Vidal Funeral Home and Crematorium

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

Solange watched Gwen go with confusion, half wondering if she had somehow insulted the woman. She offered lobster, but then rushed off to make a phone call the second it came time for her sit down? It didn't quite make sense. Of course it was her first instinct to demand Tristan tell her why he hadn't let her know that Gwen was coming in the first place. It made for a slightly embarrassing moment when she stood there holding a suddenly measly looking sandwich while Gwen informed her she had brought lobster for them!

“I didn’t know,” Tristan insisted. “I didn’t even know she was coming over until after you’d left. And I really didn’t know she’d be bringing lobster…!”

She looked at him for a skeptically for a moment but finally let out a long sigh. Okay, maybe it hadn't been Tristan's fault. It wasn't all that hard to imagine that the whole thing had been a sort of last minute surprise. She gave a vaguely apologetic sound before digging her fork into the lobster on her plate.

“We could get candles and flowers out of the viewing room,” Tristan said with a sudden laugh, smiling. “I mean, we’ve got a lobster dinner made by one of Paris’ best chefs. It feels weird to be eating this in the lobby of the funeral home.”

Solange couldn't help but laugh and shake her head. "Tristan Vidal...If didn't know better, I'd say you're asking me on date," she asked with a half grin. She thought for a moment. "You're right though. It does seem a little strange. Candles might be a little much for a lunch but hang on." She ducked out for a second and came back with small thing of white lilies. She placed them on the coffee table in front of them. "There. Looks a little less...sad." The irony that she had gotten them from a viewing room was not lost on her though she cared not comment on it.

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

Solange’s laugh filled the room. Tristan didn’t know if she was laughing at him or with him, but it didn’t matter much. He was as close to being off-the-hook as he could be with Solange. She shook her head.

"Tristan Vidal...” she said at long last. “If I didn't know better, I'd say you're asking me on date."

Tristan stopped laughing. He sat stone still, studying Solange’s half-grin the way an antelope might study the same expression on a leopard. It had sounded like that. But the words “If I didn’t know better” meant that if Tristan was caught, he was being let go this one time. If. Tricky, stupid word “if”. What if Tristan had asked her out? For a real lunch date? What then? Would she be grinning still?

"You're right though,” she said. “It does seem a little strange. Candles might be a little much for a lunch but hang on."

And then Solange left a punch-drunk Tristan to sit alone in the lobby. He didn’t know if this merited celebration – fist-pumping, giddy laughter, the works – or if he should feel like a total moron for skating around asking her out.

Next time, he told himself. Next time, you’ll ask her out.

Maybe if he told himself that enough times, he’d actually close his eyes and take the plunge.

When Solange returned, she had a vase of long-stemmed, white lilies in hand. Tristan smiled at her as she set them up on the coffee table. She struck a chord, actually doing what he’d suggested in half-jest.

"There.” Solange sat back down. “Looks a little less...sad."

“Lilies don’t always symbolize death,” Tristan said.

Every time he went to corner florist for last-minute arrangements, the old man behind the counter regaled him with the meanings of the flowers he was purchasing. Lilies, for example, could be used to symbolize other things. Among them: partnerships, progress, passion.

“They’re perfect. Thanks for humoring me.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

She supposed she should feel a little guilty for borrowing a flower arrangement that someone else had bought as a show of sympathy to the grieving family. But it wasn't like they were stealing it! She had every intention of putting it back in place before the service started in a few hours. The family and the buyer would never know the difference. Besides, they gave the coffee table a better feel to be eating lobster at. It was a nice touch since technically they had company (even if she was busy with a phone call).

She couldn't help but think of the irony that flowers from a funeral made the coffee table less sad to look at. “Lilies don’t always symbolize death,” Tristan said, obviously seeing her slightly amused expression as she looked at the flowers. “They’re perfect. Thanks for humoring me.” She found herself returning the smile he gave her with a surprising ease. After 9 months of working for him, it seemed like things were finally getting to be somewhat comfortable between her and Tristan.

"Of course! It was a nice idea. I'm sure Gwendoline will love it when she gets back," she said with a smile as she pulled the plate back into her lap. She took a bite of the lobster and almost completely melted. It was absolutely delicious! She recalled Tristan mentioning that Gwendoline was a chef, but somehow she hadn't quite been expecting this.

