Mr. Notting Hill (Mister) - Page 10

I couldn’t think of anything more right than this evening. If I’d been looking for a date, this one might be as perfect as it got.

Once our starters were cleared away, I shouldn’t have been surprised when the waiter placed a plate of chicken parm in its place. Tristan had the same. “Antonio told you?” I asked, glancing down at my plate.

Tristan nodded. “Looks great.”

“What does a cyber security specialist do? Make sure people are changing their passwords and stuff?”

Tristan chuckled, popped a forkful of chicken in his mouth, and nodded. He swallowed before he said, “That’s exactly it. I make sure all my clients are regularly changing their passwords.”

He was very clearly being sarcastic, but I was genuinely hoping he’d elaborate. “So who are your clients? Companies? Or people like my dad?”

“Both. Anyone who understands the importance of cyber security.”

Why wasn’t he like some normal guy, boastful about how important and successful he was? “Cyber security being . . .?”

“I keep data safe.”

“Data on computers?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Data on phones?”

“Yes. These days most data is stored electronically. So basically all data.”

“This is a lot of talk about data,” I said on a sigh.

His eyes did that mischievous sparkly thing as he smiled. “You started it.”

“I’m trying to get to know you,” I said. As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn’t. I was trying to get to know him, but why? We just had to pass the time until dinner was over and we could go back to our respective lives, but Tristan interested me. Too much.

“You’re trying to understand what I do. That’s not who I am.”

“I can’t remember the film, but in it there’s a scene where a woman says to her boyfriend or ex or something that it doesn’t matter who you are in your head, it’s what you do that counts.”

“Rachel says it to Bruce in Batman Begins: ‘It’s not who you are underneath. It’s what you do that defines you.’ Best of the three Nolan Batmans in my opinion. People loved The Dark Knight but I thought it was overrated.”

I wasn’t going to tell him, but I kind of loved Batman Begins and I kinda loved that he could quote from it. “Okay, Gotham geek, you’ve just contradicted yourself. You said what you do defines you, did you not?”

“But Rachel isn’t talking about Bruce’s job. She’s talking about his actions. Also we’re pre-supposing that Rachel’s right and only actions matter. I never said I agreed with her.”

I couldn’t help but smile. He was right. He was cute. And he was smart, but not in a showy way. He exuded confidence without cockiness. It was a welcome change.

“Do you agree with her?”

He winced. “Yes and no. Yes in the context of Bruce seemingly being an indulgent playboy with the heart of that same great kid he used to be. But more generally I think some actions we take can be a mistake. No one wants to be judged on their worst day. So in that sense, what we do isn’t always representative of who we are.”

I liked that he was listening to me. And that he was interesting to listen to. If I took Tristan at his actions, he had donated generously to Sunrise, and he’d been thoughtful in picking this restaurant and in ordering for me. Should I therefore believe he was a generous, thoughtful man? Was it all for show, or were his actions a genuine reflection of his personality?

“So tell me why you ended up bidding so much for this dinner. What is it that you need from my father?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Need? You think I’m after something?”

“Most people are.”

He nodded slowly. “I suppose so.” He paused and seemed in no rush to continue. Eventually, he said, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Arthur. I didn’t know you were his daughter when I bid. I’d stepped out to take a call and when I came back, the beautiful woman who’d bumped into me earlier that day was on stage. Sans pastry cream, wearing a stunning gown.”

Heat swept over my body like I was stepping off a plane in Dubai. He hadn’t known who I was? A fizzle of excitement spun in my stomach. The hot man opposite had just wanted a date with me without knowing my last name, or the reputation for wealth attached to it?

“You think everyone else who bid was trying to impress your father?” he asked.

“Impress him. Use me. Pick your poison.”

“Wow,” Tristan said, a grin unfurling on his face. “How did you get so . . . cynical?”

“I’m a realist. I don’t expect people to be anything but human and therefore, focused on their own best interests.”

He shook his head. “I don’t believe that of the human race, and I don’t believe you believe that, either.”

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