Lingus by Mariana Zapata
I stuttered, torn between trying to understand why one of them would choose Lady as her nickname and wondering why she was asking me if I knew someone who died two millennia ago. "Yes?" I responded, unsure of whether that was the right answer or not.
"Great!" she said enthusiastically, shoving a pamphlet into my hands that said "Jesus Loves Everyone" across the front cover.
"Thanks," I said and gripped the handout close to me, turning around to chance a look at Tristan, quickly.
He was hunched over as he scribbled something for a woman who looked a lot like Zoey's mom and handed it back over to her. He smiled at the woman, moving his lips to say whatever Robby Lingus would say, and then with only his eyes, he looked at me before smiling just as sweetly as he had minutes before.
Two women with platinum blonde hair cut off my view after only a millisecond when they stopped directly in front of me. I tried to move over to look around them before I heard them.
"Doesn't he look like that guy who works with my dad?" one of them asked in a whisper.
"Oh my god, that does look just like him! He just has like, dark hair." The woman talking then gasped. "It can't be him! Can it?"
"What's his name? Travis? Teddy?"
Oh snap.
Chapter 50
I stood there frozen like an icicle. The two girls walked off with a shrug after trying to guess Tristan's name. Maybe I should have said something. I should have done something to keep their minds off trying to guess if he was a father's employee, or trying to determine whether or not he looked familiar but I didn't. I let them walk off while I absorbed their suspicions. I didn't want to risk bringing myself to their attention only to have them remember me in the future. I didn't have glasses and dyed hair to hide behind when I went back to Miami. While I didn't consider myself to be distinguishable and recognizable, I couldn't run the risk that they'd remember my face and connect the dots if they ever saw me with Tristan back home. Realistically, there was always a chance that Tristan's double life could have been discovered at some point. I mean, he'd been in the industry for so many years and had fans, for goodness sakes.
The timing just seemed so off though.
Today was his last day, damn it.
Real life didn't allow things to happen when you expected them or needed them to. Wrong moments, worst timings, and dealing with tough situations were a natural part of life, but I still felt horrible. I knew this was going to stress him out. I knew he was going to worry about the potential outcome of someone possibly recognizing him. While the girls didn't get his name right, there was no doubt that they were on the right track.
I looked over at the dark haired man sitting behind the table, and caught him looking right at me probably recognizing the worried look on my face. His brow furrowed when I mouthed "Later" to him, and then he was busy signing some other artifact the next woman in line was handing him. I was stuck. I knew that I needed to tell him about what I overheard, but the selfish half of me was debating whether to do it as soon as possible, or if I should wait until the weekend was over to lay it on him. If I told him soon it could possibly ruin our weekend because he'd stress. If I waited then I'd feel like a liar and an asshole for keeping something important from him.
I was a terrible liar to begin with.
I'm not sure how much longer I stood there, it was more than likely just a handful of minutes, but I was in my own little world while thinking more and more about the platinum blondes that could ruin my weekend and my favorite person's career. Once I snapped out of it, I caught Tristan stealing glances at me through those dark frames a couple of times with a crease in his forehead. He knew me well enough to be aware that something was bothering me, and I didn't want to distract him from these last minutes as Robby.
With a small wave, I walked away from the booth, looking at people and objects that littered the tables and aisles but not paying attention to anything in detail. It all seemed like a blur. I smiled at people when they smiled at me but a second later his or her face was already forgotten. My nerves were wrapped neatly around my thoughts in a distracting way.
It wasn't until hours later that I realized that people were probably smiling at me so much because of the big lettering on my credential that said "Performer". Shit.
I felt like a robot while I walked around devoid of emotion. The porn convention wasn't like the one in Miami with Nicole, back there I was worried I would see someone I knew. Here I was so far away from the people I knew and grew up with that I could care less to be discreet.
I saw a familiar looking Maya standing by a booth and thought about my Nicole back home. If I would have been in a settled mood I might have taken a picture of her just to piss off one of my dearest friends but I didn't.
After passing what felt like the thousandth booth, I looked at my watch and realized that it was almost eleven and Tristan, or Robby, would be done in no time. Somehow, I managed to loop around without getting lost to where he was at, to find that there were only two women left in line. I stopped at the booth to the right of his and took in the massive, tattooed man who stood there with his arms crossed. There were rows and rows of DVDs packed neatly together on the table with sections that said Anal, Man on Man, Threesomes, Teen, Big Asses, Big Tits, and other words that narrowed down races for you.
"Can I help you with anything?" the deep voice asked.
I looked at his dark eyes, taking in the piercing on his eyebrow and shrugged, smiling. I felt like such a pervert for stopping at the one booth that sold pornos. For a split second, I wondered if there were any Robby videos for sale. "Nah, I'm just looking."
