The Marked One (The Marked Series Book 1) (12 page)

Ms. Fredricks stepped closer, her shapely body the attention of some of the board members.

“I have had the lawyers, specifically Ms. Fredricks who drew up the marriage contract, come here today to reassure you of this by showing you all my marriage contract. It should allow you all to rest assured that Gerardo’s will be unscathed by this. It’ll only be me who will be a little embarrassed and very hurt that you have thought me unprepared.”

Some of the board members looked ashamed of themselves.

“Ms. Fredricks here will provide any of you all the information you might need.” The board members looked at him, some still not settled. “Is there something else we should discuss?”

Mrs. Kurstin, a market breaking entrepreneur of Native American heritage, cleared her throat. “Mr. Gerardo, though we all know it is your personal life, I believe you are aware that our concern is only sparked when we fear we might lose some of our investments.” She paused and then said what seemed to have been on her mind, “The concern mostly lies with you seemingly dating someone while you are still married to Mrs. Gerardo.”

Tristan was slowly getting infuriated at the constant reminder that pursuing a relationship with Aaliyah was not his best decision ever, but luckily Ms. Fredricks stepped in.

“Due to the trial separation being set in motion by Mrs. Gerardo and
her
being the one who has refused to sign the divorce papers, Mr. Gerardo is allowed to move on with his life with the exclusion of him being able to get married until this period is over. Mrs. Gerardo will not gain from this in any way, as she was the one who had chosen this to be added to the prenup.”

Some of the board understood, as if they had the same arrangements. Others looked like they rather should’ve had this method drawn up before they got married, and some seemed like they were contemplating to do the same once they got married. It didn’t mean that a small handful still wasn’t settled by the news. They asked Ms. Fredricks questions about his marriage contract and it was killing him to sit there and hear their exchanges, as if he was not present.

He, himself, only found out a year before that Valerie’s intentions weren’t pure, after they had returned from their honeymoon and she said she was leaving him. Which meant she was sticking around, while the separation allowed her to milk him, and the “thereafter” he was still anticipating.

Calling himself a fool would be a kindness, as he knew it was a mistake. He was lonely, and Valerie—the temporary assistant he hired while working in London—had been there to fill the loneliness. As she was planning their big wedding, she began using lines like, “I wish Gabriella could’ve been here with us” and “Gabriella would’ve been a beautiful bridesmaid.” In those moments Tristan had felt like maybe Valerie was the best thing that could ever happened to him, but it was a false love and she had only been after his money.

About a half hour later, it seemed the board had been convinced, if only partly, but Tristan needed to leave before his sanity left him. He found his feet. “Thank you, Ms. Fredricks.” She nodded at him and he continued, “Now, if you will all please excuse me, this was my day off, so I would like to go back to that. If there are any more questions, please leave them with Mr. Marx or Ms. Fredricks. Good day.” He didn’t look back. He just headed for the door, but was stopped by Mr. Marx.

“Will you be at your parents’ house this evening as well?” Tristan shook his head. His parents held a dinner for their friends to remind them to move forward in life, while remembering only the good about Gabriella. But when you’re the reason a person is gone, that coping mechanism didn’t really work so well. “I’ll be thinking of you. See you tomorrow.” The old man patted his shoulder and returned to settle some more of the board members souls.

When he got out of the boardroom and stood at the elevator, Ivan quietly appeared next to him. “I know it is not my place, but does Aaliyah know about Valerie?”

“It will be over soon. I don’t want to scare her off with something like this,” he said, beginning to sound sombre.

“She might be more hurt if she finds out some other way,” Ivan warned, sounding truly concerned about her.

Tristan thought it through. “I’ll tell her. Soon. I just don’t want her to have one more reason to not trust me.”

“Then don’t give her any,” Ivan said and Tristan knew it was his best bet. Aaliyah wouldn’t open up if he didn’t give her all of him. If she could understand all of his issues, then he was sure she would accept him and maybe even come to trust him. Or it may all have been false hope, but one thing he was certain about, was that they both needed to stop hiding themselves from one another, if they ever wanted more from their relationship.

Chapter Eight

Tristan spent the rest of Wednesday in his house with Isabella, watching old movies of him and Gabriella as children, and reassured his mother—three times—that he was fine and that he wouldn’t do something stupid…again. It was becoming a tradition, but the one change that made it all the better was when Aaliyah called.

She sounded shy and uncertain, but she was saying hello and wanted to ask him if she could maybe take him on a date Friday, instead of the other way around. She sounded excited, maybe a little concerned about him, but he reassured her that he was as fine as can be. He could tell she hadn’t believed it, but she’d accepted it and the call ended.

Thursday passed by barely noted, and Friday was mostly the same, up until the moment he knocked on her door.

She smiled at him, her peridot eyes shimmering against her caramel skin. Her face was exposed. “Hallo, Tristan,” she said. She hesitated and then leaned in for a kiss. Her cherry-stained lips met his with sweet seduction and his hands itched to grab hold of her face to kiss her into next week. But the greeting ended, and she moved to the side to allow him to enter. “Please, come in.” She smiled at him, and he entered the dodgy little warehouse. He immediately saw the dinner she had prepared for them.

