Everyone chatted comfortably over dinner, and many toasts were given in Heather’s honor.
Afterward, when everyone had eaten their fill, and the bill paid, Heather stood up and looked around the table. “Who wants to go dancing?”
Lisa looked at Tristan’s face and could tell he wasn’t very excited about the prospect of dancing but, forcing a smile, he agreed to go along.
"Are you coming, Lisa?" he asked. “Come on. I have to suffer through this, so do you.”
Lisa shrugged and nodded. “Okay. I’ll go for a bit.”
Pepperman’s was hopping as the group walked in. Shuffling through the hordes of people, they managed to find a table on the other side of the dancefloor and quickly took their seats.
“Does it have to be so loud?” Tristan said, making a face.
“Oh, stop it,” Heather said, bouncing to the beat of the music. “Don’t be such a wet blanket. Come on, dance with me,” she pulled Tristan up out of his chair and dragged him to the dancefloor.
Lisa laughed as she watched Tristan try to enjoy himself before he managed to escape and head back to the table. Heather vanishing in the crowd.
“Whew! I’m getting too old for this,” Tristan panted, trying to catch his breath. “Not my type of music at all.”
Lisa smiled. “I know what you mean. Where’s Heather gone?”
“Oh, I left her on the dancefloor with Troy and her friends. I can’t keep up with them.”
Lisa finished her wine and looked around. "I think I'm going to get going."
“Do you have your car?” Tristan said.
“No, I took a taxi to the restaurant. My car is in the shop," Lisa said, grabbing her purse.
“Look, I’m ready to go too. Why don't I just go get Heather, and we can drive you home. I don’t want you taking a taxi at this time of night,” Tristan said, standing up.
Lisa watched as he walked to the dancefloor and interrupted Heather, who was dancing very close to Troy. Lisa couldn’t help but wonder if something was going on between those two, but shrugged the ill-feeling off, knowing how much Heather loved Tristan.
“Okay, Heather is going to stay, and Troy said he would drive her home. I’ll take you home, then I'm heading home myself," Tristan said as he put on his sports jacket.
“Are you sure?” Lisa said, grabbing her purse. She hadn’t wanted to say anything to spoil Heather’s night, but she was relieved to be leaving. Dance clubs had never been her style.
As he pulled up to Lisa's apartment, Tristan was just finishing his story of the weird lady he had shown a house to that week.
“Oh my God, that must have been so annoying," Lisa said, laughing. “Would you like to come up for a coffee and a piece of apple crumble?”
“You have apple crumble,” Tristan said, narrowing his eyes in mock resentment. “and you never mentioned anything to me?”
Lisa laughed. “With ice cream.”
“Sold,” Tristan said, parking the car. “Coffee and dessert it is.”
Walking into Lisa’s apartment, Tristan looked around. “You have a really nice place. Have you ever considered staging as a career?”
Lisa shook her head. “Nope, but my roommate Fay said that very thing when she first walked in here.”
“Roommate?”
“Yeah, she’s a good friend and hardly ever here. It works out perfectly.”
Tristan nodded, taking a seat at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. “It’s one thing to have your place looking welcoming and comfortable, but not too crowded. You’ve really captured that.”
“What? The welcoming or the crowded?” Lisa teased as she spooned apple crumble into two bowls while the coffee was brewing.
“Ha, good one. No, I mean the welcoming. I feel at home here,” Tristan said. “Heather knows nothing about decorating.”
“Yeah, she never really did. I remember her apartment before you guys lived together,” Lisa said with a chuckle, putting a bowl of crumble and ice cream in front of Tristan.
Stirring her coffee, Lisa watched as Tristan took a spoonful of dessert and closed his eyes as if savoring the taste.
“Oh, that’s good. You made this?”
“Yep. My mother's secret recipe,” Lisa said. “Thanks for the drive home.”
“That’s fine. I’ll do anything for this," he said, pointing to his already empty bowl.
“So, does it bother you that you left Heather with her trainer?” Lisa asked casually.
“Not really. I know Heather, and she would never do anything to hurt me, plus he's gay, so wouldn't be interested in her anyway,” Tristan shrugged.
Lisa smiled, making a mental note to talk to Heather. There was something up, and she was going to find out what it was. No matter what.
Chapter 8
“So, what’s up with this Troy guy?” was the first thing Lisa asked Heather when they met the following Saturday for coffee.
“What do you mean? He’s just my trainer,” Heather said, stirring her coffee.
“Well, for one, he’s in very good shape and two, he looked at you in a very special way,” Lisa said. “Is there something going on?”
Heather shook her head, biting her lower lip. “Of course not.”
“Come on, Heather. I’ve known you long enough to know when you are keeping something from me.”
Heather sighed and pursed her lips. “We kissed.”
Lisa almost spat her coffee out. She had expected Heather to say something like he likes me, or I’m attracted to him, but not that. “What do you mean you kissed? When?”
“A few weeks ago. Just once.” Heather said, tears suddenly filling her eyes.
Lisa didn’t know whether to feel sorry for her or angry about how she was treating Tristan. “Why? Are you and Tristan having problems?”
“No, everything is fine with Tristan and me. But lately, I don’t know, I’ve just been feeling lonely,” Heather said weakly.
"So, instead of talking to Tristan about it, you kissed someone else?”
“Why are you mad at me? I thought you were my friend.”
“Tristan loves you, Heather. He idolizes you. That night we left you at the dance club, he drove me home, and he came up for a coffee. All he talked about was you. How proud he was of you. How much he loved you. Please don’t tell me that night you ended up screwing Troy too.”
Heather sobbed as she looked at her friend. “No, that night, Troy just drove me home. After we kissed, I told him that it would never happen again. It was just a mistake. We both agreed we wouldn’t mention it ever again.”
Lisa looked at her friend. “I don't know, Heather. I don’t understand why you would do that. Tristan is such a sweetheart.”
“He is,” Heather sniffed. “He really is, and in the bedroom, he's fantastic. He satisfies me totally, in every way, but Troy’s kiss really affected me.”
Lisa grimaced. The last thing she wanted to hear was how great Tristan was in the bedroom, especially when she already had fantasies about him, but she would never let Heather know that. “You have to tell Tristan if you want to clear your conscience. Seriously. Plus, you have to stay away from Troy.”