The Real Adam Brightman

by Roz Fayrer

  ‘The incredibly camp photographer?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, letting loose a little laugh.

  ‘Well Jacques, as adorable as he was, caused a bit of a scandal when he ran off with one of the male models and Dominic was brought in to replace him at the last minute.’

  ‘That dirty dog! Though I must say, I’m surprised it took him so long to tap such an endless source of good-looking young things.’

  ‘Jacques could have learned a thing or two from you, but no. It was love at first sight. They eloped to Vegas and were married by a Marilyn impersonator.’

  ‘Only Jacques.’

  Talia smiled affectionately, with a softness he hadn’t before associated with her. She’d always been kind, but between them, they’d had their fair share of demons. Perhaps that was why they had been so drawn to each other, and perhaps that was their undoing.

  ‘So Dominic took the lead on the shoot and one thing led to another…’

  ‘And the rest is history,’ Adam finished.

  ‘He’s…’ she sighed again. ‘He’s whole.’

  ‘Ahh,’ was all Adam could muster in response. The unspoken accusation of his own brokenness lay between them.

  ‘His work takes him all over the world and our schedules are… hectic, but he grounds me.’

  A waiter appeared, and Adam ordered the duck confit, and the goat cheese parcel with salmon for Talia.

  Talia interrupted. ‘Actually, do you think I could have the steak?’ she asked the waiter, as if she were asking for a particularly naughty treat. Adam was surprised, she’d never been into red meat when they’d been together. But then he guessed there was quite a bit that had changed about her.

  She smiled at Adam’s surprise and laughed. Unlike the laughter earlier that had grated so painfully on his frayed nerves, Talia’s was different. It was like coming home. He bit back the thought. No. If it was like a home, it was one he’d never be able to return to.

  ‘Meat; that’s a new one for you Tali.’

  ‘Well,’ she said, as if considering her words, ‘I’m beginning to take a bit of a step back these days. After the Renlay contract, I could be a bit more selective with the jobs I took.’

  ‘You never took the one I offered,’ said Adam.

  ‘Yeah, because there’s sooo much scope advertising the new mobile phone or social media app. I hate to tell you this, but mobiles just aren’t sexy,’ she replied, the teasing evident in her tone.

  ‘Oh Talia, it’s not the mobile, but what you do with the mobile, or what’s on the mobile. I remember my own secret stash of photos of you…’

  ‘Don’t!’ she said, laughing. ‘Don’t remind me. Thank God you never turned your hand to photography, they were truly awful.’

  ‘I don’t think so, they kept me very… entertained… on those long and lonely nights when you weren’t around.’

  ‘You were never lonely Adam. There was always some wild party for you to be at, always some oblivion you were chasing.’

  Adam wasn’t going to argue. Self-delusion had never been one of his vices. And softly spoken words were never hers. As if she’d seen the thoughts passing across his face, a hint of sadness entered her eyes.

  ‘I sometimes wonder, if we hadn’t lost-’

  Every muscle in Adam’s body locked. Anger, fury, whipped through him quicker than a lightning bolt.

  ‘Don’t say it,’ he growled. ‘Don’t even think it near me.’

  For a moment Talia looked frozen into silence, but then he saw determination paint her features. He got up, his chair squealing painfully on the marble floor, drawing curious gazes from the diners in the restaurant.

  In his fist he was squeezing the life out of the heavy cotton napkin. He threw it onto the empty plate in front of him, ordered a passing waiter to charge the meal to his room, and left, the image of Talia’s unmasked pain, hurt and shock beating against the back of his eyelids with every step he took out of the sumptuous room and away from the beautiful woman behind him.

  ***

  He walked into the exquisite foyer of The Chatsfield. The huge entrance leading out onto a busy London street called to him. And he wanted it. He wanted to run. For just a moment, the hotel felt like a cage, one he needed to escape. But he knew he wouldn’t really escape. Not tonight. Options flitted through his mind. Back to his penthouse suite? Down to the bar? As possibilities went, the two options weren’t ideal. And she’d come and find him wherever he went. He knew that much about her. Time wouldn’t have changed that. And the last place he wanted Talia was in his room.