“Aaliyah, wow, this is really nice.” No one he had ever dated, let alone Valerie, cooked a homemade dinner for him.

She blushed. “It is all thanks to the amazing opportunity you have set in motion for me to live my dream.” Her smile was sincere. “Of course with the added bonus of you basically giving me a bursary to get to work with all the great mentors, I had some extra to buy a table and two chairs…” she looked quite proud of herself, “…which allowed me to host a proper dinner for you to say thanks.”

“You deserved it,” he nearly whispered.

“Then let’s hope you like Cape Malay curry, because it is the only thing I know how to not screw up when it comes to cooking and thus it was the chosen main course…well, only course.”

“Never heard of it, but curry always sounds wonderful.” He wanted to say something, but she showed him to the couch. The tiny stereo next to the couch whispered about a personified place. “Who is this?” He went to the stereo.

“Kinky Robot.” She chuckled. “They are a pretty good SA band.”

He smiled, but it fell short. “Aaliyah, I first need to talk to you about something quite important.” Her face fell and he saw her biting on the inside of her cheek nervously, so he went to sit on the couch and she followed him.

“I hope everything is okay?” she whispered, sounding scared and nervous. When they were both seated, he looked into her eyes and knew the only way he would ever get her to trust him, to truly trust him, was if he threw her with the one thing that could ruin it all for their relationship.

“Aaliyah, I am married, but before you freak out and kick me.” He only saw her swallow and worried she was planning his death. “I’ve been separated from my wife for almost a year, and in a few weeks, we will be legally divorced. The only reason why we are still legally married is because she left me and doesn’t want to sign the divorce papers because she is still getting money from me. It is long and complicated, but she tricked me, in the simpler sense.”

“Do you still love her?” Aaliyah plainly asked.

“Aaliyah, I’m stressing myself to death here. Why aren’t you reacting? This isn’t me telling you that I ate a
sammich
. I—”

“I found out Wednesday.” She was the one looking guilty when he knew he should’ve been. “I was worried over why you seemed so…sad, and then I told Madeline and she basically looked like she knew something, so I asked her, but she just gave me her laptop with the Google alert she had about you. And before you think it’s weird, she is weird and has this idea that if people find out about me then it will show her and then her art sales will spike and…” She made a face.

To him it was odd that she hadn’t mentioned anything about her being M. Spencer’s focus, but that was not his current concern.

“This is sounding awful. But back on topic. I read an article about the shareholders questioning if you are the right CEO for Gerardo Corporations. I assume that is where you went on Wednesday?”

He nodded, confused over how the situation could’ve been real.

“And, well, I was furious. Then I read further and I got more furious at you for not telling me, until around before I called you. I realised that you likely didn’t tell me because it is basically two weeks away from being over.” She shook her head. “I realised I wanted to use it as an excuse to not have to see you again. But I enjoy being with you, which is rare.”

“Aaliyah, I am so sorry—”

“Oh no…” She looked shocked. “Please, don’t tell me you are getting back with her and this is you telling me whatever was between us is over.” Painful dread crossed her eyes.

“No, Aaliyah. I wanted to tell you and have you know that I never really loved her and that I want to be with you and I can legally do that, but I needed you to know, because I was afraid that…”

“That I’d do exactly what I intended to?” He nodded. “Well, I still feel the same about you, and I think the best way to show you is to offer you something to drink, before I set the food on the table and we have the evening we intended.” He saw the light in her come back.

He smiled. “Just like that?”

“Yes.” She was speaking the truth. He felt great relief as she rose from the couch.

“Found out anything else about me?” he cautiously risked asking, but kept his tone light.

She looked at him with suspicion. “Is there more to know that I won’t find out in the time we would get to know each other, traditionally?”

“No, nothing.” He knew it was a half-lie. Telling her about Gabriella felt like a risk, even though he was near certain Aaliyah was nothing like Valerie.

“Good.” She headed toward the stove with the softly bubbling pot of curry, stirred it, and faced him again. “Now, I don’t have wine that tastes even close to as great as those we drank on your date, but I do have other options, which include beer, juice, coffee, or tea?”

“I’ll risk the wine,” he teased and felt close to overjoyed. He watched her svelte body move to the refrigerator.

“Let’s hope you don’t regret it,” she countered with a smile and ease that felt comfortable, that felt right. Her image was perfection, as she looked back at him with the light falling in behind her. He saw that soft red shimmer to her hair, which created a tiny halo, and she brought him a glass of wine, making quite a show of it as she handed it to him. “Once you’re ready, please do make your way to the dining table.”

“Anything I can help with?” he asked as he rose and took the glass from her.

“Nah, I’m good.” He made his way to the tiny dining table and then her phone rang. She turned to him with a guilty smile. “I, uhm, it’s my dad. I really need to get it.”

“Isn’t there something I can tend to while you’re on the phone?” He really began feeling guilty that he hadn’t helped with anything, as the smells were making his mouth water.

