As they stepped through the front door, Jean-Pierre rushed out of the kitchen. He also wore shorts but with a plain white T-shirt. His beard was, as ever, immaculately trimmed and his dark brown hair swept back from his head in a graceful wave. “You are here!” He pulled her into a warm hug, then kissed her cheeks. “At last.” He smirked as he stepped back.
“I know, I know.” Carmen held up her hands. “But better late than never.”
“Très vrai .” He smiled and motioned for her to follow him to the living area, where the coffee table was covered with delicious-looking plates of savoury pastries, cheese, and crudités.
Within minutes Carmen had her shoes kicked off, a glass of champagne in her hand, and two handsome men sitting beside her with deep frowns on their faces.
“You look so down.” Jean-Pierre took her free hand and held it lightly. “What’s wrong?”
There was no point in trying to pretend she was all right—she’d seen herself in the mirror that morning and knew how big the bags were under her eyes, how wan her skin looked. And that was after she’d put concealer on.
“I’m not sure where to start.” She leaned back against the sofa and took a quick sip of her champagne.
“Is it work?” Tristan asked.
“Partly.” She blew out a breath. “Yes, that’s definitely playing its part. I’m working on a new business model, and the transition phase is a little tricky. I’m letting go of about twenty clients, and some of them are not going to be happy about it. So I’ve been meeting with my lawyer to make sure everything is above board and there can be no comeback.”
“While I’m not unhappy to hear you’re reducing your workload, please tell me dropping these clients will actually achieve that? You’re not going to replace them with twenty more, are you?”
“No, I’m not. I promise. The idea is to take them out of the equation so that I can then focus on the key clients. Maybe take on one or two more of those to compensate for the loss, but definitely no wholesale replacement.”
“Thank God.” Tristan squeezed her forearm. “The last two years it’s been hard to watch from afar as you’ve run yourself into the ground.”
“I love what I do. So of course I was going to work hard at it. But yes,” she said when he made to interrupt, “even I can now accept it was getting a little out of hand.”
Her brother grinned and raised his glass. “Here’s to a new Carmen, one who can actually have a social life. Or maybe even a little romance.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Carmen’s long sigh caused the amused look to slide off his face. “Maybe not that last part,” she said softly, annoyed to feel tears welling.
“What?”
“I’m having a little disaster in that area at the moment. I think it’s safe to say that romance will be the furthest thing from my mind for the foreseeable future.”
“Who is he?” Tristan narrowed his eyes. “Want me to track him down and have the ‘don’t you dare hurt my sister’ talk?”
She tried to laugh, but it didn’t get very far. “Her name is Ash, and no. But thanks anyway.”
Tristan’s eyes bulged. “Her ? Wait a minute, that tattooist?”
Carmen took a fortifying sip of champagne before answering. “Yes. Her. Top this up, and I’ll tell you all.”
Tristan nearly fell over his own feet in his rush to get to the bottle on the table.
Over the next hour—and into a second bottle of champagne—Carmen told them everything.
“And you never had any attraction for women before? At all?” Tristan asked.
“Not at all.” She shrugged. “I don’t begin to understand this, but I know I’m not alone. Those articles Maggie sent me made that perfectly clear.”
“And is it just her? What I mean is, if this really is over before it started with Ash, do you think you would continue dating women?”
Carmen’s mind whirled. “I honestly don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’ve been so wrapped up in her and what I hoped we could have.” She paused, opening her mind to the question. “I don’t think I can discount it. Now I’ve met a woman like her, one who does make me feel all the things I feel, then quite possibly I will continue dating women. Or at least have that as an option. Does that make me bi? I don’t know.” She shook her head. “All I know is I can’t think beyond her right now. It’s all still too raw. She’s who I wanted, and it can’t happen. So I need to regroup, concentrate on work again for a little while to keep me occupied, and then we’ll see.”
“And you are sure she’s not interested in you?” Jean-Pierre asked.
“As sure as I can be. Mostly.” She groaned. “I don’t know. Felicity is convinced Ash feels something.”
“Ash could just be scared.” Jean-Pierre’s kind hazel eyes held her startled gaze. “I have a theory that might explain her reaction, her words. It happened to me, and I know many other gay people who have experienced the same thing so…” He rubbed his fingers across his chin. “Perhaps someone used her as a little, um, experiment in the past.”
“Experiment?” Carmen frowned. “To satisfy some curiosity, you mean?”
“Exactly.” Tristan sat forward. “I’ve had that too.” He turned to Jean-Pierre. “How come we never talked about this before?”
Jean-Pierre laughed. “We probably wanted to forget it all.”
“That’s true.”
“Wait, you’ve both had men initiate something with you just because they were curious?”
“Oh yes.” Tristan rolled his eyes. “Mine was a colleague, about ten years ago. Took me out to dinner, ordered champagne, the whole works. I honestly thought I’d found my dream man. And then he hit me with the sucker punch. ‘I’m married, but I’ve always wondered…’.” He shuddered. “Ugh, gross.”
“Oh my God.” Carmen stared at them both. “That’s what Ash thinks I’m doing?”
Jean-Pierre held up one finger. “Maybe. It is only
