Chapter 91: IS IT ABOUT ME

LAURA

“What do you mean?”

My heart missed a few beats as I stared at Tristan. Was he edging me on? Trying to find out how much I could handle so he could keep tormenting me?

“These people are on their way,,” he said as he shoved his hands in his pockets, “and it goes without saying that they would be asking some pretty heavy questions. Some which you might find…uncomfortable.”

I arched my brow. “Uncomfortable?”

“Well, you know. It’s how journalists do these things. They pry in the name of interview questions. Remember how it was at the press conference?”

“And you still want to go ahead with it?” I heaved a sigh and ran my fingers through my hair. “Look, did we not talk about this? These impromptu arrangements can’t keep happening!”

Blue eyes flared hot. “I’m sorry, but it’s not exactly my fault.”

“So who’s to blame, Tristan? Last I checked, you are the CEO. But you are not the only CEO in the room.”

We glared at each other until a knock sounded on the door behind me. I turned around as the door swung open, to see Peter Callahan walking in. “Mr. Pierce, sorry to interrupt, but the folks from the Times Fashion Magazine are here.

Wait a minute. The interview was with Times?

When I turned around again, Tristan was watching me carefully. “Thank you, Peter. We’ll be with them shortly.”

The corporate assistant nodded and left. Then Tristan walked towards his desk and snatched up a can of bubble gums sitting there.

I watched as he popped one in his mouth and extended the can towards me. “Care for one of these?”

“No, thank you.”

“You sure? They help with the nerves, you know.”

I turned around and started towards the door. “Enough, Tristan. I’d like to get this over with so I can get back to work.”

I was still pissed that he’d closed the chapter of trying to apologize so quickly. It went a long mile to show that he might not even care about me at all.

“This is work, Laura,” he said as he followed behind me.

“I have mine to worry about as well!”

God. I was being so snappy and I couldn’t even help it. It was all his fault. All his.

Tristan shut the door behind him and led the way to the rooftop, where chairs and a small glass table had been set up already.

There were three people on the rooftop. Peter Callahan, and two other women I hadn’t seen before.

The assistant hurried forward the moment he saw Tristan and I making our way up. “Mr. Pierce, they asked if you would both like to go through the questions before they proceed.”

Tristan decided without even looking at me. “We have to proceed right now so we can get it over with. Someone can’t wait to get back to her business.”

Peter shot me an apprehensive look, and I rolled my eyes in apprehension.

Could Tristan try not to be sarcastic on top of everything else he’d done already?

The two women greeted us with polite smiles as Peter introduced us. “Mr. Pierce, Ms. Hayes, meet the journalists from Times. Cara Anderson,” he gestured at the brunette with a gap tooth, “and,” he pointed at the more petite lady with sparkling, intelligent green eyes, “Maeve Dundee.”

Tristan shook their hands, wearing an easy smile. “Thank you for picking an interest in Pierce Holdings.”

“We didn’t just pick an interest in your company, Mr. Pierce,” Maeve said with a too-wide smile. “We’re interested as well, in your partnership with Ms. Hayes here.”

“Oh.” Tristan slid a charming smile my way, like we weren’t at odds with each other. “That’s wonderful, then.”

“Yes, Mr. Pierce,” Cara added with a bashful smile of her own. “We must say that this is a very insightful collaboration, and we can’t wait to hear all the exciting things about it, which you think should be featured in our magazine.”

“Alright, we should sit.” Tristan gestured at the seats surrounding the table. “And please, call me Tristan.”

The women’s eyes sparkled with admiration and surprise. “Sure,” they chorused, then went over and took their seats.

I had watched the interaction with a rock in my chest. And when his eyes slid to me, they were cold and distant once again. The muscles of his jaw worked as he chewed his gum slowly. “Let’s sit, Ms. Hayes.”

I almost scoffed at the formality he used in addressing me. Did he not just ask these women to address him on the first name basis?

And he was addressing me like that?

He really took being an asshole really personal, didn’t he?

Shortly after we took our seats, the journalists explained what was expected of us, and their aim for the interview, which was to give our partnership and fashion brands more visibility, not just in New York, but beyond it as well.

Times was one of the biggest and most successful magazines both in New York and beyond, so this interview was a big, good opportunity I should be happy about. But the fact that I was doing this with Tristan right after that slap in the face…nah. I just couldn’t help feeling the way I did.

The interview was smooth at first, when the first few questions were thrown at us. They were mostly circling around the partnership and the goals we intended to achieve together.

I thought it was not so bad after all, until Cara looked me straight in my eyes and asked a very unexpected question. “I’ve heard there’s some history between you two. How true is that?”

Fuck. That one hit too close to my heart.

And I could not even reprimand the sly journalist and that sly look in her eyes, because apparently…she was just doing her job.

Tristan answered before I could collect myself and my thoughts. “It was a work relationship as well.” He looked at me, his eyes now filled with warmth. “She used to work in Pierce Holdings, until she didn’t anymore.”

Okay, great. Really wonderful answer.

Now…would he also go ahead and tell them why I stopped working in his company?

To my utmost surprise , he did.

“Actually, something happened five years ago,” he tore his gaze away, not before I caught the agony in them, “something I should have handled better as the one in charge of the company.”

Maeve watched him closely, carefully, with that scrutiny every journalist held in their eyes. “You sound like you regret it. Do you?”

Tristan nodded, and the rock in my chest splintered into tiny pieces. “Everyday.”

God. Was it that easy to fall for him all over again, with just a stupid word that left his mouth?