Chapter 28
Tristan
"Mr. Vale," my assistant's voice carries a note of apology. "Your sister is here. I tried to tell her you're in the middle of?—"
The door swings open before she can finish. Kate strides in, all five-foot-nine of her radiating the particular brand of authority that makes her one of Manhattan's most feared attorneys. Her tailored suit is a battle armor she never removes, even for a surprise visit to her little brother.
"It's fine, Angela," I tell my assistant, who hovers in the doorway looking genuinely distressed. Not many people can steamroll past her. Kate is the exception. "Hold my calls, please."
Kate waits for the door to close before she turns to me, arms crossed. "Working hard or hardly working?" Her tone is light, but her eyes scan the papers on my desk with professional assessment.
"To what do I owe this surprise?" I ask, leaning back in my chair.
She drops into the seat across from me, crossing her legs. "Can't I check in without an agenda?"
I raise an eyebrow. "You don't take mid-afternoon breaks without an agenda. Especially not to come all the way downtown."
"Fine." She tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. A rare nervous gesture from my usually unshakeable sister. "I wanted to pick up our conversation where we left off. You shut me down but I've been hearing things, Tris."
My stomach tightens. Fuck. Back to this again. "Things?" I say tersely.
"About you. And Julian. And some young blonde interior designer you'rebothsupposedly dating." She watches my face carefully. "Please tell me it's just twisted gossip."
I keep my expression neutral, though my hands twitch with the urge to fidget. "Since when do you listen to gossip?"
"When it's about my brother being manipulated by some child who's barely out of college? That's the kind of gossip I pay attention to." Her voice hardens. "Is it true?"
I take a slow, measured breath. "Her name is Camille. And she's not manipulating anyone."
Kate's eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across her face. She wasn't expecting confirmation. "Jesus Christ, Tristan. What are you thinking? Both of you?"
"It's not what you're thinking."
"No? Because what I'm imagining is some opportunistic little gold-digger who's managed to hook not one but two very wealthy men. Do you have any idea how this looks?"
Heat rises to my face. "I don't give a damn how it looks. And Camille isn't like that."
"They never are, until they are." Kate leans forward, her voice softening with sisterly concern. "You've worked too hard to build your reputation. People are talking, Tris. Not just society gossips, but business contacts. Potential investors."
"Let them talk." I stand, needing the physical space. "My personal life is exactly that. Personal."
Kate watches me pace, her lawyer's eyes taking in details I'm not even aware I'm revealing. "I've never seen you like this about anyone."
"Like what?"
"Defensive. Protective." Her head tilts. "Is this serious? Not just some... arrangement?"
I pause by the window, looking out at the city spread below us. The question catches me off-guard. Is it serious? The way my chest tightens when Camille smiles. The way I wake up reaching for her. The fierce protectiveness I feel about her and the baby...
"Yes," I admit quietly. "It's serious."
Kate is silent for so long that I turn back to face her. Her expression has shifted from concern to something more calculating.
"I need to meet her," she says finally.
"Kate—"
"No arguments." She stands, smoothing her already perfect skirt. "If this woman is important to you, I need to see for myself what she's about. Tonight. Dinner at my place."
