I finished my drink and a waiter arrived almost instantly to ask me if I'd like another. I probably shouldn't have, but they tasted so good, so even though I was already feeling a little lightheaded and giddy, I ordered another martini.
"And you, sir?"
Cal shook his head and forced his lips into a thin line. "No, thanks." The waiter moved away from us, and Cal turned to face me. "This is a fancy place. I don't remember you liking places like this."
I couldn't tell if the tone in his voice was condemnation or insecurity. Either way, it made me uneasy to see Cal like this. As if I had to come up with an excuse why I'd want to eat in a nice restaurant, I said, "This place has gotten great reviews. I just thought I'd try it and see if it lives up to all the hype."
The truth was that I enjoyed restaurants like this now. I could afford them and I'd learned quickly from Tristan that I deserved to enjoy myself. I wasn't hurting anyone, so why shouldn't I have a nice meal in a trendy restaurant? As I sat there silently defending myself and my desire to eat good food, no matter how expensive it seemed to Cal, he shifted in his chair and seemed to not know where to put his hands as he moved them from the table to his lap and back again.
"Cal, you seem uncomfortable. Is something wrong? Is there something you didn't tell me the other day that I should know?"
He hung his head and quietly answered, "No, there's nothing more to tell. I was an ass and deserve anything you say to me."
Reaching over, I gently touched his sleeve. "It's okay, Cal. Things happen when you're young. That's why they say people are young and stupid. Nobody ever says someone's young and wise."
He frowned at my attempt to make him feel better. "It's just that I have no right to ask you for anything."
His voice strained as he spoke the words, and I could have sworn I saw him tear up. This wasn't the person I remembered at all. He was suffering right there in front of me, and I couldn't just let that happen.
"What's wrong, Cal? What's happened to you?"
He blew the air out of his cheeks and shook his head. "I've had a bad run of things, Nina. My mother was sick for a long time and passed away just a few months ago. She always liked you, I think because you were a lot like her."
"Oh, Cal. I'm so sorry. Your mother was a terrific lady. I had no idea."
"It's just been one thing after another, and tonight I found out that my girlfriend has been seeing someone else and is moving in with him. I just don't know how I'm going to afford our apartment since I signed the lease thinking we'd both be paying toward the rent."
My heart broke at the sight of this sad man sitting in front of me. The boy who'd broken my heart was now feeling what I'd felt, but it didn't give me any pleasure. I'd been blessed with a great man in Tristan, and I wanted everyone I knew to have the same wonderful luck I'd had. I couldn't help Cal out in the girlfriend department, but I could give him some money to help with his rent. I had it, and it would be a crime not to pay it forward.
I reached into my purse and pulled out all the money I had left after paying for dinner, leaving just enough to pay for my last martinis. Handing him the cash, I pressed it into his palm. "Take this."
"No, I couldn't," he weakly protested.
I understood. He didn't want to be emasculated by an ex-girlfriend he'd recently asked forgiveness from. "Then consider it a loan. You were right when you said life has treated me well. It has, but it means nothing if you can't help out a friend in need. I know it's only a few hundred, but I can give you more tomorrow."
"Nina, no. It's okay. This is more than enough. Thank you."
I squeezed his hand before he moved to pocket the money. "You know how to contact me if you need more."
He began to say thank you again, but we were interrupted by Jensen, who suddenly appeared behind Cal. "Miss, I'm sorry I'm late. The car is waiting just outside."
For a moment, Jensen's words confused me, but I realized as he stood there looking down at my purse as it sat on the table in front of me that he believed he was safeguarding me. Before I could set his mind at ease, Cal stood and thanked me again as he quickly headed toward the door.
Tristan's driver nodded silently at me, and I slipped into my coat to return to the house. I considered asking him if he planned to mention any of this to Tristan, but I knew the answer already. Jensen worked for Tristan Stone, not Nina Edwards, and his employer likely knew all about my friendly loan to my ex.
I followed Jensen to the car and got into the back, half expecting Tristan to be sitting there waiting for me. A stab of disappointment hit me when I saw the car was empty, and as it pulled away from The Channel, I knew I'd have to explain what I'd just done, but I wasn't worried.
I hadn't done anything wrong, and once Tristan heard about the hard times that had befallen Cal, I knew he'd understand. No matter what the rest of the world saw, in my heart I knew Tristan was a kind soul like me.
Chapter Sixteen
Tristan
I'd driven halfway back to the house, but I couldn't wait any longer to read Joseph Edwards' notes. Pulling over at a diner on the side of the road, I bought a cup of coffee and opened up Nina's father's notebook on the table in front of me. I took a sip of the drink that tasted like a cross between dishwater and mud and pushed the cup and saucer away from me. Pressing my phone on again, I brought up Nina's message telling me she loved me and stared at it, silently promising to show her how much she meant to me when I returned home.
As I'd driven here, the need to see what was written in the notebook had been overwhelming, but now that it sat there in front of me with nothing stopping me, I hesitated, unsure I could see the truth he'd uncovered about my father that had gotten him killed. My hand hovered over the tablet, shaking at the thought of what could be contained in those pages.
I was no fool. There was no way I'd be able to read the proof of my father's crime and not tell Nina the entire truth of her father's death, but the memory of how she'd reacted the last time was like a fresh wound still nearly splitting my heart in two. I couldn't lose her again, this time possibly forever.
But I couldn't live in ignorance not knowing what had happened between Victor Stone and Joseph Edwards.
Taking a deep breath in, I swallowed hard and opened the notebook. My eyes flowed over the page, taking in each word and its meaning.
Stone Worldwide—Victor Stone—Taylor Stone
I was surprised to see my brother's name mentioned so prominently at the top of the first page. Taylor had worked closely with my father in Stone Worldwide's business, being groomed to take over when he retired, but he was more an office mate than anything else. At least it had seemed that way.