"Oh wow! This is incredible," she said with a half full mouth, covering it with her hand. "Like, I can't even be mad about the sandwich thing anymore because this is so much better! Gwendoline should feel free to stop by any time." A wry smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she went to take another bite.

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

Solange smiled back at Tristan. He considered telling her what else lilies could symbolize. If he was a more debonair sort of guy, he probably could have gotten away with it. But he wasn’t. And Tristan didn’t want to lose the moment.

"Of course!” said Solange. “It was a nice idea. I'm sure Gwendoline will love it when she gets back."

Reality crashed Tristan’s good mood, even though it hadn’t been invited. He looked over his shoulder at Gwen, who was still on her phone. His shoulders slumped a little, but he managed to smile. Without Gwen, they wouldn’t be sitting together with a nice meal in the first place.

“Yeah, I’ll bet she will.”

"Oh wow! This is incredible," Solange mumbled. Tristan looked back at her; she held a hand over her mouth, as if trying to hide the fact that she was talking while eating. Tristan’s smile grew. "Like, I can't even be mad about the sandwich thing anymore because this is so much better! Gwendoline should feel free to stop by any time."

“I’ll let her know,” Tristan said. Then, he stabbed at his lobster and brought it up to his mouth for a taste. His eyes shut almost instantly; swallowing left him with a dull ache for a second bite. Then, calling out over his shoulder, he said, “Gwen… Solange and I took a vote. Your lobster is the best in the city.”

Then, to Solange, he added, “Gwen’s actually a pastry chef at La Tour D’Argent. You should have seen Christmas at her and Torben’s!”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Gwendoline Fontaine

Gwen watched the scene unfold before her eyes and a wicked grin uncurled onto her face. As if she were watching some romantic comedy on mute, Solange and Tristan place flowers out strategically around the lobster lunch. She could stand here and watch this for hours from the sidelines, taking occasional notes for Torben’s reading enjoyment later.

“Gwen… Solange and I took a vote. Your lobster is the best in the city.” Gwen laughed and felt her cheeks grow red. How sweet of them! She leaned against the wall, hitting the dimmer with her shoulder, watching the room darken to a romantic glow that seemed oddly fitting for a fancy lunch in a funeral home.

“Oops!” Gwen exclaimed. “Clumsy me! I don’t know how to fix that…”

She made her way back to them, scooting into her spot on the couch beside Tristan, who was talking more animatedly than she’d ever seen him to Solange. “Gwen’s actually a pastry chef at La Tour D’Argent. You should have seen Christmas at her and Torben’s!”

That wicked grin changed into a toothy, pleasant smile as she leaned in. “Well you can! Next Christmas, come to our place! We’d absolutely love to have you! It’d be perfect!” From the corner of her eye, she could see Tristan’s face contort uncomfortably and Gwen’s smirk only widened, her mission quickly accomplishing itself.

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

Seriously, if Tristan had friends that could cook like this then he should have brought them by a long time ago! The kind of person who brought lobster as a replacement for the typical lunch of sandwiches was more than welcome to stop by the funeral home any time! She made a point of tell Tristan to make sure invite Gwendoline to come around more often.

“I’ll let her know,” he said before taking a bite himself. He suddenly called out over his shoulder. “Gwen… Solange and I took a vote. Your lobster is the best in the city.”

Solange laughed and swatted his arm, shaking her head. "I didn't mean for you to bring it up now! She's on the phone you big oaf," she said teasingly, still laughing softly.

Thankfully it seemed that Gwendoline's phone call had ended. She reappeared with a pleased smile on her face, obviously pleased by the comment. She leaned against the wall near one of the dimmers, hitting it and causing the lights to fade. Solange glanced around at the somber lighting, a bit confused. “Oops!” Gwendoline exclaimed. “Clumsy me! I don’t know how to fix that…”

Before Solange could even bother explaining it, Gwendoline had rejoined them, sitting next to Tristan. “Gwen’s actually a pastry chef at La Tour D’Argent. You should have seen Christmas at her and Torben’s!”

