Adam

by Katie Dowe

  *****

  She did not have long to find out. Her mother took the lead and informed her in a cold, detached voice that she would be sent away to Europe, possibly Switzerland where she would have the child and give it up for adoption. A suitable story would be told to allay suspicion and no word of her indiscretion would be uttered outside the family. Maggie had protested vehemently that she was not leaving Jonathan and had been told in a clear, concise voice that if she attempted to contact that carpenter again, they would make sure he was locked away and the keys thrown away. “If you happen to love him as you say you do,” she had been told scathingly. “You will do as we say and never contact him again.”

  “Mother, this child will be your grandchild!” Maggie had cried.

  “That thing inside you will never be a Whitmore!” her mother had told her coldly. “If you value the carpenter’s life, you will do as you are told.”

  In the end, she had given in and when Jonathon had come around, she had refused to see him and he had been told never to set foot on the property again or else he would be arrested. He had still tried and had been told by a maid that “Ms. Maggie had gone to Europe.” When he had demanded to speak to Mary-Ann Whitmore a few months later, he had been told that Maggie had come to her senses and had gotten rid of the child. He had left brokenhearted and it had taken him years to get over her and the loss of his baby. He never knew that Maggie had miscarried and had almost died as a result of it. He spent his life thinking that she had betrayed him and the Whitmores spent their lives blaming him for what he had done to their daughter and hating him with a virulence that had sustained the generations throughout the years. Maggie was married to a gentle and loving man with a title who eventually made her get over him. Jonathon never got over her or the bitterness he felt towards the family even though he married a beautiful black woman who did her best to make him forget!

  Chapter 2

  Present Day…

  As funerals went, it was a very good one, if one could think of losing a loved one a good thing. The day was sunny, and it had not rained, and the turnout was more than good. Mary Louise Gardner had been a well-loved soul and a church-going woman who had sung on the choir as well as been active in the women’s department. Her baking was well known and enjoyed, and she always had time for everyone who came to her for advice. It always amazed Amber that she was that type of person and that her daughter, who was Amber’s mother, was not like her one bit! Madeline Bingham had been married twice and was as flighty as they come, never staying in one place for too long. She had foisted Amber onto her mother as soon as the girl’s father had died of a heart disease when she was only ten years old and had come back for visits every now and then. Amber had never resented her, in fact it was very hard to do so. Madeline was like a butterfly, flitting from one place to another without putting down roots, but she was also very loveable. She was now on her second divorce and on the hunt for a third husband. She had been in Italy when Amber had called and told her that her mother had passed, and she had barely made it back for the funeral. Amber had accepted her quick hug and the squirt of tears as she blamed herself for not being there when her mother was sick.

  “But I knew you could handle things, darling,” she had told her daughter. “You are so responsible!”

  Amber had never taking umbrage to the fact that her mother was not a mother and would never be. She had accepted that and the fact that she also thought that Amber was her younger sister instead of a daughter who needed her guidance. Her grandmother had provided all that and more and she had been encouraged to explore her creativity and never allow anything to stand in her way. She had done just that! Now her grandmother was gone, a woman she had considered to be her rock, and her mother was now lying in a box beneath the ground. The singing had been lovely, the service had been short but very poignant as the minister spoke fondly of dear ‘sister Mary Louise’ and her contribution to the church and how she would be sorely missed. Her grandmother had never dragged her to services the way others would have but had told her that she hoped she found her way there. She had gone several times but had privately thought that the hypocrisy of being pious on Sundays while raising hell the other days of the week was something she could not stomach! Her grandmother had been the exception and had told her that they were not put on this earth to judge people. But they lived in a small neighborhood and it was hard to miss what people were up to!

  She nodded as people came by to offer their condolences but kept her eyes on the box being lowered into the ground. She held the single red rose in her hand, waiting for the right moment to put it on the ground where she was lowered.

  “I will go and see to the catering, darling,” her mother told her quietly. The repast was being held at the house where she grew up and had lived with her grandmother until her death.

  Amber nodded and acknowledged her mother’s statement with a nod of her head.

  The woman rubbed her arm and then left.

  *****

  Adam Steven Whitmore leaned against the car, his hands resting into the pockets of his dark blue dress pants, his stance casually elegant as he watched the proceedings from a distant. His steel grey eyes were hidden by the opaque shades covering them. His jet-black hair was slightly tousled by the wind and anyone watching or noticing would have realized that he was that Whitmore, the heir to the vast Whitmore oil fortune that had started several generations ago. They would also notice that the tall, athletically built man was the same one who had graced magazine covers and had been called one of the hottest and most eligible bachelors in the world! His sexual exploits had been making news much to his rigid family’s dismay but had not put a dent on his activities! His lips quirked into a whimsical smile as he looked at the tall, slender woman standing apart from the crowd. She was his best friend and had been his best friend since they had both met in college, which was ironic considering that their family had been feuding for years. They had found a way to look past that and become friends. He had been getting dressed for a dinner party that he had been invited to in Paris when he had decided to check his voicemail and had heard her voice. “Adam, you bastard! I have been calling you like a million times and you are not picking up your phone and you are not returning my calls! I really hope she is worth it. Consider yourself relieved of the best friend duty. How can you be my best friend when you do not communicate? Anyway, Gams died, and her funeral is on Saturday.”

