Authors: Andrea Smith
(Hah, bitch! Told you now, didn’t he? Get your ass off of his desk!)
Sunny looked over at me as I went over to the safe and started dialing in the combination. She looked back over at Tristan. I saw her lean over so that he was provided an ample view of her cleavage when and if he bothered to look up.
“But she clocked in late three times last week. Don’t you believe in punishing bad girls?” she asked, taking a seductive tone.
The combination to the fucking safe was not working. I started pounding on the steel door with my fist while my other hand was trying to turn the steel handle. It would not budge. The noise brought their attention to me.
Tristan was immediately over at my side.
“Gina, let me,” he said, gently brushing my hand aside as he turned the dial to the proper combination. He turned the latch and the door to the safe opened easily for him.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, not looking at him. I pulled the cash drawer marked ‘Upstairs East’ from the safe.
“Do you want me to carry that upstairs for you, Gina?”
(Okay - so now he is starting to treat me like a fucking invalid.)
“Thanks but I’m good, Tristan.”
Sunny was still lounging on the corner of his desk.
“What time do you go on the clock, Sunny?”
She immediately stiffened and got an attitude. She turned her face up as if snubbing me.
“Five,” she answered.
“Then why are you in the office? This is not the employee lounge. Tristan is running payroll and the door outside does say ‘Authorized Personnel.’ That would
not
be you.”
“Whatever,” she snipped angrily, straightening up and moving to the door. “I guess the queen bee has spoken.”
“What did you say to me?”
She turned to look at me from the now opened office door. Her expression had lost some of the haughtiness as I stared her down, east coast style. She remained silent.
“One more incident of insubordination and Abby is the one that will be getting more shifts. I guess that means you will be walking.”
Her face blushed scarlet but she knew better than to try and get the last word with me. She quickly departed for safer territory, closing the door behind her.
I heard Tristan chuckle from behind me. I turned to meet his amused stare.
“Well done, Ms. Hatton. I think you did a very thorough job of marking your territory.”
He was leaning against his desk, his arms folded in front of him giving me a cocky grin.
“Oh bullshit, Tristan. She was out of line. Someone had to put her in her place. You evidently weren’t going to do anything about it.” I made a quick exit out of the office, slamming the door behind me.
Tylar arrived at the upstairs bar about an hour after my shift started. She sat down at the bar and ordered a Sprite.
“So how did your appointment with the doctor go?” I asked, setting her glass of Sprite in front of her.
“My due date is October 2. Everything looks fine. I’ve got to tell you though, this nausea is a bitch.”
“Really? You didn’t have much with Preston’s pregnancy, did you?”
She was gulping down her Sprite.
“Just a couple of episodes of nausea; this is like constant. Hopefully it will be short lived. How are you feeling, Gina?”
“I’m feeling great, girlfriend. The second trimester is awesome. Hey, next appointment my doctor is doing an ultrasound. I’ve decided to find out the sex of the baby. I hate surprises, you know?”
“Yes. I am aware of that.”
“So I don’t know, Ty, maybe you could come with me?”
“Well sure, Gina. But don’t you think Tristan might want to be there?”
“Hmmph, doubtful.”
Tylar gave a heavy sigh, taking another sip of her drink. She started to say something but stopped when several people sat down. I moved down to take their drink orders. By the time I had served them, more people had lined the bar. I was mixing up a Cosmopolitan when I heard his familiar voice.
“Well Giner, you’re looking good, babe. How’s our wee one doing? Looks like you’re starting to pop out nicely.”
My head snapped up immediately; my eyes locked onto Ian’s amused ones. I looked over at Tylar; she nodded and left the bar.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Ian? Tristan barred you after you made that spectacle a few weeks back?”
“Yeah, well guess what? I’m here, aren’t I? He’s not going to keep me out of my own club or away from the mother of my child.”
It was only four o’clock and Ian was already drunk. What the hell had happened to him? I fought off the feeling of guilt that was starting to creep in, reminding myself that it had been his choice. It was Ian who wanted our marriage over; it was Ian who wanted to sell his half of the club. I had no reason to feel guilty about his choices.
“This isn’t your club anymore, Ian. This is not your baby either.”
“Well I guess we’ll be seeing about that in a few months, won’t we love? I fully intend to exercise my paternal rights in the meantime, by keeping my eye on you and making sure that you are keeping yourself healthy. So I will be popping in from time to time to visit you.”
“That is where you are mistaken, Ian.” It was Tristan’s voice behind him now. He was calm but his voice had a distinct edge to it that said he was in no mood to be fucked with by another one of Ian’s drunken tirades.
Tylar was behind the bar, taking care of the drink orders that I had neglected. I watched closely as Ian turned to face Tristan. He wouldn’t back down. The problem was, a drunk Ian was a stupid Ian. He wouldn’t know when quit. I was sick of these scenes at the club.