Solange smiled. She could only imagine what that Christmas must have been like. Christmas for her had been spent watching "It's a Wonderful Life" on TV and eating leftover Chinese she had managed to salvage from the fridge. With her grandmother gone she hadn't really felt up to celebrating. Though she supposed if she were to celebrate it would be with people who probably knew how to have a slightly strange but very fun time like Tristan's friends.

“Well you can! Next Christmas, come to our place! We’d absolutely love to have you! It’d be perfect!” Gwendoline said.

For a moment, Solange was confused. Had she seriously just been invited to spend Christmas with them? It was only February after all. She supposed they were anticipating her to stay on as Tristan's secretary which made sense. As far as she was concerned, she probably would still e here come December.

"Thank you. That's very sweet of you," she said with a warm smile. "I will certainly keep the offer in mind." The clock in the lob struck 1 and suddenly she was reminded that there was another reason for her taking such an early lunch. There was still a lot of work to get done. She sped through the rest of the lobster on her plate though tried to savor every bite best she could.

"I'm really sorry. I have to get to work on setting up for the next service at 2," she said. "It was good to see you Gwendoline. Thank you so much for lunch. Again, it really was delicious." She rose and smiled at Tristan. "Go ahead and chat for a bit. I've got it covered," she assured him as she grabbed the lilies and hurried off into the viewing room.

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

When Tristan complimented Gwen’s cooking, Solange reached over and swatted his arm. The motion surprised him, but he couldn’t say he was entirely displeased. He grinned over at her, more than a little c*ck-eyed, as if to ask what he’d done now in a teasing drawl. She was laughing; she laughed more and more frequently these days.

"I didn't mean for you to bring it up now! She's on the phone you big oaf," Solange said, still snickering.

“It was too important to wait,” Tristan said, still grinning. He looked over his shoulder again. Gwen had gotten off the phone and was smiling like she’d heard his compliment. She slid down the wall a little and set the dimmer off. The shadows of the furniture warped and exaggerated oddly.

“Clumsy me! I don’t know how to fix that…” said Gwen.

Tristan chuckled and shook his head. It was just a dimmer; he’d fix it in a minute. It was kind of a nice break from the bright overhead lights or the industrial, glaring fluorescent lights of his embalming room. He looked back at Solange. The faded light caught her cheekbones, sharpening them with shadow. But instead of being caught staring – Tristan was determined to never get caught, not since that night in Batofar – he told Solange what Gwen did for a living, told her about Christmas. Told her ‘you should have seen it’, as if seeing it could halfway compare to the slide of Advocaat down your throat between colorful and flavorful courses.

And then Gwen piped up.

“Well you can! Next Christmas, come to our place! We’d absolutely love to have you! It’d be perfect!”

Tristan couldn’t say he was surprised. Gwen adopted people; she’d adopted him. Christmas had been a hodgepodge of people – blood relatives, friends, and former opera starlets. But Christmas wasn’t for another ten months. Who knew what Solange would be doing by then? Who knew where she’d be? Tristan didn’t dare to hope that they’d all spend the holidays together. Hope was the root of all heartache. Or maybe that was expectation…?


"Thank you. That's very sweet of you," Solange said. She smiled a sweet smile. "I will certainly keep the offer in mind."

Tristan didn’t know if he should smile at Solange, smile at Gwen, or give Gwen the most perplexed “wtf” face he could. He instead settled on smiling at no one in particular and taking interest in his lobster again. The grandfather clock across the room chimed, booming only once. Tristan glanced up; Solange was wolfing down her food so fast, she’d probably get a stomach ache. And then Tristan remembered: the next service was at two. Time waited for no one and nothing. Not even a lobster lunch.

"I'm really sorry,” said Solange when she finished eating. “I have to get to work on setting up for the next service at 2. It was good to see you Gwendoline. Thank you so much for lunch. Again, it really was delicious."

When Solange stood, Tristan did the same, setting his plate of half-eaten lobster down on the table. They had an hour to prepare the viewing room. And though the casket and body were already in place, the personal touches – the paintings on the wall, the chairs, the flowers and candles – needed to be set up. An hour was just long enough to get everything done. But Solange shot him a look that froze Tristan mid-movement. She smiled at him. He wasn’t sure if and when he’d ever get used to that. He really hoped it was soon, because he couldn’t afford to be caught off guard every time she smiled at him. Although he wasn’t complaining about the sunny feeling radiating through him right now.