  When he re-entered the bar, the atmosphere had changed. The low thrum of soft music welcomed him, as did the soft darkness, so different to the stark illumination of the restaurant. Daniel Northman pulled his gaze away from where Ally sat laughing with the Spaniards as if the scene from earlier hadn’t happened. And Adam envied her that – the ability to brush off the awkwardness and move on.

  Shifting his mind away from the past was something Adam was used to, and he did so now. Blocking the sentence he’d not let Talia finish from entering his mind.

  ‘Whiskey?’ Daniel asked, already pouring the shot as if he’d spoken the question just for the sake of it.

  ‘And a small glass of white wine,’ added a voice from behind him. Adam cursed, and spun round.

  ‘When are you going to get the hint that I don’t want you here, Talia,’ he hissed, loud enough for her to hear, and quietly enough not to disturb the other customers.

  Turning back to the bar to take his drink, he caught the warning in Daniel’s narrowed eyes. ‘Don’t you start, bud, she’s old enough and ugly enough to look after herself.’

  With that, Daniel let out a booming laugh, and Adam almost felt an echo in his own chest. Talia was no way even near ugly.

  A smile crossed even Talia’s features as she held up a room card, the number 639 painted in gold against sleek black plastic.

  Adam made his way back to the table they had sat at earlier, mumbling about not being able to pay for his own oblivion tonight.

  She sat her glass of untouched wine on the table and he did the same with the whiskey.

  Adam sighed. He was tired. Tired of carrying around this guilt and anger. It took up so much energy. More, surprisingly, than building a global media empire. The doors to the past had been flung wide open tonight. All of them. And he felt the ghosts sitting at the table with them crowd in on him. In the darkness he felt Talia’s eyes on him.

  Grounded. That’s what she’d said about her fiancé, and he knew what she meant. Talia had always touched a part of him, one that hadn’t been caressed in so many years. Not since that night ten years ago. Ten years ago today.

  ‘Why won’t you leave Talia?’ he asked, not with the bitterness and anger of earlier. But genuine curiosity.

  ‘Because Adam, sometimes, even when we want it the most, we shouldn’t be alone.’

  Chapter Four

  The solace Talia was offering was too much like hope. Too much like comfort. And he didn’t deserve comfort. Or hope.

  ‘Well, if you’re not going to leave, and I’m going to stay – partly because it’s easy, and partly because Daniel’s a damn good barman, we’d better find some way to keep ourselves entertained.’

  Weariness entered Talia’s beautifully dark eyes. Good. He wanted her weary. He wanted her gone.

  He cocked his head to one side, and allowed his gaze to drift from the high-heeled shoes that would make even a rich socialite drool, up the long legs he had once caressed, the shape of her calf, to where her thighs were encased in a tight black sheath. He lingered there, before moving over her waist, over breasts that he knew fit his palms perfectly, upwards to the long length of her neck, finally returning to fix his gaze on hers.

  Talia tried to hold his gaze, but he knew she was uncomfortable, and bastard that he was he relished it. They had been perfect together, the sex between them electric. The kind you could look a lifetime for and never find. The fire he ha
d started on purpose took hold, and heated his blood more than a hundred whiskeys ever could.

  ‘Stop it,’ she whispered, putting up a fight.

  ‘No.’ Wanting this. Wanting to fight. To argue. To win.

  ‘I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. I might have fallen for it once–’

  ‘You fell for it a lot more than once,’ Adam replied, shocking himself by the erotic images that flooded his mind.

  ‘It’s not going to work Adam.’

  ‘You think that ring on your finger will protect you from me?’

  She leaned forward, accepting his challenge, and he loved every second of it.

  ‘I don’t need a ring on my finger to protect me from you. You managed that all by yourself one year ago.’

  The sharp rent in his gut opened that little bit wider and must have shown on his face, because he instantly saw regret in her beautiful eyes.

  ‘I shouldn’t have let you goad me,’ she whispered into the silence that hung between them.