  That had been yesterday, and he had dropped everything and had flown the entire day and night to get there. He had not taken their private jet but had decided to travel commercial instead. He did not want his family to know he was in town yet. His smile widened as his eyes traveled over her slender figure draped in a Grecian style green and white dress that barely covered her long graceful legs. Amber was not a traditional woman; as a matter of fact, she delighted in flouting tradition preferring to dance to her own music. She was beautiful and outrageously outspoken, not caring what people thought of her and he loved that about her. She was the only one who did not sugarcoat whatever she said to him and in a world where his extreme wealth and his amazing good looks guaranteed that people would forever tell him what he wanted to hear, he really appreciated her candor. He waited until the crowd had dispersed before getting off the car. He made his way slowly over the uneven grounds to her. He had a single red rose in his hand as he walked towards her. She did not notice that anyone else was there until he came alongside her. “How are you holding up?”

  He saw when she stiffened and then turned to him, her entire face lighting up with a broad smile as she flung herself into his arms. He grinned as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. They stayed that way for a few minutes before she pushed him away, her dark brown eyes flashing! “It took Gram’s death to bring you back here? Adam, I have not seen you in six months!”

  “You know me, darling,” he said gently, his eyes going over her exquisite face. She was strong and resilient and was able to take on anything, b
ut he knew more than most how much her grandmother meant to her. “How are you?”

  Tears sparkled in her eyes for a moment. “I hate emotions, they are so inconvenient!”

  “That they are.” He took her hand and linked it with his. “I was getting dressed for a dinner party when I happened to listen to your message. I ditched the party and came straight here.”

  “Where were you?”

  “In Paris,” he said with a grin.

  “How did you explain that you had to leave?”

  “I told her that my best girl needed me,” he told her truthfully.

  “I bet that went well,” Amber said dryly, a pleased smile on her face.

  “It didn’t,” he said with a careless smile as he pulled her into his arms and wrapped his hand around her shoulder to hold her close. “But when my best friend needs me, I am there.”

  “Thank you,” she said huskily as she wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into him. “I am going to find it very strange to go on without her,” she added. “She has always been there for me no matter what and was not only my grandmother but my stanch supporter as well.” She laughed suddenly. “I remember when I told her that I wanted to design my own line of clothing and she would look at me wearing something others would consider scandalous and told me that it was about time.”

  “I remember those oatmeal cookies she would bake whenever I came over,” Adam said fondly, his hand running up and down her bare arm automatically. “She never resented the fact that I was a Whitmore and opened her home to me whenever I was there. She never treated me like someone different.”

  “She loved you.”

  They both looked down at the clump of dirt and Adam leaned forward and dropped the single rose onto the dirt and Amber followed. They stood there for a few more minutes, with Adam knowing that Amber wanted to be there for a while longer. It was a beautiful August afternoon with the slight breeze stirring the leaves on the trees and getting rid of the intense heat somewhat. Somewhere above them, birds chirped and the sounds of squirrels scurrying to find their meals were heard in the stillness of the funeral plot. With a shuddering sigh, Amber closed her eyes and said a silent goodbye to the woman who had made her life so much better before turning around and indicating that she was ready to leave. She stopped when they were halfway down to look at him. “Are you heading home now?”

  “Not yet.” He tucked her arm in his and continued walking. “I have not seen you in ages and I want to catch up.”

  “Good,” she said gratefully. “I was not sure I could endure talking pleasantries to a roomful of people. With you there, I could more or less ignore them.”

  With a laugh, he guided her towards his vehicle as hers had been taken by her mother.

  *****

  Much later that evening, after having ignored the whispers and curious eyes that followed them around, Amber rested her head wearily against the colorful plump cushions as she tried to process the fact that she would never see her grandmother again! Her mother had taken off as soon as the last of their guests had departed, telling her daughter that she needed to go and deal with something. Amber had taken that as code for maybe meeting up with her latest love interest, but she did not care nor did she fault her mother for trying to deal with things the way she did. She was just happy to be there with the only person apart from her grandmother who meant so much to her.

  “You are aware that by now your family knows that you are in town, right?” Amber wriggled her toes as they rested on his lap. She had slipped out of the strappy sandals she had been wearing and had changed out of her dress to put on shorts and a tank top. Her thick dark hair, dyed blonde at the ends, spilled over the cushions in an untidy mess. Adam turned his head slightly to look at her lying there and as usual, he objectively admired the curves of her body and her exquisite face.

  “I am aware of that,” he told her lazily as he absently massaged her feet. “I am going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

  “They are going to know that you attended the funeral of their dreaded enemy and you are not going to hear the end of it.”

  “Don’t remind me,” he told her with a grimace.