"Go ahead and chat for a bit,” Solange said. “I've got it covered."

“Thanks. I’ll be in in a minute,” Tristan said.

And then Solange bent at the waist to pick the lilies up off the table. She walked out of the room, her high heeled shoes clicking when she stepped off of the carpet and onto hardwood. Tristan watched her go, leaning against the sofa, tilting his head wistfully. Just because he was determined not to let Solange catch him staring, didn’t mean he never did. This was the second “lunch date” they’d had where they spent time joking, laughing, and genuinely enjoying one another’s company. She left him anticipating next Christmas, left him hungry for the next span of comfortable camaraderie between them. And – admittedly – she left him feeling goosebump-y and tight-throated. His eyes were downcast, dreamy, and slid out of focus when Solange disappeared into the viewing room. And then he remembered with something like horror that he wasn’t alone. The goosebumps on his arms hardened and started to hurt as he turned to face Gwen.

“Don’t say anything,” he said tightly. “Please.”

[Lets_Eat_Paste]

Gwendoline Fontaine

Gwendoline prayed silently to all the gods she could think of alphabetically (Am-heh, Aphrodite, Baal…) that Solange would say ‘yes’ to her Christmas invitation. She could just see it: ten months from now, Solange would knock on the door and Torben would answer and his jaw would drop off its hinge and hit the floor with a bone chilling shatter. Maybe by then she and Tristan would be an official thing. The smile on her face didn’t plan on budging.

"Thank you. That's very sweet of you," Solange said. "I will certainly keep the offer in mind."

Apparently, Gwen’s sacrifice of lobster was not enough to appease the gods because Solange did not give her a definitive ‘yes’. But it was not a concrete and cumbersome ‘no’, either, so perhaps the gods were still out with the jury on it.

Gwen’s heart leaped with a fright as the clock struck one and Solange stood. The brassy bell tone shook her ribcage and psyche and Gwen laughed at her own startle. "I'm really sorry. I have to get to work on setting up for the next service at 2. It was good to see you Gwendoline. Thank you so much for lunch. Again, it really was delicious." Gwen accepted the compliment and the excuse to leave. But she did not watch Solange as she thanked her with her eyes. Instead, out of her peripherals, she watched Tristan’s eyes flicker down the length of Solange’s legs and back up to rest on her skirted rump before turning pink in the ears as he became acutely aware that Gwen watched him.

"Go ahead and chat for a bit. I've got it covered," Solange said and Gwen smiled politely at her, watching her go until the clicking clacks of her high heels fell to silence.

She looked to Tristan, her lips pursed, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Don’t say anything,” Tristan said. “Please.”


“Like what? Don’t say ‘we told you so’ or ‘her eyes are up here’? Is that what you don’t want me to say?” She asked facetiously, a whisper of her raucous laugh on her lips. “Because I wont. Don’t worry, love.”

[blueeyeddevil]

OOC: NEW SCENE!! And an epic one at that.

Solange de Grace

Today was an awful day. After the disaster of last night she hadn't thought things could get worse, but she was completely wrong. Today she not only had a horrible headache from drinking so much and then crying when she got home, when she got to work, she had to pretend like everything was perfectly fine. This was made much more difficult by the fact that she had moved past being sad and on to being angry. Honestly she wasn't quite sure who she was more angry at now. Tristan for leading her on the way he had or herself being too stupid to realize she had feelings for him until it was too late.

Either way, she had been trying to keep it under control. In order to avoid snapping at Tristan or yelling at him, she had resolved to stay as quiet as possible. She probably had said less than ten words to him since she walked in the door this morning. Yes it was quite childish of her to essentially be giving him the silent treatment (speaking only when strictly necessary) but it was the only way she was going to keep from having a complete blow up at him. He'd hurt her way more that she had thought it possible for him to and she still needed some time to be able to cope with it.