  And Adam leaped on that one hint of weakness. ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself Tali. We were always quite a pair. What do you say? Once round the bed for old time’s sake?’

  ‘Adam, stop.’

  ‘If you’re not going to sleep with me, what good are you?’

  ‘You think alcohol and sex will make up for the past?’

  ‘You know nothing about it Tali, so back off.’

  She leaned back, and considered him with an all-too-knowing gaze. ‘What happened to you Adam? How did you get like this?’

  ‘Ahh, sweetheart. Mummy was a drunk and Daddy was a philanderer. It’s a sad story but it happens every day.’

  ‘Don’t belittle this.’

  ‘Then don’t patronise me,’ he growled. ‘The two years we spent together should have been enough to prove that I’m not going to tell you about my past.’

  ‘You’re many things, Adam, but mean isn’t one of them. It took a lot for me to come here today.’

  ‘You shouldn’t have.’

  ‘Well I did, and I’m here. So deal with it. There are things I need to say, things we need to talk about. And any other day, I’d get the same old playboy crap from you that I once fell for. But not tonight. And I’m not leaving until I’m done. What happened, shaped me. Affected me. And I know it affected you. We were pregnant for God’s sake. And the day I lost our baby is one that I’ll never, ever get over.’

  The harsh aching pain colouring her voice cut through Adam like a knife. The same pain that he felt in his bones, lying over a deeper hurt. Guilt and anger swirling in his gut, like the whiskey in the glass Daniel had poured him.

  He leaned forward, no mistaking the tone and fury now, ‘I told you not to talk about it. Not to even think about it.’

  Daniel stirred behind the bar, his watchful gaze heavy on them both. Not taking his eyes from her, Adam watched as Talia discreetly waved him off.

  ‘I know how scary it can be to confront demons Adam. I’ve been there. I’ve had enough of my own to deal with. And Dominic has helped me see that you can get through them. Not over them, Adam, but through them.’

  ‘Perhaps your mother laid enough blows on you when you were a kid that you started to like it, because I’m not going to pull my–’

  White wine splashed into his face, dripping down into and through his shirt. He blinked, wiping the stinging liquid from his eyes and off his cheeks.

  ‘How dare you,’ Talia whispered, low and full of pain. ‘Of all the things, how dare you.’

  And with that Adam finally got what he wanted. She left the bar, customers staring between him and her, and he reached for his whiskey and swallowed guilt with alcohol. It burned the back of his throat and set fire to the ache in his chest.

  Chapter Five

  Daniel took the seat that Talia had just left, and threw a cloth at him. Adam caught it mid air, and held it in his hand.

  ‘Smooth move, Brightman.’

  Adam barely managed a grunt in response, his throat still too raw from trying to suppress the pain. He began wiping at his shirt, and his thighs that his trousers now clung to.

  ‘I’ve seen a lot of things in this bar, Adam. I know a thing or two about darkness. And you’re wreathed in the stuff. But I also know what goodness looks like, and she just walked out of this bar.’

  ‘It’s too late. I’ve done my damage, and she’s moved on – that road ended a long time ago.’

  ‘That may be, and perhaps it’s for the best. But here’s the thing about roads. You can start down one, but perhaps this time you can turn back. And having someone along for the ride? Well… sometimes it helps. They might not see you all the way to the end, but… hey. What do I know? I’m just a guy managing a bar.’

  Adam looked up at Daniel and finally gave voice to the question that had sat with him since the first time they met.

  ‘Are you though? Just a guy managing a bar?’

  Daniel gave a small smile. ‘For now.’

  With that Daniel left Adam to his drink, barely touched from before. It was nearly ten pm, and he’d actually only managed about two drinks and they hadn’t even touched the surface.

  The smell of wine permeated his senses. And the guilt rose up in his gut as Talia’s words came back into his mind. It had been the cruellest thing he’d ever said to her. Even without alcohol it was a new low. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t who he was. On any other night that is. She should have known to stay away from him. She was the one who had got the closest to him. He’d nearly even told her once. But that was before. Before they’d lost the baby.

