Read Matter of Choice Online

Authors: R.M. Alexander

Matter of Choice (5 page)

“What are you doing with him? Shannon, I don’t understand. You can’t be serious.”

“I know, right?” She sighed and looked away, unable to allow the intruding gaze to continue searching her. Now Triston wanted answers, and it was her fault. The door had been opened, and she would have to explain all the gory details. Why, oh why, was she doing this to herself? “Listen, he wasn’t always like that. Honestly, in the beginning our relationship was almost fairytale-like.”

A man walked by, one of the senators Shannon recognized from the banquet. He glanced her way with a friendly smile.

“Good morning, Senator Johnson.”

He smiled and thanked her for a pleasant stay, then c
ontinued on his morning stroll.

Triston watched the man walk away with a strange look on his face before turning back to Shannon, eyes hardening, voice low. “Then help me out, what changed? Because you are not a weak woman, you are not one of those kind that have to be mistreated to b
e happy. Why are you with him?”

She blinked a few times, the chill in the morning air moving through her. The same question she’d heard a hundred times before. Why do you stay? How can you handle it? Why, why, why, why? In the early days, the answer was easy: why wouldn’t she? Wasn’t that part of what was wrong with the world? Too many people left when things became too difficult, when staying would have proved so much more about the strength of the union than walking away could. Now, the question only sounded like an overdone punchline, and, still, no one coul
d figure out what the joke was.

Her fingers raked across her upper arm, knowing her life was fully exposed, opened like a delicate flower trying to withstand a spring frost. Shannon’s lips tightened against her teeth, muscles fighting to keep their secrets silenced and not realizing the fight was already lost.

Leaning back in her chair, Shannon kept her focus trained on the bed of azaleas across from her with their rich pink hues. “When we first got together, Greg was everything I could hope for, and then some.” She ignored the wince crossing Triston’s face as she continued. “I was on his pedestal, and he was my knight in shining armor. We married, he gave me this hotel as a present, and he worked on Wall Street. We were a golden couple in every possible sense. We were in the inner circle: dinners with mayors and electorates, you can’t imagine. We vacationed all over the world. I’ve seen places I barely could dream of when I was young.” She paused, her gaze straying across the garden, her mind lost in clips of the past.

“But then, on the way home from work on an August night about two years ago, a drunk hit him. Totaled the car. And Greg landed in the hospital with head and back injuries. The injuries all healed, except for one.” She refocused, looking into the depths of the familiar eyes before her. “He has amnesia, Triston. He doesn’t remember me, doesn’t remember our marriage, doesn’t have any idea he’s doing anything wrong. He’s a little wild, yes, but it’s like he’s a frat boy again or something. The me
ntality just isn’t ... right.”

Shannon’s head followed his movements as Triston stood with hands clenched into tight fists as he stared at the ground. Jaw muscles tensed and danced, and then he spoke. “So you overlook his behavior.”

“What else is there?” Shannon’s hands fanned outward. “I’m his wife. I took the vows for better or for worse, in sickness and in health.”

Triston faced her. “And trade your happiness to watch him do as he wishes, whenever he wishes, even flirt with other women right in front of you.”

“It’s gone further than that Triston. Much further. And pretty often.”

“You’re telling me full blown affairs, that you know about? So are we talking an open marriage?” His eyes blazed
with fire, boring through her.

She smirked. “Wouldn’t that be ideal for you?”

“I’m not laughing.”

Her smile faded. “I’m not either, Triston. Believe me. I haven’t laughed in a long time. But I’m still going to keep my vows. And hope he remembers someday. Soon.”

He shook his head, and settled back on the bench, scanning the gardens, but Shannon knew by the distance in the expression he didn’t see them. Didn’t see her. Emotions were locked up, playing their roles in his mind, and she didn’t know him well enough anymore to venture a guess what they were.

The only thing she was sure of was
telling him had been a mistake.

Shannon turned her head in the direction Senator Johnson had headed. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. So much for graceful retreats with a tail between t
he legs and shoe in the mouth.

Triston’s voice was gentle, and she looked back at him with wide eyes. “Shannon, I won’t pretend I understand, because I don’t. And I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Can’t believe you’re handling it like you are. But I’m here for you. In whatever form you need me. I’m here.”

“Thank you, Triston.” Maybe the hasty retreat wouldn’t be needed after all. “I appreciate that. I do. I just don’t know that it’s appropriate for us to be talking like this when …”

He leaned forward, hands clasped together, softness overshadowing the distinct lines of his jaw. “Don’t go there. I will respect the choices you’ve made. I don’t agree with them, but I won’t overstep them. You just can’t go through this alone. And I’d like to be there for you.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

As he reached down to help her to stand, Shannon couldn’t figure out why it never occurred to her to tell him she had Naomi to talk to and didn’t need the extra support. Or why, for the first time in too long, everything within her didn’t feel so lost.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

Shannon leaned back into the chair, rubbing beneath her eyes, pulling the skin tight until the corners slanted upward as she waited on hold for Megan Savoe to pick up. Hours had passed since the conversation with Triston, and she hadn’t been able to concentrate properly on work since. The manager meeting was a blur, the papers before her a pile of words on a white background she couldn’t make sense out of, and the phone call she should have made the moment she returned from the morning air had been pushed off until mid-afternoon. She couldn’t get him out her mind. The realization made her stir. She couldn’t be distracted like this.