“So Mr. Tristan,” Ian sneered, “I hear you’re living alone these days. I’m happy to hear that because I wouldn’t want you poking your dick into my wee one’s little head now.”
Ian chuckled at his own crudeness.
(Oh Christ! He’s a blubbering idiot!)
I saw Tristan’s face darken. He was livid at Ian’s crude display. He started to say something, but Ian interrupted him.
“Yeah, I hear you’re slung quite long between your legs there, mate. Hmmph, I suppose Giner could take that better than the one what was in here whining about you a week or so ago.”
(What the fuck? Who is he talking about?)
Tristan grabbed Ian by the scruff of his neck, lifting him off the ground. His feet dangled several inches above the floor like a puppet. If I hadn’t been so horrified, I would have found it amusing.
“Mr. Hatton, you have been barred from this establishment. If I need to call the authorities to have you removed, I will. You are not to return here again or both Gina and I will file criminal trespassing charges against you. Do you understand?”
“Piss off, mate” Ian sneered, trying to wriggle free from Tristan’s strong grasp. He didn’t succeed. He was forced to look into Tristan’s very green and very angry eyes.
“Gina is carrying my baby. We have proof; you just need to accept that and move on with your life and out of ours. Have I made myself clear?”
(Holy Shit!)
By this time Ian had comprehended that the safest thing to do was to shut the fuck up and leave. He gave Tristan a brief nod. Tristan relaxed his grip; Ian shrugged free of his grasp, smoothing out his jacket as he departed. Tristan followed him down to make sure that he left the establishment.
I went over to where Tylar was filling a mug with draft beer.
“Do you believe that shit?”
“Oh my God Gina, that was hot!”
“No Tylar; I want to know who the bitch was that was in here talking about how Tristan was hung.”
“Oh come on, Gina. Ian was drunk. He was making shit up to start trouble.”
“If that’s the case, then how would he know that Tristan is, well, you know,
hung
like a freakin’ horse?”
We both started giggling at once.
“Hey,” she said, “Do you suppose that Libby was in here? You know she has an axe to grind still with you and Tristan.”
I considered that for a moment. It did make sense. We hadn’t seen her in a while but that didn’t mean she didn’t occasionally stop in when neither Tristan nor I were here. I mean Ian had been barred for a while yet he had apparently managed to sneak beneath the radar if he was in fact here a week or so ago like he said.
“You’re probably right, Ty.”
Tristan was back up on the mezzanine heading towards the bar. He looked like a man on a mission.
“Tylar, thanks for helping out at the bar. Could you hang around for just a couple of more minutes? I need to talk to Gina.”
“Sure,” she replied, smiling. “Take your time.”
“Come on, Gina,” he said, holding up the counter-top so that I could follow him outside of the bar. He took my hand and pulled me over near a table outside of the immediate bar area. Once then, he turned me to face him.
“Gina, I love you. I don’t care whose baby you are carrying it doesn’t change the fact that I love
you
. I can’t stand being apart from you. Baby come back - please?"
I looked up into his magnificent eyes and I knew that he meant it. Still, he
had
put me through some shit. I wasn’t sure he should get off that easily.
“I will think about it, Tristan. I can’t give you an answer right this second. I’m the one that needs a little time right now, okay?”
He nodded, smiling, pulling me to him. I pulled back, still wanting to make my point with him.
“And for the record, Tristan; this baby is yours. I will have DNA testing done just as soon as possible-”
“Gina - that is not necessary, babe,” he interrupted, trying to quiet me.
“Let me finish, Tristan. I will have DNA testing done so that there is never any doubt. And when those results come in, I will personally have the pleasure of shoving them up your ass, do you understand?”
He smiled, and nodded. “I understand babe. I deserve it. I love you, Gina.”
I heard Tylar squeal with happiness over at the bar where she apparently had made it a point to eavesdrop on our conversation.
It was my third week living back in the apartment with Tristan. I loved having the master suite now with the kick-ass bathroom and the huge closets. I had naturally taken Trey’s old closet which was fine with Tristan. We had gotten my furniture out of storage and moved into the apartment. Tristan had taken me shopping for accent items and the apartment looked fabulous. We still had the nursery to decorate. I had decided on a new color scheme.
Tristan had gone to my doctor’s appointment with me the previous afternoon. We were expecting a baby boy. Tristan was thrilled by the prospect, I could tell. I had phoned Tylar immediately upon returning home to share the good news. She didn’t seem all that enthusiastic. I wrote it off to the fact that she said she had been in bed all day sleeping between puking. She was still in a snit about how much time Trey was spending with the new partner, Amber. I listened as she went on and on about it. I loved Tylar. She was my best friend, but there were times that I wanted to slap her. This was one of those times.