"You can't work on Christmas! If any day of the year should be a day off, that's it."
That warm smile he offered far too infrequently brightened up his face all the way to his eyes. "Then I guess I'll be taking that day off this year."
Overcome with enthusiasm for the holiday, I began to tell him all about how I'd always celebrated, complete with tinsel, egg nog, and homemade ornaments. "We can trim the tree on Christmas Eve and make cookies."
Suddenly, as I spoke of all the ways I'd celebrated the holiday with my father, the reality of his death settled into my mind. There wouldn't be any more Christmases with him at home around the fireplace as we opened our presents on Christmas morning. No more holiday dinners with him and my sister and her family. No more surprise stocking stuffers.
"Nina, what's wrong?" Tristan asked as I looked away so he couldn't see the tears in my eyes.
I shook my head as I wiped my cheek. "Nothing. It's just that this will be the first Christmas without my father." Turning to face Tristan, I said in frustration, "Well, not really since he's been gone for four years, but since I can't remember that or anything else that meant so much to me, it all feels like it just happened."
"I know. My first Christmas without my family was hard. I felt like I was all alone, that everyone I'd cared about was gone now. But you're not alone."
I took a deep breath and pushed the sadness away to a place in my head I'd deal with later. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be doing this during work. It's not very professional."
He lifted my chin with his fingertip and looked deep into my eyes. "You don't have to worry. That's one of the great things about working from home. It's more relaxed."
Jesus, just the feel of his touch on my skin made my heart race! At this rate, I wouldn't get to lunch before I jumped his bones. Leaning away from him, I caught my breath and checked out his relaxed home office look.
"If this is more relaxed, why are you in a suit and tie?" I joked, hoping to stall for enough time to get my bearings.
"I always wear a suit and tie to work, no matter where it is," he said in a fake serious tone I could tell was slightly defensive.
"So you've always worn a suit and tie? I'm trying to imagine you as a twenty year old guy hanging out looking like this."
His brow furrowed, and he shook his head. "Nina, I haven't always been this man you see in front of you. This is the person I have to be now. A long time ago, I was like every other guy you've ever met."
I looked at him as he busied himself with clicking to the next set of pictures he wanted me to see. From those gorgeous milk chocolate brown eyes, to his perfectly shaped mouth, and his ripped muscular body, there was no way he was ever like any other guy I'd ever met. Add to that the money, the houses, and the cars and there was no chance. No way.
A half hour later, even I was convinced I was the right woman for the job as Tristan's curator. The pictures from the projects I'd completed in his hotels showed I knew what I was doing. The colors, shapes, and textures I'd chosen worked well with the decor in the suites, and I'd even come around to believe that those adorable blue and white Mexican owls had done something for the Dallas suite.
I'd also settled down and could focus on work, instead of on the way Tristan looked, smelled, and sounded. The man was indeed the most delicious brand of sensory overload.
Tristan leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his short dark hair. He had a pensive look on his face and sat silently for a long moment before he turned toward me. "I'm thinking we'll go to Atlanta after New Year's. You can get a head start on that job beginning today."
"Oh. Okay. For a minute there, I thought you were going to say you wanted to go to Atlanta for New Year's Eve." I'd never been to Atlanta, so enjoying New Year's there sounded fun.
"No, we'll do New Year's Eve at the penthouse."
"In the city?"
He nodded. "Yes. It's not as cozy as here, but the views are better."
"Do you have any pictures of that, or didn't I do any work there?"
His voice softened as he spoke of his home in Manhattan. "The penthouse is my home, so it's not like other penthouses at the other properties I own, but you did choose a piece for there."
"You sound like you really love it, Tristan. I look forward to seeing it."
Shaking his head, he twisted his expression into something that looked like he'd tasted bad food. "I don't care about the penthouse. In fact, I've never liked it. The only thing I like there is the print you picked out to cover the bare spot in the bedroom."
"I must have hit it out of the park with that one then."
"It's just what that room needed," he said quietly.
"Can we invite Jordan and her boyfriend to join us on New Year's Eve? I'd love to see her, and because of my memory loss, I don't feel like I know Justin at all."
He seemed to think about it for a moment. "If that would make you happy, then we'll do it. We can have them over for drinks and dinner."
Left unsaid was what would happen after drinks and dinner and after they left. I felt like some teenage virgin who was both anticipating and dreading having sex for the first time. Thank God I'd had sex before the point in time where my memory stopped. Even the memory of bad sex was better than going into it blind.
Not that I thought we would wait until New Year's.
"Thank you, Tristan. It's nice of you to include them in our plans."
He smiled at me and shook his head. "There's no need to thank me, Nina. All I want is your happiness."
I didn't know what to say to that. Everything he'd done from the moment I'd met him as I lay there in that hospital bed all broken and bruised showed me that whatever else I may not know, I could truly believe he did want me to be happy. It didn't matter that I couldn't completely understand why either.
To him, I was his Nina, and every moment that passed, I found myself growing more comfortable with that role. And to my surprise, with each moment I spent with him, I also found myself wanting to make him happy. He had that effect on me. Maybe it was because he was my strength in those times when I needed it every day in that hospital, or maybe it was because he seemed so single-mindedly focused on me. Whatever it was, I was quickly falling for him and honestly wasn't sure I shouldn't be sublimely happy about it.
"This is the property in Atlanta. It's one of the few properties of mine that I've never visited, so when we travel there, it'll be my first time too."
Tristan pointed to the pictures of the Atlanta hotel as he explained that he'd visited most of his properties since becoming CEO of Stone Worldwide four years ago. I had a hard time imagining him as anything like a CEO. He didn't act like someone who ran a worldwide business. As I sat there watching him talk about suites and hotel rooms, he seemed more like someone I might meet at a club.