And so she shouldn’t feel guilty.
And yet, she felt as if that earthquake had caved in the ceiling and she was being crushed.
Colleen typed back, Yeah, we need to talk. I’m kind of busy right now for a few hours. I don’t know what continent you’re on, so I don’t know what time zone you’re in. Maybe we can talk tonight, Mountain Time?
And with that, Colleen swiped out the direct messaging app and turned off notifications because she was sure she would have a busy day. Tristan had told her to be in his suite by eight o’clock that morning, so she had just under an hour to shower and slap some makeup on her face before she had to present herself.
Boinking him last night probably hadn’t changed their schedule for the day.
Colleen rapped on the door to Tristan’s suite with two minutes to spare, her backpack with her computer slung over her shoulder.
Jian opened it immediately. “You’re expected.”
His solemn face gave nothing away, so he must have either not heard them the night before or he was supremely pissed at her for scruffing his boss.
When she entered the penthouse suite, Tristan was standing near the windows, talking on the phone. His suit jacket hung over the back of one of the chairs, and his white dress shirt was open at the collar, exposing his throat where she’d kissed him last night.
Her skin warmed under her clothes.
He saluted her with the coffee cup he held in his other hand and continued talking.
Jian asked her, “Have you had breakfast? I ordered enough for all of us.”
Tristan called across the room to her, “Good morning!” as he lowered his phone and returned to the dining room where a large breakfast, enough for Colleen and all her siblings, was laid out on the table. “Ah, good. You brought your laptop. We got the usual danishes, scrambled eggs, and fruit, but you should let Jian know if you want anything else.”
Colleen sat at one of the place settings and forked two danishes, grabbed a heap of strawberries, and spooned several cups of scrambled eggs onto her plate. “There’s so much! I don’t know how we’re going to eat all this.”
Tristan waved his hand over it. “It’s just here if you want it.”
She glanced at Jian, who shrugged.
Okay, rich people wasted food. That probably wasn’t surprising. Colleen began eating because they had to leave soon.
Tristan’s phone rang again, and he stepped away to answer it.
When she flipped over her coffee cup on its saucer and started to reach for the coffee carafe, Tristan waved his hand and held up a finger. Though he was reciting numbers the whole time into his phone, he walked over to a catering cart Colleen hadn’t even noticed, retrieved a tall paper cup with a lid, and set it in front of her with a wink.
She sniffed the sipping hole in the lid, and the aroma wafting through was rich with espresso, caramel, and cinnamon. When she sipped the caramel macchiato, the sweet and spicy flavor was how she liked it.
Dang, he’d even figured out the cinnamon-sugar sprinkle on top of the extra whipped cream.
Colleen melted a little bit inside.
Between phone calls, Tristan briefed her on the upcoming meeting, which was to be with a wealth management agency with substantial banking ties.
“What do you need all this money for?” she asked him.
He waved his hand as he chomped on a danish and washed it down with black coffee. “A debt has come due. It’s too complicated to explain.”
“Are you sure you’re not in the Mafia?” Colleen asked and pretended like she was joking.
Tristan shook his head as he ate and glanced at his phone. He rubbed his lips with a napkin. “We’ve got to leave in five minutes.”
He rose from the table and disappeared into his bedroom.
Jian was rushing around, checking Tristan’s laptop bag and talking on the phone to the concierge service to make sure the car would be pulled around.
In the mad rush to leave, Colleen checked her purse for some paper and a pen to take notes at the meeting.
