That’d bepetty.
That’d belame.
If he had wanted committed relationships, he could have had them. He had chosen not to tread that path. No room for secondguesses.
Stopping beside the hostess, he peeked over her shoulder to check the reservations for that night. “Looking good,huh?”
“Booked solid until the end of the month. Good job with that TV commercial. Most of the ladies calling in to make a reservation asked, and I quote, if the ‘drop-dead-gorgeous guy’ from TV was really the owner and if the six-pack was real orphotoshopped.”
Karen Razzini moonlighted at Chez Nous’s greeting podium at night, but her day job was as the restaurant’s bookkeeper. Nelson Razzini, her brother, was Tristan and Noah’s Brazilian partner and longtime friend. Although the restaurant working environment was informal, as it was typical of the Brazilian culture, Karen’s status as friend warranted her getting away with that kind ofcomment.
Still, Tristan’s cheeks burned, and Karen taunted, “Aww, how cute is that? You’re blushing. Get out of here and let me do my job.” Karen nodded towards the door as it creaked open before adding in a low voice so that only he could hear, “You’re too much of adistraction.”
His delighted chuckle died out, and the twinkle in his eyes vanished, when he lifted his stare to welcome thenewcomers.
“You!” He didn’t try to disguise the accusatory tone as he growled, “What the fuck are you doinghere?”
Of all the trendy restaurants, in all the south of Brazil, Izzie Anderson walks intomine.
It’s been almost fifteen years, but her betrayal cut through Tristan just as much as it did the day she told him she waspregnant.
And that the baby wasn’this.
3
Izzie
Get a grip,girl. Focus on why you came.Izzie Anderson reprimanded herself, when she realized she was gawking. She had forgotten how hot Tristanwas.
Time stood still as her eyes glued on his athletic physique, covered in an elegant white dress shirt and dark gray pants. Tristan was about to turn forty, yet he looked barely thirty. That tropical tan gave him a healthy aspect toboost.
His dark blue eyes squinted when his square jaw locked, and his nostrils flared. When the silence stretched between them because her mouth had gone too dry for words, his full lips inched up in a sardonic smile. She watched his pain turn to scorn. Izzie couldn’t bear it. Her voice deserted her as she drew a blank, forgetting the speech she had rehearsed in her head countless times. Her mind got clogged by Tristan’s anguish and her remorse, leaving no room for reasonablethoughts.
Hishurt.
Hersorrow.
Noatonement.
And how could there be any forgiveness for what she had put himthrough?
I can’t do this.She fought the urge to bolt. Too much at stake for her to take the easy way outnow.
Izzie had expected a cold reception, but the pain darkening Tristan’s eyes did funny things to her. It was such a raw emotion, it left her feeling gutted and exposed. Her sins came back in a rush to haunt her, as if she didn’t already deal with them on a regularbasis.
A sudden ringing in her ear stole her balance and Izzie grasped the golden lectern on her left to steady herself, shaking it, and sending the hostess’s papers gliding to thefloor.
“I’ve got this.” The soft-spoken brunette squatted to pick up hernotes.
Izzie felt her cheeksburn.
Returning her focus to the six-foot-something worth of rage looming in front of her, rational thoughts went out the door, and Izzie felt again like the naïve fifteen-year-old she had once been. Right about the time her life turned an unexpected spin for thebetter.
Or so she hadthought.
Now’s not the time to gothere.
Izzie squared her shoulders, recalling why she decided to reach out to Tristan after all those years. She had a mission she couldn’t fail. She’d better bite the bullet. She knew it would be hard facing him, but she didn’t expect to find his wounds still open andfestering.