The last service had ended not too long ago. She'd done her best to be her usual kind and sympathetic self that she allowed mourners to see. But now they were gone and she sat at her desk, trying to finish up some last minute paperwork and answer some emails before decided to head home. The sound of someone walking through the door made her glance up and she saw Tristan had come back from taking the casket to the gravesite and her stomach felt like it suddenly had rocks in it as it had each time she'd seen him today. She said nothing now, simply glanced at him and then went back to work.

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

Tristan had taken extra care to look his best today. Usually, he settled for “presentable”, but today he was determined to say something to Solange that was more articulate than painting a mural of her in a place she may or may not see or purchasing a flower with layered meaning. He’d spent last night at a wedding he hadn’t wanted to attend with a woman he didn’t like and it hit him that unless he spoke up, he was doomed to that reality forever: A reality in which he wanted Solange so desperately he could see her in the faces of total strangers. Also, a reality where he went home alone to an empty apartment without her around, all because he didn’t know how to say a few little words:

I need you. I care about you. I can’t stop thinking about you.

It would be a huge risk to say them out loud. If Solange wasn’t receptive to them, there was no guarantee she’d stick around. She’d be out of Vidal Funeral Home faster than you could say “sexual harassment lawsuit”. Which was actually quite a mouthful.

But it was a risk Tristan had to take. Even if the chances were slim that she’d say anything back, a slim chance was better than never knowing. But when Tristan came into work that morning, he couldn’t even get Solange to strike up conversation with him. She was terse at best and Tristan didn’t need her to even glare at him to know he’d done something wrong. He didn’t know what, but he’d f*cked up royally in the last twenty-four hours. Unless Solange had a fly-on-the-wall camera, she hadn’t heard the speech he’d prepared in front of his bathroom mirror last night – the melodramatic professions of devotion, the attempts at suavity, the really cheesy pick-up lines that would get him nowhere – so she couldn’t possibly know what was going through Tristan’s brain.

If Gwen was in the country, he would have called her up for advice. But she and Torben were in Holland for the next few weeks, working on adoption papers, and Tristan didn’t want to interrupt. He was left entirely to his own devices here and words were never his strong suit. He spent as much of the day as he could hiding in his embalming room and rehearsing a new speech. The glassy eyed stares he got in return did nothing for his confidence.

When it came time for the morning’s first service, Tristan had been glad to focus on something other than his own thoughts and feelings, which tumbled around in his mind as if on a tilt-a-whirl. But while a priest recited passages from Psalms, all Tristan could think was that he had to say something to Solange, but maybe it could wait until next week when she wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder.

The Solange he wanted to confess his feelings to was the vibrant woman who made him laugh even when he had the mother of all hangovers, the precious cat whisperer who tamed the beast that destroyed his embalming room, the coy temptress who smirked at him with ruby-red lips and called him “baby” and “darling”. He did not want to confess his feelings to the secretary who wouldn’t talk to him and made him feel smaller than he ever had in his whole life by avoiding his gaze.

When he returned to the funeral home after the service, it was eerily silent in the lobby. For a quick, heart-stopping moment, Tristan thought Solange had left. But she was still there, sitting at her desk. She looked up at him and looked down just as quickly. Tristan took a shaky breath and reached to rake a hand through his hair. He’d forgotten it was in a ponytail and only succeeded in making himself look worse. He frowned and walked over to Solange’s desk.

“Okay, so I’m no good at feelings or whatever,” he said. “But if you’re mad at me, just tell me what I did wrong. This silent treatment thing is killing me.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

As Tristan came back in she was determined to look anywhere but at him. She kept her gaze down at her desk but her eyes would keep catching glimpses of the red tipped yellow rose he had given her. It sat in a small vase on her desk, still in bloom. Her heart constricted at the sight of it. That had been such a great day and it was when he had given her that rose that she truly convinced herself that he had feelings for her. That she had believed the mural he had painted of her was more than just a random artists inspiration. Now she wondered bitterly if he had painted a mural of his girlfriend.

It was only when he'd come to stand right in front of her desk that she finally looked up at him again and almost instantly wished she hadn't. His hair was falling out of the ponytail it was in and she felt the urge to brush it back from his face, tuck it behind his ear. His lips were pulled down in a frown and she really just wanted to kiss that frown away. His blue eyes looked down at her, looking confused and hurt and it pained her to see that expression there. It was making it very hard for her to stay mad at him.