She rested her head on the back of the chair, eyes closed. Thoughts raced by like blaring sirens. All the reasons she shouldn’t talk to Triston, and confusion as to why she even wanted to. Shannon wasn’t acting any better than Greg, and as the accusation trampled through her mind, a groaned eased through her lips. Married, and thinking about another man. Shannon shook her head with curled down lips and gritted teeth. Thinking about Triston was just as bad as what Greg did every day. Worse.

Because she understood what she was doing.

Quietly, she began humming one of her favorite songs, desperate for a distraction. Her legs swayed back and forth, moving the chair side to side with them. The motion eased her mind, lulled the thoughts to a sil
ent rest.

“Ms. Winters?”

Her eyes shot open as Megan’s voice punctuated the telephones lines with a heavy eastern accent.

“Yes, hi, Megan. I apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I understand you are looking to host another event?”

“Yes, a small one, but some big names. We had considered a smaller venue, but it lacks the security events like this one require. I know that is never an issue at the Grande Marquis.”

“Thank you for saying so. As you are aware, we take the privacy of our guests very seriously. What date are you considering?”

“The twenty-second.”

Shannon looked at the calendar, waiting a moment for Megan to state the month, and then understood. “You mean Thursday?”

“Yes, I understand it’s only three days away. Is this too short of a notice?”

“No, no, of course not. Ballroom A is open. It is a bit more intimate than Ballroom B, where the banquet last Friday was held. How many people will be attending?

“Approximately forty-five. That does sound perfect.”

“Splendid. I’m going to transfer you to the events office and they can take down all the particulars. I can call you tomorrow morning with confirmations.”

“Thank you, Ms. Winters.”

Shannon dialed the number and transferred the call, then cradled the phone, staring at the calendar. She didn’t have time to be worrying about Triston, or Greg, or anything else. A banquet of forty-five people would be arriving in three days. That should be more than enough to keep her mind from running away with her.

A hollow knock broke through the thoughts. “Come in.”

Lauren poked her head around the door. “Hey there. I heard about Greg’s scene yesterday. How awful for you.”

Shannon ran fingers through her hair. It was going to be
that
kind of conversation again, but she wasn’t going to turn Lauren away. “Yeah, awful. Except this time it was in front of someone I knew. Sort of.”

“Oh?” Lauren came in and slumped down into the chair across from Shannon. “Do tell.”

Shannon smiled and sighed, if only it was as enjoyable as Lauren made it sound. “An old high school … acquaintance … checked in. It was his girlfriend Greg hit on.”

Lauren’s chin turned towards her shoulder with a sly grin. “By acquaintance, do you mean boyfriend?” Her eyebrows bounced twice. “Is he, you know, hot?”

Shannon wadded a piece of paper and tossed it towards her friend, both giggling as it bounced off Lauren’s forehead. “Does it matter?”

“Of course it does. I mean, what could be more fun than seeing a long lost love? Especially a sexy one?”

“Not seeing him. Especially not when my own husband hits on, very rudely I might add, the guy’s girlfriend and makes me look like a complete idiot.” Shannon shook her head at the memory of the scene. “And I can think of one thing more fun. My husband wanting
me
for a change.”

Her lips cocked sideways in a tight smile as Lauren nodded, eyes dropping to look at the armrest. “Good thing the guy doesn’t know Greg’s your husband.”

Shannon smirked as she looked at the computer screen, and leaned over to type in the password, watching Windows populate its many icons after being asleep for too long. She was distracted all right, just by the wrong things.

Lauren leaned forward and pushed the pencil holder and nameplate out of the way as she rested folded arms on the desk. “He doesn’t kn
ow Greg’s your husband, right?”

“He does now.” Her voice was low. It was crazy talking to Triston, confiding in him. She had a friend or two to talk to. It wasn’t like she was all alone. So why had she bothered bringing him into it? She still didn’t know, and felt even worse confessing now.

Lauren shot up in her chair. “You told him? Why?”

“Don’t know.” She shrugged. “I really don’t know.”

Lauren studied her friend. “Hmm. I’m surprised. You don’t like to talk about it. To even admit what’s happening.” She paused, then repeated herself. “Why him?”