She looked at the stove. “It’s all good. I’ll be right back.” She bolted out the door and he heard her saying hello with a clear smile in her voice.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the thin walls didn’t stop allowing him to hear her, telling her father about her being with someone and that it is the same guy as last time, which obviously made him feel real chuffed with himself that she had spoken of him with her father. Then he felt a little fear as he realised it was her
father
.

After a few moments, she returned with an even happier smile. “So, my father says hallo.”

Tristan chuckled. “Glad to hear you talk to your father about me, but that has me a little concerned though.”

“I only told him all the bad things, no need to worry.” She set her phone down and clapped her hands together. “Now.” She went to the stove and began to ladle some curry into a large serving bowl, did the same with some yellow rice speckled with raisins, took puffed up naan bread out of the oven, and brought it all to the table.

“Wow, this is looking way better than Sunday lunch, which would highly upset my mother if she heard me say that.” Aaliyah smiled shyly and took a seat, and gestured for him to dig in. With his bowl filled, the aromatic flavours ruled any and all of his senses.

He broke away a piece of naan bread and scooped up some curry before experiencing the exotic uniqueness, which he thought fit perfectly with Aaliyah. The curry held a fruitiness, while the full-bodied assembly of spices wasn’t too strong and it made him groan in delight.

“Is that a sign of approval?”

He eyed her, silently saying,
Isn’t it obvious?
She smiled and took her first bite. There was a while of pleasant silence and as she took a sip of wine, she looked at him more seriously. He could tell by the look in her eyes she was trying to open up.

“I always loved it when my mum was still around and we’d take the dogs out for a walk. It was before she got sick. It is just one of those things that reminds me of the better times. It is weird how the little things are what you remember the most.”

“Does it still hurt?” He had no idea why he would ask such a question, but somehow, he felt a deeper connection to Aaliyah than with anyone else. That’s why he’d asked.

She made a squiggle in the condensation on her glass, looked right through him, and whispered, “Not always.”

“There are good days and bad days. We just need to cope,” he said dully.

She eyed him, uncertain and wary. “Is this one of those things I’ll learn about you traditionally over time?”

He felt quite sour about the comment, but he noted she had become much more closed off. “Maybe one day.” She merely nodded and they both went back to quietly eating and exchanging silly likes and dislikes and “what’s your favourites,” ranging from colour up to preferred movie genres.

When it came to the colour, she only smiled at the mention of green, as he added her eyes would be the best example as to why he loved the colour. It was cheesy, most definitely, but it was the truth.

After their main was done, they quickly cleared the table and she offered him some of her homemade blueberry sorbet, which was a refreshing end to a meal he was sure he wouldn’t easily forget.

“This was fun,” Aaliyah said with a subtle smile as he took a seat on the couch, after everything was put away and cleaned up. She bit her lip and faced him head-on. “If you are still up for adventures, you can have a try at my makeshift spiced mocha.” Her eyes held that beautiful shine that made the green glow even brighter.

“Sounds like quite an adventure,” he sensed she had become hesitant, as if him settling into the couch was too much for her to accept as normal. He rose, her eyes vigilant. “Aaliyah, I can feel you aren’t completely at ease, so why don’t I say goodnight?”

“I’m sorry. I…I sometimes forget that my body language gives me away.” She shook her head. “I don’t want you to leave. Please. Stay.” Her eyes begged that she wanted him to, but she didn’t look at ease.

“You do realise I would never—”

“Of course. It is other people who have just made me cautious, but you are real and I appreciate it.” She chuckled grimly. “I sat on the couch with you earlier, but it is darker now, so I’m just being silly.”

“Aaliyah, I meant it when I said I want this to work, but I would never push you into something you don’t want as well.” He tried to sound reassuring.

“I also want it to work.” Her eyes searched his. “Now attempt not to laugh at my shenanigans.” She made her way to the kitchen area.

He followed her and was trying his best not to laugh at her, but the way she panicked when the milk boiled over was comical and when she burned her thumb her sweet expression was adorable. Not that he found any pleasure to see her hurt, but she was fighting back involuntary tears.

“See, I should stick to the curry,” she mocked while she did tiny jumps. The burn seemed to hurt her more than she had expected. Leading her to the sink, he opened the cold water and let her hold her finger under it to cool down.

“At this rate, I’m more worried you’d bring harm to yourself instead of this place doing the same to you.” She kept quiet, so he turned to face her. The wonder in her eyes broke his heart, as her eyelids were a little wet with tiny tears. “Are you okay? Do you have cooling balm or—”

“I’m fine. I’m just a little bit of a sissy.” She smiled. She drew her hand out of his and looked at her thumb. “It’ll be okay.” She went back to making their drinks and he kept a wary eye over her, fearing she might hurt herself again.

He honestly just wanted to protect her, so when she turned into him, he held her by her arms and said the first thought he had since seeing her place, “I think I should have the labs give you a researcher’s apartment.”

She looked at him. “You can’t fix everything with money.” He kept on looking at her. His thumb moved to her cheek, and he smoothed the pad across her silky skin. He sighed and it seemed that she could sense his tension. He stood closer to her. “Damn it. That was so out of line. I’m sorry.”