“Okay, so I’m no good at feelings or whatever,” he said. “But if you’re mad at me, just tell me what I did wrong. This silent treatment thing is killing me.”

That was the last straw. He honestly had the nerve to act like he didn't know what it was he'd done wrong?! Act like he didn't know that he had played her the fool and stomped on her heart in the process?! Act like there was no girlfriend he'd so conveniently forgotten to tell her about?! She bit her lip as it trembled, throwing the pencil down on her desk as she came around to the other side.

"You want to know what you did wrong?! I'll tell you!"she said angrily. "You broke my heart, that's what! You go and do things like paint murals of me and buy me roses that mean 'falling in love' and make me laugh with cheesy jokes that shouldn't be funny...you make me think you might have actual feelings for me and by doing so make me realize that I have feelings for you too!" She paused and nodded. "Yes, okay?! I admit I have feeling for you! But then I have to go and find out you have a girlfriend?!"

Tears stung her eyes now as she advanced on him. "It just makes me so furious that you would lead me on like that! You had to know what you were doing!" She got close to him, pointing her finger in his face. "I am just so mad at you for making me feel something for you and just...just..."

She was so close to him now, and her tear filled eyes suddenly became focused on his lips. Suddenly she decided she had to know what it felt like...just once. She'd already admitted everything and there really wasn't much more damage she could do. He could fire her after this if he wanted.

Standing on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to meet her lips with his own.

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

When Solange threw her pencil on the desk, Tristan knew he’d picked the wrong day to even try to talk to her. He wanted to inch away slowly, return to his safe-zone in the embalming room and not come back out until Solange was gone for the evening. He’d try this again some other time. He was free on the twelfth of never. That would work for take two of this conversation.

"You want to know what you did wrong?! I'll tell you!"she said angrily. "You broke my heart, that's what! You go and do things like paint murals of me and buy me roses that mean 'falling in love' and make me laugh with cheesy jokes that shouldn't be funny...you make me think you might have actual feelings for me and by doing so make me realize that I have feelings for you too!"

“I—You… What?”

Tristan stared at Solange, unable to form any coherent string of words. He had no idea when he’d had the time to break Solange’s heart – he never wanted to hurt her – but had she just said--? She really picked up on all that?

She said it first?

"Yes, okay?!” Solange shouted. “I admit I have feeling for you! But then I have to go and find out you have a girlfriend?!"

Tristan couldn’t help himself. He started to laugh a disbelieving, relieved laugh. A girlfriend? Him? Tristan didn’t have a girlfriend; the only girl he was interested was currently yelling at him in what had to be the best turn of events in Tristan’s entire life. And now she was inching towards him. She looked deadly, but Tristan almost didn’t care about that part.

“Solange, I don’t—“

"It just makes me so furious that you would lead me on like that! You had to know what you were doing!" she continued, cutting him off swiftly as she pointed her finger right between Tristan’s eyes. Tristan stopped laughing and instead caught himself staring at her lips. They were an angry red against her pale skin. Solange’s top lip glistened with a few teardrops that had rolled their way down. But her lips were so very, very close… "I am just so mad at you for making me feel something for you and just...just..."


Before Solange could finish her thought, she reached up and yanked Tristan down to her, pressing her lips to his. For the last few months, Tristan had wondered what they would feel like, what they would taste like… And now he knew. Solange was exquisite. A little salty and scorching hot. Tristan moaned against her mouth, utterly taken in and lost. His hands tangled up in her hair, pulling her closer to him, deepening the kiss until they were left breathless. When they broke away, as if coming up for air, Tristan wanted to kiss her again and again until he couldn’t feel his lips, until she couldn’t feel hers. Until they were run ragged and too exhausted to do anything more than lie in each other’s arms.

But instead, he cupped her face in his hands and said, “If that’s you mad, I can’t wait to see what you’re like when you’re ‘happy’. Damn. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you, Solange.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

She had acted on pure impulse in that moment, pulling Tristan down into a kiss. She had wanted to know what it was like to kiss him just once and was surprised when he didn't pull away from her. Instead, his lips, surprisingly soft and deliciously warm, moved against her own. She felt his fingers tangle in her hair and shivered delightedly as he gave a low moan. She pressed close to him, her own fingers clutching at the front of his suit jacket, holding on for all she was worth. If he was going to kiss her like that she wasn't going to let him get away that easily.

