Even though Jordan knew me as well as anyone in the world, I didn't want to admit what I planned to do. It's not like I could coincidentally show up where he spent his time. We lived in two different worlds, and I likely couldn't afford the cover charge to get into that life. What I could do was click around online and find out about him.
Some might call that stalking. She'd likely call it stalking. I liked to think of it as research for my fantasies.
"There's nothing to do about him. We'll stay in our separate areas of the world and that's that."
"Oh, that's so tragic and romantic! It's like that Julie Roberts movie where she's like Cinderella. What's that movie?"
"Holy shit, Jordan! Pretty Woman? I'm not some poor prostitute in fuck-me boots!"
She waved my protests off and walked toward the kitchen with her glass to refill her drink. "You know what I mean. Two people from two different worlds. It's so romantic."
"Like Romeo and Juliet," I yelled toward her.
She peeked her head out of the kitchen doorway. "Now who's being scary? Romeo and Juliet? You do remember from high school that they both die at the end, right?"
Nodding, I chuckled. "Yeah. This is no more like Pretty Woman than Romeo and Juliet. Whatever it was, it isn't anymore."
I ran my fingers over Page Six in the seat next to me. Before Jordan returned, I quickly pulled the newspaper out and stuffed the folded page into my shorts. "I need to get going. Can't spend all Sunday lying around."
Jordan smiled another sympathetic smile as I walked past her. "Okay. Hey, Justin and I are going to be hanging out at The Last Drop Tuesday night. Want to come?"
My spidey senses told me this was a setup. A dating setup in the making. "You and Justin and your third wheel? Or will there be a fourth?"
Her look turned sheepish. "I think you might like him, Nina. Alex is pretty good looking, has a good job, and he doesn't seem like a loser."
"A ringing endorsement if I ever heard one," I joked and continued walking. "I'll think about it."
"At least it'll be a night out. We'll have a few drinks, shoot some pool, and maybe have a few laughs," she yelled as I closed my bedroom door behind me.
I sat down on my bed and opened my laptop, content to spend my afternoon looking up information on Tristan. While my computer turned on, I examined the picture of him with his girl du jour at some gala. His face was expressionless and he seemed more like a statue of himself than the real thing. The woman, however, looked like she was thrilled to be there with him, clinging to his arm and smiling a huge, toothy grin for the camera.
Raising the picture to look at it more closely, I studied it for any sign of the person who'd smiled and laughed as he'd driven to the middle of nowhere the night before. He didn't seem to exist in this person.
Setting the paper aside, I typed my first words into the search bar. "Tristan Stone." I figured I might as well start with the obvious and go from there. It didn't take long to see that Jordan had been right. The pictures I saw showed him with a different woman every time, but he was the same cold figure in each one. The soulful brown eyes that had looked at me were nowhere to be found. Neither was the genuine smile that he'd so freely given, even if it had seemed like he was laughing at me more times than not.
Once I'd looked at enough pictures of him to truly make me feel like a stalker, I began reading and found out the real details on him. He'd inherited his father's luxury hotels along with other businesses that included an internet startup company and some company that had to do with real estate.
I sat transfixed on the words as they stared back at me from the screen. Tristan, the man who'd come to find me just for company, was a millionaire many times over. Maybe even a billionaire. The car was his. The Rolex was his. He was the kind of man women dreamed of, and he'd wanted to spend time with me.
And now I would never see him again.
Closing my laptop, I flopped back on the bed and groaned. I needed to stop thinking about Tristan right now. He was something unattainable, and I needed to accept that. It didn't matter that he had looked happier in the short time with me than he ever looked with all those women at all those fancy parties. None of that meant anything because of the simple fact that even if he'd been happy, he'd made no effort to get my number, kiss me goodnight, or even find out much about me.
I covered my eyes with my arm and tried to push all thoughts of him out of my mind. If I kept this up, I'd end up becoming obsessed over a situation that was doomed never to be. He was where he belonged and I was where I belonged.
Life was as it should be, no matter how disappointing that fact was.
Chapter Three
Tuesday night came, and I chose to accept Jordan's offer to hang out with her, Justin, and Alex at the bar. Monday's work at the gallery had made it difficult to stop thinking about Tristan, but I had done my best to talk myself out of my infatuation. In truth, I probably hadn't really succeeded, but the human mind is an interesting mechanism and very susceptible to delusion. Regardless of whether I was lying to myself or not, I headed out to The Last Drop and promised myself I'd keep an open mind about Alex.
The Last Drop was the one place in Sunset Park that could be picked up and dropped back in my home town in Pennsylvania. It was just a bar, what was traditionally called a "hole-in-the-wall" back home, with a couple pool tables, some dart boards, and a back room with booths and another pool table. Jordan and I had found it soon after moving into our place, and Tuesday night had become our night out each week. It wasn't much, but it was fun.
She'd told me everything she knew about Alex as we waited for him and Justin, and when I say everything, I mean everything. She must have compiled some kind of dossier on him because she knew his height, weight, where he went to school, what he did for a living, how much money he earned, in addition to dozens of other details I probably could have done without. I mean, should a woman really know about a potential boyfriend's favorite sexual position—cowgirl—before she even meets the guy?
As I hadn't heard anything to necessarily turn me off, I figured staying wouldn't do any harm. Worst came to worst, at least I'd occupy my mind with some friends, a few beers, and a few games of pool while I crossed another male off my list of potential boyfriends.
"Nina, I hope you like him," Jordan said as she leaned across the table to talk over the blaring of the music from the jukebox. "We could all go out if you do."
I nodded and smiled my agreement. By the time the song had ended, Justin and Alex had arrived and I got my first good look at the man Jordan had chosen for me. Tall, with dirty blond hair and blue eyes, he was certainly attractive. My suspicious mind immediately went to the question of why he'd be single, but I told myself to give this a chance. I was single and there wasn't anything profoundly wrong with me.