She inhaled a little, eyes flashing. “It’s a woman’s right to change her mind.” She leaned closer to whisper. “Let me change yours, Ty-lair.”
“You can’t. Excuse me.” He stepped back before she could press her case and changed the subject. “What restaurant are you going to?”
She named it, her tone sullen.
“It’s great,” he said, making his tone official. “You’ll love it. I hope you have a wonderful evening and a good trip back to Paris.”
Ty smiled thinly and retreated to the office, not looking back when Giselle exhaled a hiss of frustration. He heard her tap her toe but ignored her. He shut the door behind himself and surveyed the files strewn on the desk, unable to escape the sense that Shannyn had gotten away.
And that he didn’t like it one bit.
Ty-lair.
There was nothing like a little compare-and-contrast to take the bounce out of Shannyn’s step. Or a walking talking reminder of the fact that Tyler had a revolving door on his bedroom. One thing hadn’t changed in twelve years.
Which just meant she was right to insist they never were together again.
Of course, she wanted more. It had been good. It had been great. Sex with Tyler had been better than all her college fantasies.
And then some.
But she was not going to be seduced.
Shannyn sat on the subway, her messenger bag cradled in her lap. She could feel the weight of her camera and held it safely captive. She knew she should think about work, maybe review her shots and upcoming schedule, but it was impossible not to think about the glamorous Giselle. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Giselle had a whole lot in common with the women Tyler had dated in college, and was also the exact opposite of Shannyn. The other woman’s arrival, and her familiarity, was a timely reminder that Shannyn’s fake date with Tyler was a step outside his usual preferences.
It also was an emphatic reminder that theirs had been a one-off.
Shannyn had just surprised him. Tyler was a healthy male, so wasn’t going to turn down sex, but he wouldn’t have chosen Shannyn of his own volition.
Very cute.
Shannyn bit her lip, remembering exactly the way he’d murmured that. Had it been a line? He’d made it sound good. He had remembered her. She’d melted a little—well, more than a little—at his admiration.
Maybe he’d decided right away to change her mind about him, to make her reconsider that old insult. A personal challenge.
As long as he never guessed why she’d really said it. She’d been more insulted and hurt than convinced of his bad character.
Shannyn knew she should be glad that Giselle had turned up. That woman’s arrival had made it easier to leave.
But Giselle’s elegance did make her think. Giselle and Tyler looked like a couple in a way that Shannyn and Tyler never would. Tyler was probably right that his family wouldn’t believe his wedding date with Shannyn was plausible.
Maybe she should go for dinner with him and study.
Maybe he had a point.
Maybe her sucker heart was softening right on cue. He’d been a thoughtful and thorough lover, one who made his partner’s satisfaction a priority.
Any woman could be seduced by that, even if it was an act.
She probably was supposed to be.
Shannyn refused to play by Tyler’s rules or meet his expectations. He said he had no time for a relationship. She didn’t want one. They wouldn’t have one. It was perfectly blissfully simple.
If only she hadn’t liked it so much that Tyler had recognized the Austen reference. They hadn’t studied Austen in that English Lit class—it had been about the 19th century romantic poets, but the words were apt anyway. No doubt his female relatives agreed with Lizzie’s mother. A showy break-up at the wedding would be like throwing him to the wolves.
She couldn’t help thinking that might be kind of fun. There was something deeply satisfying about seeing Tyler exasperated, never mind being responsible for it. He was so in command of his life and himself, managing all the details to achieve exactly what he wanted. It was tempting to prove to him that life was full of surprises for most people, and that the best laid plans could go astray. It was Shannyn’s experience that the worst possible scenario would manifest at the worst possible moment, regardless of plans to the contrary—Giselle’s arrival was a good example.
No doubt the two of them were cooing at each other over some fancy meal in a chic restaurant.
And after that?
Shannyn really didn’t want to think about it.
She had no reason to think about it.
But she did.
The subway car wasn’t crowded, although it was full. The majority of seats were taken but no one was standing, and there was a pervasive smell of wet clothing. The train rocked on the long runs between stations, picking up speed, and Shannyn found herself remembering those English Lit classes. In a way, she admired Kyle and Tyler’s strategy. It had been college. Rampant hormones combined with a newfound sense of freedom for many students meant lots of sport sex. For two guys to register for a class where they were bound to be outnumbered by women was clever.
She wondered whose idea it had been. Tyler, the strategist, or Kyle, the man-whore. Or had they met in that class? Shannyn didn’t know.
The other girls had talked about them, of course. There had been a lot of compare-and-contrast. Kyle was quick and funny, a talker, good for a laugh. Tyler was slower and more intense. Some preferred one and some the other, but there were no second dates. Sometimes there weren’t even dates at all, just sex. To their credit, there had been no suggestion that it might be otherwise. She had a vague recollection that Kyle had been vastly busier than Tyler—but then, Tyler would have been studying to ace his courses. Work, work, work. She’d always had the sense that Kyle floated through life on his charm.
Of course, Tyler didn’t know that he’d been Shannyn’s crush. She’d tried to sit near him, put herself in his path, to be noticed in some way, and she’d been sure he was oblivious to her presence. It made sense in a way. The girls he’d picked had been similar in more than looks. They laughed at the right moments and said the right things. They had the polish of those who grew up with money. There were no doubts, certainly no lack of confidence.
Her mom always said that moneyed people stuck to their own.
Which didn’t include Shannyn. She’d known from the first moment she stepped on campus that she was an outsider. She’d worked three jobs the previous summer and saved every penny. It had been her dad’s dream that she go to college, because she was the smart one, but that didn’t mean his widow had the funds to pay for it. They’d all worked hard to make it happen.
Shannyn supposed her dad would have been glad that she’d married well, at least for a while. She’d married straight out of college, abandoning her masters and her goal of teaching and even a church wedding, because Cole had wanted it that way. She’d been an idiot to give up so much for love and romance. Live and learn.
She’d never give up anything for a man again. Her heart was off the market forever.
She’d been surprised that Tyler had been so perceptive about her goals in college. It was strange to realize that he’d been protective of her, a virtual stranger, when she’d thought he couldn’t have cared less.