He smiled, flashing big, pearly teeth at me. "I have a wide variety that's not up, so feel free to let me know if you do think of anything. I got some transexual and bestiality, too," he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to mention.
What the fuck? Was he just teasing me? I didn't think I looked like someone who would be into transexuals or some animal action but then again, what exactly did those types of people look like? I'd heard of grannies looking at porn, as disturbing as that seemed to me.
"Uh," I grimaced, shaking my head. "I'm not into that but if you are, then that's cool," I responded with a squeaky voice.
The big man laughed boisterously, shaking his dark, gelled hair. "No way, baby. I like women."
I snorted and put up my hands in front of me, palms forward in surrender. "Whatever floats your boat, I'm not going to judge."
It was when he laughed in response to my joke that I saw the DVD propped up to his left. The familiar looking brown-haired man on the cover instantly reminded me of how long it had been since I'd seen him. Had it been months already? I used to think that he was perfect but now, even though there was no denying he was an attractive, older man, my girly parts just didn't respond the way they used to. Either way....
"How much for one video?" I asked the big guy before even realizing that the words were coming out of my mouth.
He flashed me a sly smirk. "Which one?" I pointed at the video I wanted and he narrowed those dark eyes in my direction. "For you, baby, five bucks. You're the first person to make me laugh today."
The five dollar bill was out of my pocket before he even got the chance to finish answering me. He slipped the DVD into a small, dark bag at the same time I felt a hand grasp my shoulder. I knew it was Tristan before I even turned my head to look at him. The expression on his face was one of confusion as he looked between the big man and the small bag he was handing me. "You ready?" he asked me in that velvet voice I loved.
I nodded and grasped the bag out of the air. "Bye!" I told the man with a grin.
"Bye, baby!" He answered with another deep laugh as Tristan frowned and put an arm around my shoulders.
"How did it go?" I asked him as soon as we were a few feet away from the booth. It didn't escape me that his arm was wrapped tighter around my shoulder than ever before. He steps were slow and steady to let me keep up with his naturally l
"Good," he said simply, looking down at my bag. "I just need to wash my hair out, and then we can head over to the museum."
"Okay."
In no time, we had trailed around the booths and were flashing our laminates at security guards to let us go to the back where we had come from. He dropped his arm from around my shoulder and wrapped his hand around mine, entwining those long, slender fingers through my own. The smile he gave me was the same one from before, all sugar, sweet, and happy. Tristan pulled me in the direction of a large family bathroom that was off to the side. There were more people in the back area than there had been before, which wasn't all too surprising since it was later in the morning by that point.
"Hey Robby!" a voice from the other side of the area belted out.
He stopped and his muscles tensed. Green eyes bore into mine like they were trying to convey some sort of message telepathically before he snapped his gaze over to where the female had called out to him. I felt my stomach do a free fall. It reminded me a lot of the time I went sky diving with Zoey and Josh; the longest thirteen seconds of my life were when I did that tandem jump with a much older man strapped to my back, and it seemed like we were rushing through open air for hours while my stomach floated freely. Dread filled the empty space that my stomach left as I looked in the same direction as well.
There was a pretty redhead, obviously a fake ginger by the hint of dark roots that were growing in, sauntering over to where we stood. He let out a shaky breath followed by a groan when I guessed he recognized the female. "Hey," he muttered in a less than enthusiastic tone.
"How you been, handsome?" she asked, approaching him. Her light gaze hadn't moved in my direction at all, but my eyes were glued to the bouncing monstrosity that her bright pink shirt covered.
"Good. You?" Tristan replied, squeezing my hand.
"Fabulous. I haven't seen you," the way she said the last word made me want to vomit because I caught her eyes wandering to his crotch. "In a very long time."
"Yeah," was the only thing that he responded, squeezing my hand tighter.
Was it too much to ask for him to be an asshole and blow her off? Was I being a bitch for wanting him to tell her to fuck off and put on a bra for baby Jesus' sake? If I wanted to look at tits and nipples I'd look at my own. I wanted him to acknowledge the fact that I was standing right next to him, holding his damn hand while another female ogled him. Another female he had problem been with at some point, hopefully a very long time ago. Ugh. I wasn't sure if the burning sensation in my center was heartburn or what, but I was really craving some Tums right then.
"We should totally talk to our managers and see if we can work together again soon," the redheaded slut practically moaned.
Tristan just nodded, but I could see the clench in his jaw. "Umm..."
I'm not sure where it came from but I reached over and pinched him in the ribs with my free hand. Unfortunately, since he practically had no body fat on his torso, it probably wasn't as effective as I'd hoped but he flinched just a little in response. The redhead at that point turned to look at me, and then at our hands exactly like Walter had done an hour before. My stomach churned, and armpits immediately started sweating in response to her cold stare. Why did it feel like everyone was teaming up against us today?
