Page 19 of About Last Night
As if.
He singlehandedly kept the family business afloat these days. If it had been left to hismissing in actionfather or useless brother, the whole portfolio would have collapsed around their ears by now. Increasingly, as the years went by, the old man had stopped thinking with his business head and put all his energy into partying and keeping his kaleidoscope of a love life rotating. In fact, Tristan would go so far as to say he’d turned into a world expert on the pursuit of women.
He remembered with a jolt of discomfort how his father had warned him about his relationship with Marcy at onepoint, suggesting he should ask her to marry him if he didn’t want to lose her. He’d been so outraged with the patronising meddling he hadn’t spoken to him for weeks. The old bugger had been right about her shaky commitment to him, though – just being with him hadn’t been enough for her; she’d wanted his soul too.
And then Tallulah had swanned in today and chipped away at his already damaged dignity, making him react in an uncharacteristically rash manner.
Why were women hell-bent on reducing him to a heap of rubble?
There was a loud rap on the door and the station manager strolled in with a wide, confident smile on his pretty-boy face.
‘Tristan. I’m Jeremy Whatley-Hume – but call me Jez.’ He held out a hand, which Tristan took and shook, albeit diffidently. He didn’t like the guy on sight.
‘Thanks so much for coming in to sort out our littleproblem.’ Jez gave the last word a flippant slant, as if it hadn’t involved something as important as the altered trajectory of another person’s career.
‘We were meant to be meeting first thing, Jez,’ Tristan said bluntly, allowing the remnants of his ire from the confrontation with Lu to spill into the tenor of his voice.
‘Sorry about that,’ Jez said, wafting a hand in Tristan’s direction and flopping down into the chair Tallulah had just vacated, propping his feet up on the table and reclining back, not appearing sorry in the least. ‘I had a last-minute meeting with an advertiser. Can’t say no to the moneymen, Tristan,’ he said, flashing what he clearly thought was a look of shrewd camaraderie, but actually made him seem more like a try-hard schoolboy.
Tristan didn’t say anything; instead, he picked up his tabletand tapped some random nonsense into it, making Jez wait until he’d finished before they began the meeting.
Jez fidgeted beside him, obviously not used to being kept waiting for anything. ‘So, she’s gone then,’ he blurted, unable to maintain the silence. ‘Did she give you much trouble?’ His tone was belligerently offhand, as if he hadn’t doubted for a second thatshe’dbe fired and not him.
Tristan’s skin prickled with annoyance. There was something inherently unpleasant about the guy.
He didn’t look up from his tablet. ‘I’ve dealt with it. She’s clearing her desk.’
Jez put his hands behind his head and stretched further back in his chair. If he got any more relaxed he’d be horizontal soon. ‘Cheers for sorting it so quickly,’ he said, yawning so wide Tristan could see his tonsils.
He was a handsome man, Tristan reflected; he could see why women might want to sleep with him, but surely they found his overconfident yapping a turn-off?
The thought of him and Tallulah together made his stomach roll unpleasantly.
‘While I’m here, I’ll take a look over the accounts,’ he said to the side of Jez’s head.
The guy seemed to stiffen and swivelled back to face Tristan, pinning him with an affronted expression. ‘No need; they’re all in order,’ he drawled.
The attempted brush-off made Tristan wonder what he was hiding. ‘I’ll need to use your office while I go over them,’ he said firmly, and was gratified to see a flash of annoyance on Jez’s face.
Maybe it was childish, but he was enjoying seeing the guy shaken up.
‘Okay then,’ Jez said, dropping his feet to the floor and standing up, apparently keen to be out of there now. ‘I’ll be out formost of the day – business to attend to – so it’s all yours,’ he muttered, not giving Tristan time to respond before he strode out, slamming the door closed behind him.
Tristan leaned back in his chair, a deep sense of foreboding invading his consciousness.
Something felt very wrong here.
‘You have to sue the arse off them!’
Lula winced as Emily’s voice bellowed down the phone at her. After stumbling home in a daze, she was now curled up on her overstuffed red velvet sofa wearing her tracksuit bottoms and a Take That T-shirt that she’d bought second hand from an online auction site. An empty packet of biscuits and a cold, half-full coffee mug sat on the table in front of her.
‘It’s not my style, Em; I couldn’t take the stress of it. Anyway, I don’t have money spare to hire a lawyer and I’d probably do my professional reputation more harm than good by dragging this thing through a court.’
Emily snorted in disgust, but didn’t push it. Her friend knew how much she hated confrontation.
‘So, whatareyou going to do?’ Emily asked more gently.
‘I’ve already been in touch with Scott Wendell. His long-standing job offer to present a show on his radio station in Melbourne is still open.’
