A Game With The Billionaire

Chapter 18:

Charlotte:

“Charlotte, what’s wrong? You seem different.” Chloe, my triplet sister, comments looking at me. She has a way of looking at someone which is very scary; sometimes I think that she can read deep into my soul.

“Chloe’s right,” my other sister, Clara, adds softly. Out of us three, she’s the calmer one. “Is anything wrong?”

“It’s just work.” I wave my hand, trying to dismiss the topic. I stare around Imperial Restaurant. Once a week. We always try to make time to spend together, especially now that everyone is so busy. Because my sisters know me so well, they know I am lying.

“That’s bullshit.” Chloe looks me deadly in the eye. “You’re lying, spit it out.”

Clara looks at me expectantly and I sigh, they would always get the truth straight of me, leaning in, I say. “So, I met a guy and I almost had a one night stand with him. I felt a connection with him.”

“Yes!” Chloe exclaims, “It’s high time you met a guy. You have always been going to these parties, and flirting with guys.”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. My sisters love me very much and they want what’s best for me but sometimes it’s like they are trying to tell me how to live my life.

We might look like triplets but our personalities couldn’t be any more different. While I am more extroverted and like to spend a long day after working in the bar and flirting with guys, Chloe is more on the ambivert side and Clara is highly introverted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, a bit offended that they think I am the kind that likes going to parties and flirting with guys. The smile on Chloe’s face drops into a grimace and like always, Clara sweeps in to save the day.

“What Chloe is trying to say is that, uh....You aren’t the relationship type, maybe it’s time to find someone?”

It isn’t supposed to hurt, they are just trying to help but I won’t lie that it doesn’t sting. While my family knows that I am not the ‘settle’ kind of person, they shouldn’t have to point it out every time. “That’s easy for you to say, you’re married to the love of your life and Chloe is currently dating someone.”

“Charlotte, we didn’t mean it like that.” Chloe pipes in. “We’re sorry if we offended you, please. I will send your favourite bowl of ice-cream to your house later on.” And just like that, all is forgiven.

“Now tell us about this love interest of yours.” Clara says and I spend the next minutes telling them all about Tristan, when I am done, they have the look of confusion on their faces.

“What’s the big deal?” Chloe asks, eyeing me. “It’s obvious that you like him, so why not go for him? I mean, the love is staring right at you in the face.”

Why don’t I want to go for him? I guess a part of me is scared of letting someone in aside from my family. The act of being vulnerable with someone is what makes me afraid. I don’t think I can bear to put my heart in someone’s hand and hope that they don’t smash it. That’s why I stick to parties, low key flirting because I don’t have to be vulnerable.

Tristan seems really great and I know he was confused on why I chose to ignore him, he double cornered me in the snack room but I acted oblivious and walked out straight away.

“I am just not ready.” I opt for the best answer; Chloe and Clara look at me in what I presume to be pity. “Maybe when I am, then I’ll give it a shot.”

Clara nods hurriedly. “It’s hard to let someone in because once you do, they have the power to squash you.” There’s a level of kindness in her eyes, my sister went through a toxic friendship that went on for so many years and only ended last year and I know it has been incredibly hard for her to trust people but she’s learning to be bold again, especially with her husband by her side. She’s trying to tell me to do the same.

I chat some more and after way too many bottles of wine, I slump heavily into my car. Socializing with my sisters always leaves me feeling tipsy and tired. All I want now is a dip in my tub, and a nap. The perk that comes with being an influencer is that I have a really flexible schedule.

My phone rings as I drive out of Imperial Restaurant. When I see my mother’s picture flashing on the screen, concern grips me. My mother, like any other CEOs, is a busy woman, always on trips, meetings and events but nevertheless, she still loves us all equally and makes time for us all whenever she’s available.

“Hi, mom.” I say when the call connects through the Bluetooth speaker.

“My darling, where are you?” My mother’s gentle voice resounds through the speakers. She’s more reserved like Clara, while Chloe and I are more like our father.

“Driving home, why?” I ask.