They finally parted for the sake of air. Her heart was pounding and her head was sort of spinning at the moment. She glanced up at Tristan in confusion as he cupped her face in his hands. Her fingers still gripped his jacket, still trying to make sense of things. “If that’s you mad, I can’t wait to see what you’re like when you’re ‘happy’. Damn. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you, Solange.” he said and her confusion only grew. He'd been wanting to kiss her? What about his girlfriend?!

"What?" she breathed out, taking his hands and pulling them away from her face, though still held them in her own. "Tristan I'm not sure what kind of a person you think I am but I'm not the type of person who goes around breaking up relationships!" She shook her head, looking him in the eye, determined not to look at his lips right now. "You have a girlfriend and you are not breaking up with her over me! Don't try saying things were bad between you and were going to break up anyway! You seemed just fine at the wedding last night."

[The Exodus]

Tristan Vidal

When the kiss had ended, Tristan was more than ready to dive in for a second one and a third. He wanted to try kissing Solange harder, pressing her up against the desk until he could feel her heart pounding against his. He wanted to try kissing her softly; not just on the lips but on the eyes and neck and everywhere. She clung to the lapels of his suit jacket for a fierce moment and then she reached up and seized his hands, pulling them away from her face.

"What?" Solange still held Tristan’s hands, but she didn’t seem to want him touching her. If she was going to get on his case for sending mixed signals… "Tristan I'm not sure what kind of a person you think I am but I'm not the type of person who goes around breaking up relationships!"

“What?” Tristan’s face blanched. Was Solange seeing someone? Already? After Valentine’s Day? She shook her head and met his gaze for only the second time that day.

"You have a girlfriend and you are not breaking up with her over me!” Solange said.

“I don’t have a—“

“Don't try saying things were bad between you and were going to break up anyway! You seemed just fine at the wedding last night."

“I was not just fine at the wedding last night,” Tristan said. “I have never been on a worse blind date in my life! I wouldn’t have even gone if Laurence hadn’t blackmailed me into it.” Then, assuming a nasally, mock-up of his uncle’s voice Tristan said, “ ‘Just go out with Elaine this once, Tristan.’ ‘You owe me, Tristan.’ ‘Stop mooning over your secretary, Tristan.’ It was the only way to get Laurence off my case. About you actually.”

A wry, little grin tipped Tristan’s lips upwards. He reached out and stroked Solange’s cheek.

“You’re the only one I actually want to go out with. I thought I was painfully obvious about it, too.”

[blueeyeddevil]

Solange de Grace

She never would have taken Tristan for the kind of guy that would cheat on his girlfriend; be willing to even. If this was the kind of guy he really was then he was certainly not the guy she had found herself falling for. She wasn't going to let him deny that he had a girlfriend either. Solange had told him not to bother lying because she had seen the two of them last night everything had seemed just fine between them.

“I was not just fine at the wedding last night,” Tristan insisted. “I have never been on a worse blind date in my life! I wouldn’t have even gone if Laurence hadn’t blackmailed me into it.” His voice was mocking now. “ ‘Just go out with Elaine this once, Tristan.’ ‘You owe me, Tristan.’ ‘Stop mooning over your secretary, Tristan.’ It was the only way to get Laurence off my case. About you actually.”

Wait... blind date? Blackmailed? Just this once? Suddenly it was all making sense to her now. Elaine was the one who was lying the whole time. She honestly felt like an idiot for not having considered that long before now. She wanted to laugh with relief and then be mad over how stupid she had been all at the same time.

She looked up to see a small grin turning up the corners of his lips as his hand softly brushed her face. “You’re the only one I actually want to go out with. I thought I was painfully obvious about it, too.” he told her, plain and simple.

She smiled and gave a soft laugh. "Well, actually saying so out loud might have made things a litle more clear," she teasingly accused. She reached to tuck the bit of his hair that had come loose back behind his ear, looking up at him. "And it probably would have prevented this whole crazy person act."