Tristan gave Vivian a grave look.
‘I have to take the group out for dinner, and actually I was going to take them to 1865.’
‘I could join you?’ Vivian said, trying not to sound too desperate, her wide blue eyes losing hope with every second.
Nora shuffled some papers.
‘Hey, can we have a chat, in your office?’ Tristan asked.
Vivian’s gaze turned steely as the penny dropped. He was about to dump her. And it was not going to happen in her office, behind closed doors, where she would have to sit and pick up the pieces working alone late into the night. The least he could do was have the courage to own it.
‘Let’s go to the bar,’ she said, and strode off ahead, grateful that there were enough people there, enough background noise and music, for her to be dumped unnoticed; for her to keep her cool. In public, Vivian was very good at putting on a brave face. She had had to all her life.
She stopped at a high table by the vast window and didn’t even bother sitting on the stool. If they were going to do this, they could do it like one of the stand-up meetings she favoured. Fast and efficient.
Still, a part of her hoped she’d read it wrong.
‘What’s up?’ she asked, coolly. Tristan looked at her, his eyes pained.
‘Viv, look, I, er… I think it’s best we…’
‘Oh please!’ she scoffed. ‘So predictable. Who is she?’
‘What?’
‘Meeting “Stognev” up at Vitreum? Sure.’
‘I was! He was asking my advice about the heliport thing…’
‘Oh please! Then why didn’t you say?’
Tristan shrugged.
Her patience for the sad boy who lost his daddy down a ravine had worn thin. If she listened to her heart, she already knew he was going to break it. She had pursued Tristan Du Kok for years: in friendship she had listened tohis stories about his father, about their sometimes difficult relationship, and about how much he missed him. She in turn had confided her dreams of taking the Steinherr name beyond Kristalldorf, beyond Switzerland. She had told him of her desire to have a family and be the mother she didn’t remember having. As they progressed to friends with benefits, she clung to the audacious hope that the motherless woman and the fatherless man might beat the odds given his reputation and be something more. But he hadn’t even had the manners to come to her father’s birthday dinner.
‘You’re so full of shit!’ she gasped, as quietly as she could. ‘I know there was someone in your apartment that day.’
‘No!’ Tristan lied, so convincingly he almost believed it himself.
‘At least if you’re dumping me for her, have the decency to tell me who she is.’
‘No, I just think… you’re anincredible–’
‘Unglaublich,’ she said, shaking her head in disbelief. ‘Do I mean nothing to you?’ She looked at him. Didn’t hefeelit, how incredible it was when they were making love?
Tristan looked uncharacteristically pallid.
‘Viv, you meanthe worldto me…’
‘Oh please!’ she scoffed.
A waiter came over with a tray.
‘No thank you,’ Vivian said, before he even had a chance to open his mouth. He swiftly walked away.
‘You do. Which is why I think it’s best we’re friends.’
Tristan looked resolute, and Vivian fought back tears.