  Adam cursed himself a million times over, got up from the table, leaving the half-drunk whiskey behind. Need fuelled his body. Room 639. He had to find her. Apologise. Confess. Beg for forgiveness. Hell, all of the above.

  ***

  His palm was sweaty as he knocked on her door. He could hear her moving around in the room beyond. Her voice, soft and low. For a brief moment he wondered if she was with someone. Then she opened the door, a phone cradled between her ear and her shoulder.

  She looked at him, long and hard. And in those brief seconds, his heart stopped.

  Adam bit back a curse, and waved to her, mouthing the words, I’ll go.

  It seemed to bring her back to life, and she shook her head, gesturing to the phone with one hand and pulling him into her room with the other.

  Dominic, she mouthed in return, and followed behind him as he walked into the suite.

  Instantly regret filled him. He didn’t want to be here, in a room with a bed, with Talia on the phone to her fiancé. But he couldn’t leave now. She was talking in hushed tones into the phone, and Adam picked his way through a mess of clothes on the floor, to the balcony. He allowed himself a small smile as he remembered how messy she’d been. It was surprising for such a sophisticated woman, it was as if she’d kept her chaos just to herself.

  He opened the floor-to-ceiling sliding window and let himself out on to the balcony where London lay beneath him, lit by a million different lights. In the distance he could see the London Eye, the outline of the hundreds of years old Houses of Parliament and, for a moment, he wondered how much they’d born witness to. Now they stood strong against his own undoing and in some way he kind of liked that.

  He heard her just behind him on the other side of the glass, watching him from inside the room. Through the phone he heard a male voice, Do what you have to do. And never taking her eyes off Adam, she told her fiancé that she loved him and that she’d see him soon.

  He didn’t want to hear her with her fiancé. It hurt in a way that took him by surprise. But it also healed a part of him that had always wanted her to be happy. He’d so nearly had that happiness, it had been so close within his grasp, that he had tasted it. He would have settled down with her. He knew that now. He had been ready to bid that playboy part of his life goodbye.

  But then she’d lost the baby.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, the words tak
en to Talia on the wind that whipped across London, around the balcony, and between them. ‘I am so, so very sorry.’

  ‘I know,’ she said quietly, the resignation in her tone hanging between them. She rested her head against the frame of the window, and offered him a sad smile.

  ‘Not just for what I said in the bar.’

  She nodded. ‘I know,’ she said again. And he wondered how the hell he had let this amazing woman slip through his fingers and fall into the hands of another.

  He watched as tears gathered in her eyes and felt the sting of his own against the back of his eyelids. He closed them, against the tears, against the pain, and let it all loose with a sigh that shuddered through him.

  ‘I wasn’t ready. For you. Or for the baby. We were so young. What the hell did I know about being a father? It’s not as if I had a good role model.’

  Talia stepped out onto the balcony and he threw up a hand to ward her off. If she touched him now, he’d stop. And he couldn’t stop. He needed to say this. She needed him to say this.

  ‘All I felt was fear, Tali. I know that excitement and hope lay somewhere beneath it, but I couldn’t reach it. It couldn’t get through the fear. I didn’t deserve such a responsibility, such an honour. To be the father of your child? I wasn’t worthy of that. Of you. You were there, no matter how many parties I went to, how many women I flirted with, you stayed. And that scared the hell out of me. That last night, that last party, it was insane. I wanted to get lost, and I did and at the same time… you were… you lost…’

  Grief and pain choked the words in his throat and he felt her arms come about him. ‘And it broke me, even more than I had been before, and I was so selfish, and I couldn’t be there for you. And I’m so sorry.’ His breath ran out on his last word, and he held Talia to him as if she could somehow ward off the pain.

  ‘You weren’t the only one who was scared Adam. I was too. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted the baby – I know that sounds awful, but… you’re right. We were young. You were building the company, I was flying around the world, taking gigs wherever I could just to establish my name. But more than that, what if,’ she paused, the shudder through her body vibrating through his own, ‘what if,’ she whispered, ‘I was like my mother? What if I inflicted the same damage on this perfect little thing?’