tristan okay with that?”
“What the hell, Eddie? I own half this club. I don’t need Tristan’s permission to work here.”
“It’s just that -”
“Just what?” I asked, flashing him an angry look.
“Uh . . . nothing,” he replied, looking extremely uncomfortable.
We worked in silence for the next few minutes, getting the bar stocked and ready. I was busy filling the cooler with ice and didn’t notice the girl who had come up to the bar, dressed in the same outfit as me. She had long, reddish-brown hair; she was tall, slender and had major cleavage to boot. I saw her name tag. It read ‘Sunny.’
“Did I misread my schedule?” she asked, looking between Eddie and me. She opened her purse, pulling out a copy of the bar schedule that was posted weekly.
“Today is Wednesday, right?”
Eddie was looking extremely uncomfortable by this time. He remained silent. I wiped my hands on a bar towel and went over to her, holding my right hand out.
“Hi Sunny; I’m Gina Hatton, co-owner of the bar. I don’t think we’ve met before.”
She smiled taking my hand and shaking it. She had a lovely dimple when she smiled.
“Oh, I am pleased to meet you, Gina. No today is my first day. Tristan hired me on Monday. I worked over at ‘Peaches’ and he was in there at the bar last weekend. He told me there was going to be an opening here. Well, I couldn’t turn down the great hours he gave me. Plus, the tips here will triple what I was getting at ‘Peaches.”
“I see,” I replied, immediately suspicious of Tristan’s motives. “May I see your schedule, please?”
She handed it over to me. Tristan had given her all of my scheduled shifts.