Remember When 3: The Finale (Remember Trilogy #3) by T. Torrest Page A
Authors: T. Torrest
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haven’t you?”
Lis finally copped to her crime. “Just once, I swear! Pick had some UCLA event and it was held at the TRU . We had to go.”
When I didn’t speak, she was forced to fill in the empty space.
“Trip hadn’t even moved out there at the time! This was back in like ’92 or ’93. I would have told you if we saw him.”
Still, I remained silent.
“Fine! I’m a traitorous whore! Happy now?”
That made me laugh. “Very. Now put one of your kids on the phone.”
Chapter 13
THE PERFECT MAN
At seven o’clock , the front desk rang my room to let me know that Mr. Bishop had arrived. I grabbed my handbag and made my way downstairs. But when the elevator doors opened, Trip wasn’t there waiting for me. I took a lap around the lobby, but I still didn’t see him. I figured he was using the bathroom or something and took a seat on one of the sofas, figuring he’d find me eventually. But after five whole minutes, he was still nowhere to be found.
I approached the front desk and asked, “I received a call that Mr. Bishop was here?”
The attendant behind the desk offered a knowing smile as he said, “Ah, yes, Mrs. Bishop . He requested that you meet him out front.”
I thanked him and headed out the front entryway.
And right there at the curb was my gorgeous boyfriend, wearing cuffed jeans, arms crossed over his chest… and leaning against a red Porsche.
Sixteen Candles ! I positively melted. I put my hand over my heart and said, “Jake Ryan! You Jake Ryaned to pick me up tonight!”
The scene would have been perfect if Trip didn’t look so annoyed. “Christ! What took you so long? I’ve only been standing out here like a jackass, holding this pose for like an hour.”
I bounded down the few steps and crossed the sidewalk that separated us, sidling up to his chest and slipping a hand around his neck. His “anger” broke at that, and I watched his lips twitch, trying to contain a smile as I slid my fingers into the back of his hair and said, “Oh my God please just whisper yeah you for me. I think I’ll die.”
He lost the battle with his smile as his face cracked into a wide grin. “ Yeah, you have way too big a crush on that guy. Yeah, you are really making me jealous right about now.”
I pecked him on the cheek and said, “ Yeah, you are like the cutest thing ever. Even if you forgot the sweater vest.”
“ I drew the line at the sweater vest.”
“Well, now my night is just completely ruined!” I joked.
He just rolled his eyes and opened the car door for me.
I slipped into the passenger seat and sank into the soft, white leather as Trip made his way to the driver’s side. I ran my hand over the dash, asking, “Is this your car?”
Trip started the engine with a glorious, retro rumble. “Nope. Borrowed it from a friend.”
I looked at him questioningly. “You happ en to have a friend that just happens to own an antique Porsche?”
“Yep.” He buckled his seatbelt and slid on a pair of shades. “It’s Paul Newman’s.”
My mouth gaped open as he put the car in gear and we took off down Wilshire Boulevard.
The restaurant Trip chose was not at all what I was expecting. I’d thought we were going to go to some fancy-schmancy eatery where there’d be celebrities at every other table. Where he took me instead was an off-the-beaten-path Mexican place out in Encino. I don’t know why I was surprised. It was such a Trip thing to do.
He surrendered the keys to the valet, along with a fifty dollar bill. He saw the look I shot him at that, put his hand at the small of my back, and escorted me into the restaurant, explaining, “I’m not taking any chances with that thing,” which just made me laugh.
As soon as we were in the front door, I fell in love with the place. Every cheesy, Mexic an cliché was on full display,
Lis finally copped to her crime. “Just once, I swear! Pick had some UCLA event and it was held at the TRU . We had to go.”
When I didn’t speak, she was forced to fill in the empty space.
“Trip hadn’t even moved out there at the time! This was back in like ’92 or ’93. I would have told you if we saw him.”
Still, I remained silent.
“Fine! I’m a traitorous whore! Happy now?”
That made me laugh. “Very. Now put one of your kids on the phone.”
Chapter 13
THE PERFECT MAN
At seven o’clock , the front desk rang my room to let me know that Mr. Bishop had arrived. I grabbed my handbag and made my way downstairs. But when the elevator doors opened, Trip wasn’t there waiting for me. I took a lap around the lobby, but I still didn’t see him. I figured he was using the bathroom or something and took a seat on one of the sofas, figuring he’d find me eventually. But after five whole minutes, he was still nowhere to be found.
I approached the front desk and asked, “I received a call that Mr. Bishop was here?”
The attendant behind the desk offered a knowing smile as he said, “Ah, yes, Mrs. Bishop . He requested that you meet him out front.”
I thanked him and headed out the front entryway.
And right there at the curb was my gorgeous boyfriend, wearing cuffed jeans, arms crossed over his chest… and leaning against a red Porsche.
Sixteen Candles ! I positively melted. I put my hand over my heart and said, “Jake Ryan! You Jake Ryaned to pick me up tonight!”
The scene would have been perfect if Trip didn’t look so annoyed. “Christ! What took you so long? I’ve only been standing out here like a jackass, holding this pose for like an hour.”
I bounded down the few steps and crossed the sidewalk that separated us, sidling up to his chest and slipping a hand around his neck. His “anger” broke at that, and I watched his lips twitch, trying to contain a smile as I slid my fingers into the back of his hair and said, “Oh my God please just whisper yeah you for me. I think I’ll die.”
He lost the battle with his smile as his face cracked into a wide grin. “ Yeah, you have way too big a crush on that guy. Yeah, you are really making me jealous right about now.”
I pecked him on the cheek and said, “ Yeah, you are like the cutest thing ever. Even if you forgot the sweater vest.”
“ I drew the line at the sweater vest.”
“Well, now my night is just completely ruined!” I joked.
He just rolled his eyes and opened the car door for me.
I slipped into the passenger seat and sank into the soft, white leather as Trip made his way to the driver’s side. I ran my hand over the dash, asking, “Is this your car?”
Trip started the engine with a glorious, retro rumble. “Nope. Borrowed it from a friend.”
I looked at him questioningly. “You happ en to have a friend that just happens to own an antique Porsche?”
“Yep.” He buckled his seatbelt and slid on a pair of shades. “It’s Paul Newman’s.”
My mouth gaped open as he put the car in gear and we took off down Wilshire Boulevard.
The restaurant Trip chose was not at all what I was expecting. I’d thought we were going to go to some fancy-schmancy eatery where there’d be celebrities at every other table. Where he took me instead was an off-the-beaten-path Mexican place out in Encino. I don’t know why I was surprised. It was such a Trip thing to do.
He surrendered the keys to the valet, along with a fifty dollar bill. He saw the look I shot him at that, put his hand at the small of my back, and escorted me into the restaurant, explaining, “I’m not taking any chances with that thing,” which just made me laugh.
As soon as we were in the front door, I fell in love with the place. Every cheesy, Mexic an cliché was on full display,
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