  “Don’t you have some rich society heiress that you need to go out with or go to bed with tonight?” she persisted. He had unbuttoned the two top buttons of his crisp cotton shirt and had discarded his shades. She remembered telling him years ago that he was too pretty for his own good and that he was too aware of it.

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” His long legs were stretched out and he had also discarded his Italian loafers, his socked feet propped up on the coffee table in front of them. “Do you have someone coming over?”

  “I haven’t had someone coming over for the past six months.”

  One thick dark brow lifted at that. “What happened to – what was his name? Damon?”

  “Damion,” she supplied. “We broke up when he became jealous and insecure about the incessant need of yours to call me every five minutes and ask me for relationship advice. He told me that there was no way we are just friends. In his words, he said that I did not have the discipline to be just friends with a man like you. You had looks and money so basically, he was calling me a fool. Even when I told him that you were one of the world’s biggest sluts and I would be foolish to be grouped in with so many other women, he still did not believe me.”

  A smile played around his lips. “He did not deserve you.”

  “You are probably right,” she agreed. “Now your turn. The last time I read anything about you, it was that you were seeing some kind of African princess. How is that going?”

  “European princess, darling,” he corrected her. “It ended when she asked about the status of the relationship.”

  “Poor thing. They never realized that the surest way to scare you off is to ask about permanency.” She studied him thoughtfully. “Adam, you are thirty-one years old.”

  “And?”

  “You are the sole heir to a vast fortune and as much as I am never in agreement with your family, don’t you think it is time you picked one?”

  “You make it sound like I am being asked to pick my favorite candy,” he said dryly as he pulled her big toe. “I happen to like all sorts of candies, darling, and have a hard time picking a favorite.”

  “You know they are going to corner you about settling down as soon as you get home, don’t you?”

  “Why do you think I am delaying the inevitable?” he said with a sigh. “It does not matter that Anita is married, I am the one who has to provide the heirs, it is my responsibility to carry on the family name.”

  “You poor thing,” she said mockingly, her eyes dancing in amusement.

  “I love you too, darling,” he told her dryly. “You know if you weren’t the last person my family would expect to be a candidate, you would be the perfect choice. You are beautiful, smart, and know me better than anyone else and the only one who does not put up with anything from me.”

  “You are leaving out the part where you are a total slut and I am too confident and too smart to make the mistake of feeling anything for you than best friend emotions,” she told him with a grin.

  “That too,” he told her lightly as he studied her. “Why have you never been attracted to me though?”

  “Are we seriously having this conversation?” She held out her hands for him to pull her up into a sitting position. She had not eaten much at the repast and she could feel her stomach rumbling. There were tons of covered dishes in the refrigerator and she had seen a dish of lasagna that had been made by Mrs. Rawlins, a neighbor up the street. She knew from experience that her lasagna was very good! “You already know the answer to that, Adam.” She swung her legs off his lap and got to her feet, reaching out a hand to pull him up. His strong tanned hand took hers and he eased himself out of the sofa, allowing her to lead him into the cheerful kitchen. The caterers had cleaned up and in the large cozy living room there was no evidence that there had been a number of
people milling around exchanging comments and eating the food that had been prepared for her grandmother’s passing. Amber stood in the center of the room for a moment before she dragged Adam into the kitchen. “There is a bottle of chardonnay in the fridge,” she told him. He let go of her hand and went to get it as well as the glasses to pour the wine. Amber took the dish of lasagna from the counter and grabbed two plates and forks. “Here or in the dining room?”

  “Here.” He handed a glass of wine and poured one for himself, sitting on a stool around the counter as he watched her deftly scoop out the pasta.

  “I was attracted to you,” she told him as she passed him the plate with the pasta.

  “What changed?”

  “God! You are so vain!” Amber said with a laugh as she sat across from him and took up her glass of wine. “You were by far the most beautiful man I have ever seen, and I fell hopelessly in love with you at first glance. We were in psych class and I was seated across from you.”

  His eyes narrowed as he sipped his wine, knowing that she was teasing him. “Cut it out!”

  She laughed at him, her perfect white smile dazzling him for a moment. “I had already heard about you. The dreaded Whitmore family that I am supposed to stay away from.”

  “Why didn’t you?” He dug into the lasagna and found that it was very good.

  “You know how contrary I am. Someone tells me to do something and I do the opposite and besides I found you that day surrounded by all those hopeful college girls and I could see that you needed help.”

  “You thought I needed help?” His eyes gleamed in amusement as he stared at her. She had always fascinated him. he remembered that incident when he had been sitting beneath the large oak tree surrounded by adoring girls and completely in his element when she had come by, dressed in faded jeans filled with holes and a bulky t-shirt that seemed to swallow her slender frame. Her hair had been a little shorter then but no less untidy and her contemptuous look at the scene had startled him. She had said something scathing to the girls there and they had scattered. “I cannot believe that women over the years have fought valiantly to free us from instances like this and we have not learned one earthly thing. Don’t you girls have anything better to do than waste time with a man who will just use you and go on to the next conquest?”