Tristan's face froze. A flood of realization hit him like a tidal wave—Sam was the one. The woman who had barged into his suite a month ago, mistaking him for a gigolo, demanding his help while she was drugged. His virginity had been stolen that night, along with his dignity when she left him a pile of money and an insultingly casual note yet she too helped him relieve from the drug. That was her!
His eyes widened, a mixture of disbelief and absurd amusement playing across his face. Summer, mistaking his shock for judgment, instantly raised her voice in defense.
"Hey! Don't look at me like that! I was helpless and drugged, okay? What, did you expect me to wait around to be assaulted? If I was going to lose my virginity, at least I wanted it on my own terms. Besides…" she tossed her head back confidently, "I paid him! I didn't just take advantage of him, I left him a solid 500 thousand. That's generous, right?"
Tristan's jaw clenched as he didn't know to laugh or cry. 500 thousand?! She paid him! Not only did she think he was a gigolo, but she had the audacity to leave him a small fortune as compensation. He could feel his face heating up with a combination of embarrassment and strange satisfaction. On some level, it amused him to know that both of them had lost their virginity to each other that night—only she didn't realize it. Not yet.
Summer, seeing the blush rising on his face, jumped to conclusions. Her boldness ramped up.
"Wait—do you think I wronged the guy? What if he was a gigolo? Wait...I think in order to please me he took the same drug, otherwise I don't think he'd be able to satisfy me. Hmm...he was quite professional! I gave him 500 thousand, alright! That's more than enough. And I'm sure he enjoyed it too. I mean, why else wouldn't he have complained? No cops showed up at my door, so clearly, the guy was fine with it. In fact, I bet he's somewhere grateful—not only did he get paid, but I gifted him my chastity!" She folded her arms across her chest with a proud huff. "I'd say he got the better deal, wouldn't you?"
Only Sam could think that she had done him a favor that night, Tristan's face darkened and mouth twitched as he fought to maintain a straight face. He was caught somewhere between being absolutely exasperated and strangely angry because she thought he couldn't satisfy her without drugs. He thought, hmph...I'll show her if I could satisfy her without drugs or not...hope she doesn't cry then!
Seeing him silent, Summer grew even more defensive. "Oh come on, what's with that look? Do you think I ruined his life or something? Don't worry—I won't be taking advantage of you like that! I mean, unless—" She grinned wickedly, raising an eyebrow as if considering it.
That was too much. That grin. Tristan could no longer take it. His emotions were a chaotic storm inside him: amusement, anger, disbelief, and that damned blush that wouldn't go away. Without saying another word, he abruptly stood up and practically bolted out of the suite, the door slamming shut behind him.
Summer blinked in confusion, staring at the door. "What... wait. Did he just—run out?" Her face scrunched up in disbelief, her mouth agape. "Is he afraid of me? What kind of man runs out like that? I didn't even 'do' anything!"
She stood up, pacing the room, mumbling to herself. "I mean, it's not like I'll actually take advantage of him. Does he think I go around traumatizing random guys? Oh my God, he totally thinks I'm some kind of predator now, doesn't he?"
She slumped down on the couch, utterly baffled by his reaction. "Great. Another one bites the dust. I swear men are so fragile sometimes..."
At this point, she completely forgot about her past and her obnoxious mother. The atmosphere which was very heavy and emotional some time ago, completely changed as she recounted her rendezvous with the 'gigolo'. Summer was confused, exasperated and defensive witnessing Tristan's emotional pliances during her narration. She thought, Trish's reaction was a bit too much, why was he behaving like I paid him for sleeping with me? Hmph! Was he trying to be moral with me? Does he think I'm some loose, promiscuous woman? Maybe...maybe he thinks like that because I initiated the kiss and then this story but he responded too. Men! They're all unreliable, no wonder! She was clearly overthinking as she was somewhat bashful too about what happened between her and Tristan.
Meanwhile, Tristan was halfway down the hallway, trying to compose himself, his mind reeling. He could still hear her bold voice echoing in his head, her words bouncing around like chaotic fireworks. She thought she 'paid him off.' She thought he was happy with the money and that no complaints meant satisfaction. He wanted to laugh—he should laugh—but the sheer absurdity of it all left him speechless.
As he finally stepped into the elevator, a faint smile tugged at his lips. Of all people, it had to be her. Sam. The woman who had paid him and how he felt humiliated but now somehow he felt joyous knowing that it was Sam that night.
As Summer stood in her suite, still grappling with the whirlwind of emotions from Tristan's earlier departure, he suddenly reappeared. She sized him up, ready to unleash her indignation about his fickleness. But just as she opened her mouth to speak, he handed her a familiar note with a grin somewhat wickedly.
Her eyes widened in shock as realization dawned on her: this was the same note she had written to the gigolo who helped her escape that disastrous night. Heat flooded her cheeks as she processed the truth—it hadn't been some random stranger; it was Tristan all along. She thought, so that's why Trish was behaving that oddly. Ughh... This is damn embarrassing! Trish was the one, that gigolo!
Tristan's wicked grin widened, clearly enjoying her embarrassment. "Sam," he teased, "I must have owed you plenty in my past life, considering that every time you're drugged, you seem to take advantage of me."
Summer stuttered, "Trish… you—you were that gigolo?"