"I didn't see that you were here with someone," the girl said in a flat voice, talking to Tristan but looking at me.
"I've been standing right here," I said, with a smirk. I'd let him have his moment before with Walter, but I sure as hell wasn't going to let some tramp try to belittle me.
Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hands on her hips. "Okay." She looked back and forth between Tristan, me, and our hands once more before rolling her eyes. "I'll talk to you later then, Robby. Don't forget to talk to your manager." She cast another long glance in my direction, then turned on her heel and walked back to where she'd come from.
My adrenaline was already pumping from my stomachache seconds before when I'd thought that I was going to have to tell this bitch off, so I felt a little frustrated that Tristan didn't bother to change the topic or tell her that he'd quit when he had the chance. With my luck, my face was already red in a blend of anger and frustration at the situation.
Grass green eyes were on me as he bit that full bottom lip of his. "What's wrong?"
I pointed at the restroom we'd been heading toward before the redheaded interruption and pulled my hand out of his. "Nothing," I told him pushing open the heavy door of the room.
"Kat," he said from the same spot he'd been in before. "Are you mad at me?"
I wanted to flick him in the forehead, but all I did was ignore his question. "Didn't you want to wash your hair before we go to the museum?"
He shook his head and gestured in the direction of the exit doors. "I changed my mind. Let's go to the hotel and do it there." His eyes focused on my face. "We have time."
I shrugged and started walking to where we'd entered the building from, careful to keep my hands close to my sides. I knew there was a chance I was being a bitch but I didn't care.
"Kat," Tristan hissed from behind me, taking two long strides to catch up to me. "Kat."
"Let's go, I just want to hurry up and go to the museum." Okay, so maybe I was kind of being a child and a bitch, but my emotions were swirling inside of me so fiercely I couldn't control them. I was pissed and frankly, a whole lot of jealous, but I didn't want to make a scene in front of people. I pushed open one of the glass doors that led outside and at least held it open long enough for Tristan to follow me out.
"Kat!" he called out as I speed walked ahead of him, going toward the rental car. He grabbed my bicep and pulled me around to face him, his eyes were wide and pleading. "Why are you mad at me?"
I couldn't look him in the eye so I settled for shrugging instead like that was an appropriate answer. My feelings were hurt and I was jealous at the stupid, pretty woman who had been with him and was trying to be with him again.
"Are you jealous, sweetheart?" he asked me so quietly I almost didn't hear him. His free hand came up under my chin to tilt my head up. "Kat."
"I'm being stupid," I muttered, not looking up at him even though my face was up.
"Maybe a little," he chuckled, warm breath fanning my face.
I glared at him then, which I realized too late was exactly what he wanted. "You're an asshole."
His smile was sad and sweet like he understood why my anger was directed at him. "I'm sorry you're jealous," his thumb brushed the length of bone that comprised my jaw. "I'm sorry I didn't tell her I quit, but I didn't want to talk to her any longer and have to explain that I wasn't in the industry anymore," he brushed the patch of skin right next to my tragus. "I couldn't remember her name to save my life, if that makes you feel any better."
"Just a wee bit," I admitted with a sigh. It did in fact make sense to me that he didn't want to talk to her any longer, but I did feel a lot better that he couldn't remember her name. He knew me, and that was more than I could say about every other female who had come into his life. It almost completely made me forget that he'd slept with her. Almost. "I'm sorry for being like that."
"It's okay. I'm sure the next time I see that Ryan guy I'll probably act the same way, if not worse." He grinned, and then kissed my forehead.
I snorted, pulling away. "I only kissed him, Mag," I taunted him, walking backward.
His face went blank before he started walking toward me, plump lip between his teeth again. "I didn't know that you'd even done that," he clenched his teeth, and I swear ground them together.
His words struck a chord with my memory, reminding me of the incident earlier with the two women. I knew I needed to tell him right then, but I really didn't want to upset our weekend because I was a selfish bitch. "Speaking of things you don't know, hurry up and get in the car because I need to tell you what happened."
Minutes later, we were in the car heading to the hotel and Tristan was silent. I told him ever
When we were getting really close to the hotel, he let out a shaky sigh. "I don't think I have anything to worry about. My boss thinks his daughter is pretty much a nun, and I really don't think she'd tell her dad that she thinks his employee is in porn," he said. "Imagine that conversation."
Well, when he put it like that it made a lot of sense. I know there was no way in hell I'd ever tell my dad that someone he knew did porn; that would probably be the worst conversation of my life. I'd have to explain why and how I knew. Yeah, no thanks. While I still wasn't assured that she wouldn't say anything, I figured it was pointless to make him think otherwise and just have him stress.