“Well, I am free today, why don’t you come over and have lunch with me? Your father is also around and there’s a friend I met today at an event, let’s eat together.”

My first thought is to decline because I am heavily tired but this is my mother, she’s rarely available and when she is, she always tries to spend her time with us even when she should be resting.

“You know what? I am on my way.” I say as I take a turn that leads to my parent’s house.

“Mr. Hilton.” On arrival, I say to my father who’s standing in the hallway, I outstretch a bottle of pinot noir that I stopped on my way to get.

“Charlotte and her jokes,” my father says drily. Sometimes, what I feel I can’t tell my sisters, I tell my father instead, we’re more alike than ever except for the fact that he has always been family-oriented and I, not so much.

“Where’s mom?” I ask as I remove my shoes, because that’s the rules. Being in my childhood homes always bring back bittersweet memories even though most times we were left to the nanny’s care but our mother always went out of her way and baked pastries on Christmas’ eve, we would exchange hand-written notes to each other.

There were fun days like family game nights and family vacations and sure there were lonely days, but I like to think those fun days outshined the lonely days.

“In here!” My mother calls from the kitchen. Sure, my parents have never been extravagant with their money even though they're crazy rich, since my father’s favourite quote is ‘love over money, any day.’ That’s easy to say when you’re stinkin’ rich.

I go to the dining room and stop in my tracks when I see who’s seated on the table; it’s no other than Tristan! What’s he doing here? Is he the friend my mother said she made at an event?

“Isn’t he so handsome?” My mother whispers coyly behind me but her words blur because all I am staring at is Tristan who’s seated ever so humbly inside my parents’ houses, his jet-black hair falling over his forehead, making way for his striking icy-blue eyes.

He’s wearing a gray sweatshirt and joggers, there’s no way in hell he has made himself comfortable here. I know that my parents are very accommodating but how can they invite a total stranger for lunch?

Our eyes connect and it takes everything in me to act like all of this doesn’t affect me. Keeping a cool face, I say. “Oh, who’s this?”

“Tristan Hart.” My mother chirpily says and all the blood rushes from my face. He’s a Hart?! Why didn’t he even try to mention this at the party? Of course, it seemed like vital information. No wonder he’s here, it dawns on me now that my mother is trying to play matchmaker.

My whole family knows that I don’t do relationships.

“Nice to meet you.” I politely nod and he raises a brow as though he’s amused at my complete lack of emotion when I see him.

“Let’s eat!” My mother announces. Soon the table is filled with sorts of food, chicken pot pie, steamed bread, a bowl of broth and our classic family wine. My father talks throughout, chipping in about his business and mentioning random things that happened during his week, mom talks about her business trips to which Tristan chips in.

After lunch, I stand up, feeling uncomfortable but the truth is I will rather be anywhere but here. I offer to do the dishes and to my utmost surprise, Tristan wants to lend a helping hand.

“Nonsense,” my mother says. “You’re our guest.”

“I can’t just sit still after I ate such delicious food. The least I can do is help out.”

“Wow, you’re so nice, Tristan.” She says, smacking my father’s arm lightly. “Such husband material, right?” her eyes are gleaming wickedly at me but I choose to ignore it and head to the kitchen to settle the dishes.

I can feel his presence behind me. “Whatever it is you want to say, just spill it out now.”

He breathes heavily, joining me beside the sink. I can almost feel his heat radiating towards me. Goodness, since when have I been this flustered?

“You act like you don’t know me,” his words drip off...hurt? “Twice.”

I wince, aware of the accusation that is being laid on me. “Look, Tristan. You seem nice and all, but I am sorry, that was all it was. A one night stand that didn’t happen...so basically, we’re strangers.” He parts his mouth to say something but I beat him to it. “No, we can’t explore whatever this is. No, we can’t be friends, and no, we should have no business together in the near future.”

Awkward silence descends between us, but after a while, he nods, jaws tight. “Alright.”

“Good,” I whisper, ignoring the tug settling in the pit of my stomach. In silence, we work on the dishes together and after, I leave the house, feeling no less better than when I walked in.