Shannon stood, throwing her arms in the air, turning away as she walked to the window overlooking the Hudson below. “I don’t know, Lauren. I don’t know. Maybe because I’m worn out. Maybe because Greg made a scene in front of him, someone who knew me well enough to know this rips me apart day after day after day. Maybe because I wanted someone, a man, to look at me again. I’ve turned this over and over in my mind. I don’t know. I’m angry I told him. I’m furious with myself.” She turned to face her friend. “And I want to talk to him again. I don’t know why, I don’t even know about what.”

Lauren picked a pen from Shannon’s desk, turning it over and over again in her fingertips. “So talk to him. This Triston … does he still love you?”

Shannon laughed, and shook her head. “He didn’t love me then. He doesn’t love me now.” She heaved a heavy sighed. “I’m not looking for that anyway. I don’t know what I’m looking for. I just know I wouldn’t do what Greg is doing.” She raised an eyebrow. “Greg wouldn’t do what Greg is doing, if he was well. I just … I’m tired of being alone. You know?”

The pen rolled off Lauren’s fingertips onto the desk. “I don’t blame you Shannon. I don’t think anyone could. Not even Greg, if he was, you know, well. And who couldn’t use another friend?”

Shannon chuckled, “Me.”

Her phone chimed, and Shannon reached for it while holding a single finger up, signaling Lauren to stay. The events team leader filled her in on event details for Thursday, a small banquet honoring some big names. A half dozen suites were required, and a small bit of added security to protect two big name actors. Simple enough, except for the timing, and after Shannon took some notes and hung up, she returned her attention back to Lauren. “Sorry. Megan Savoe called for a last minute event on Thursday.”

“Megan Savoe? That’s always a good thing. Keep her happy and the Grande will be hosting top events for the next century.”

Shannon smiled. “She’s an important client. This isn’t a big deal, aside from the timing.”

“It’ll go well. They always do.”

“Mmm, but nothing’s ever a sure thing until it’s over.” She set the notes on top the keyboard and looked to her friend. “We’re always so busy talking about Greg and my problems-“

“And don’t forget this Triston guy.”

“That’s not a real topic, and certainly not one we’ll ever have to revisit. Anyway, I’m talking about you now. How’s Matt, Mr. On-Again-Off-Again?”

Lauren shrugged. “It is what it is. We’re together and then we’re not. Right now, we’re not. One day, we’ll both get tired of the merry-go-round and call it quits.”

“What about anyone else?”

Lauren looked downward and Shannon couldn’t decipher the strange haze crossing her eyes.

“Lauren? Is there someone else?”

She shook her head and chuckled. “There’s never anyone else, Shannon. You know that. It’s been five years, and I’m dumbly attached to Mr. On, Off.”

Shannon raised an eyebrow and tilted her head. “We’re quite a pair, aren’t we? Us and our men. I’m married, and you’re in a more committed relationship with someone who’s around during his convenience.” Lauren laughed. “You know what we need? It’s a good old-fashioned girls’ weekend away. When’s the last time we did that?”

“Years. Not since the ol’ Grande was built and you were attached to the hotel at the hip.”

“Then it’s settled. I’m going to check my calendar, leave the hotel in the capable hands of my staff, and we’re hitting the Big Apple. Plays, day spas, the works.”

“Sounds perfect. Let me know.” Lauren stood. “Well, I better get back to work. Let me know what I need houseke
eping to do for the banquet.”

Shannon returned to the computer. “Will do. Oh, Lauren, wait.”

“Something else?”

Shannon reached into the top drawer and pulled out the bracelet. “Went home last night for the first time in a couple days, and I found this on my kitchen room floor. You must have dropped it last time you came over for dinner.”

Lauren reached across the desk and Shannon dropped it into her palm. “Oh, wow. I’ve been looking all over for this. Couldn’t remember the last time I wore it.” Closing her fingers around the jewelry, gaze averted from Shannon’s eyes, hands quivering.

“You okay?” Shannon drew her eyebrows together. “You’re shaking.”

“Oh, yes, I’m, I’m fine. You know, just happy to have found it. Means a lot to me. Got it from my grandmother, you know.”

Shannon nodded.  “I knew you almost always have it on. But you’ll want to take it somewhere.” She gestured towards the tiny lock. “Looks like the clasp is broken.”

Lauren nodded without examining the bracelet. “Looks like.” Reaching for her jacket pocket, she dropped the delicate chain to the floor and bent down to pick it up. She stooped, retrieved it, then stood with a grin. “Guess I need to get something to drink, I’ve suddenly turned into butterfingers. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” She smirked. “Just glad one of Greg’s trysts didn’t find it and take it home. Or that he didn’t give it to one of them.”

Lauren snorted. “Guess you never can tell.” With a sigh, she walked to the door. “Talk to you later, and keep me posted on Sexy-But-Not-Interested.”

Shannon waved La
uren away and returned to work.

As her fingers began flying across the keys, adding notes to the calendar and sketching out assignments for supporting departments, she smiled. For the first time in a long time, she felt some semblance of peace.

 

 

 

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