I'd accepted the fact that I was going au natural, and I hoped that Tristan was into the pale girl look, but after I dressed I took a chance and looked through the vanity in the bathroom, desperate for at least some toothpaste I could rub across my teeth to get rid of my morning breath. I was stunned to find a toothbrush next to duplicates of every stitch of makeup I regularly used right there for me. It was like this was a parallel dimension that contained everything the other one at the house had. My father's joke about loving Spock and his goatee in the old Star Trek episode ran through my head and I smiled.
My father. I had tried so hard not to think about him being gone, but every so often something reminded me of him and forced the sadness I so wanted to forget back into my mind. His quirky humor. His lectures about working hard so I could do better than he had. What would he think of me now as I stood in the gorgeous Manhattan penthouse of Tristan Stone, CEO of Stone Worldwide and madly in love with me?
Of all the things and people I'd forgotten because of my accident, my father's death hurt the most. I couldn't help but feel it was unfair that I had to go through the pain of mourning him a second time. Why was this happening to me? Wasn't it bad enough to lose your father once? Why did I have to lose him again and feel all the pain a second time?
I couldn't keep doing this, so I pushed the thought away until some other time when I was able to deal with it. Looking in the mirror, I fixed the hair around my face and put on my best supermodel face. Well, I wasn't a supermodel, but I could make their face as well as any of them. That would have to do. A change of shoes from the closet in the bedroom since the gold shoes were definitely not a good look with the jersey dress and I was ready for my shopping trip.
Tristan was as good as his word, and when I exited the elevator, his driver stood waiting for me as if he was a permanent fixture right there in the garage. I approached him and saw he wore a serious expression on his fifty-something face, but he smiled like it was part of his job when I stopped in front of him.
"Miss, if you're ready, we can leave."
"Where are we going?"
"Le Ciel, miss. It shouldn't take long at all."
"Do you have to call Tristan or something to let him know we're coming?"
The driver opened the back passenger side door to the black Town Car and stood back so I could enter. His gaze drifted up toward the concrete ceiling above us. "Not to worry, miss. He knows."
If I thought the man would give me a more complete answer, I would have asked how Tristan knew we were leaving, but something told me he would simply plaster another formal grin on his face and repeat his cryptic sentence. It didn't matter. I could just ask Tristan when we arrived at the store.
I climbed into the car and settled in for the ride, not knowing where this Le Ciel was but happy that it wouldn't take long. The idea of a man taking me shopping had my curiosity piqued. Was it possible Tristan Stone was gorgeous, wealthy, sexy as all hell, and loved to shop?
No. Even he was a mere mortal man. But that was okay. I was still crazy about him.
As I pondered all the ways Tristan was far more than just a mere mortal, the Town Car weaved through traffic like the driver owned the road. By the time I'd mentally listed half a dozen things I loved about the man who had given me one of the best nights of my life, we'd arrived at a boutique in Midtown. I stepped out of the car and saw even the window showcase was obviously upscale with mannequins dressed in designer names and wearing smug looks that somehow intimidated me, telling me Le Ciel wasn't anywhere I'd ever shop.
As I entered the store, a thin woman with jet black hair and a love of Botox, if her frozen forehead was any indication, approached me with an eager look on the lower half of her face. I guessed my current outfit made it seem like I may have belonged there, but I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb.
"Miss Edwards, Mr. Stone is waiting for you. Please let me take you to him," she chirped out from her perfect mouth.
I was afraid to open my own mouth, unsure I wouldn't inadvertently say something that would give away the truth of how much I didn't belong in her store. Instead, I silently followed her, catching the price of a few dresses as we passed and mentally adding them up to a ridiculous total on our way to a room at the back of the boutique. I found Tristan sitting with three blondes who appeared totally engrossed in whatever he was saying, each hanging on every word he spoke.
The back room was even more luxurious than the store. The walls were draped in deep blue satin fabric that reminded me of what I imagined a sheik's harem would look like. Tristan relaxed on a black velvet couch, his arms opened wide across the back and his legs spread slightly. He wore his usual suit, that day's a black pinstripe with a grey shirt, and looked so incredibly right sitting there that I felt like I was intruding. He oozed power, and the three saleswomen lapped it up.
They noticed me immediately and straightened their backs when I stepped into the room. Tristan looked over at me with a warm smile and stood to take my hand. "Good morning, Nina. Are you ready to shop?"
I looked up at him and wished we were alone so I could tell him how happy I was to see him. Quietly, I said, "I guess."
"Did you have something to eat for breakfast? I instructed the concierge to give you whatever you wanted."
I sheepishly admitted that I hadn't eaten yet. "I didn't know I could do that."
Tristan leaned down to kiss my cheek and whispered, "I'm sorry. I forgot that you wouldn't know that. I should have remembered."
His voice sounded sad, making me feel bad for not knowing. "It's okay. My stomach isn't grumbling yet, so I'm good."
He slid his thumb over my bottom lip and turned to face the three women. "Ladies, this is Nina and she hasn't eaten breakfast yet. I'm sure one of you can find her something to eat while we shop."
The blonde who stood in the middle nodded her understanding and scurried away, ostensibly to find my breakfast. I gently tugged on the sleeve of Tristan's suit coat to get his attention, and he turned to face me with a smile on his face. "You didn't have to do that. I would've waited."
"Nina, I'm about to leave a nice chunk of money in this store. The very least they can do is run out to the café down the street and pick up some pastries. I just hope you like what she brings back. If you don't, she can go again."
He turned to face the other two women who remained standing there before I could explain that making a salesgirl run out repeatedly to grab a blueberry muffin for me seemed out of line. Neither of the women seemed put off by his request, though.