Or rather, he’s the least of my problems.
The door to the bathroom swings open and Jill comes out, flustered, with her cell phone clenched over her heart. “Sorry, it was a work emergency.”
“What happened?” I ask her, hoping to change the heavy atmosphere between Reagan and me.
“Just have to reassure the board that the rumors are all false.” Jill pushes a smile over the trepidation that has taken over her face. “Again.”
“The same rumor as before? With the pesticides?” I ask.
“Oh no,” Jill smiles but its twitches my guess with rage. “This one is about me stealing recipes from GreenFields, a competitor.” Jill tosses down her phone on her kitchen counter and then sets her hands upon it. She hangs her head. “Of course, people online ran with the story without checking facts properly and now my competitor has threatened to sue us.”
My face falls. “If you didn’t steal the recipe, can’t you show everyone and prove its a rumor?”
“If I show the recipe, I risk GreenFields taking it and producing it. Plus any other competitor,” Jill answers. “Even if I decided ‘Screw It! Let’s show them the recipe and risk other companies reproducing it’, the board shut that option down. Quickly.” She sighs. “God damn Diana…”
“What’s Diana’s problem with you?” I ask Jill. “It seems like she’s coming after you more than she did when we filmed the show. It’s like she has an axe to grind.”
Jill takes a long breath. “I don’t know, but it’s all starting to give me a migraine. I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Just as well,” Reagan says as she pulls herself up from the bed. “Oscar cancelled filming cause he’s with Brooke and Diana, and the other team needs to film the trees or something.”
“We could just go downstairs for a drink? At the heated patio bar?” I suggest to the two of them. “The brochure said it was nice, overlooks the mountain all lit up.”
In truth, I’m starting to get bored in my room. There isn’t anything good on television ever and I’m not about to pay for an overpriced newly released movie either.
Reagan shakes her head as she begins to cross the room. “I told Charlie I would call him tonight anyway. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
Jill waits till Reagan is gone before looking at me over her shoulder, “I take it you two had words.”
I sigh and run my hands through my hair. “I don’t think she would forgive me if I bought her a golden palace.”
What did she mean by Declan having to forgive me? What does she think I did to him? What the hell did he tell her?
Jill laughs a little. “You may have to get a tad more creative.”
“Maybe I’ll get some ideas over a glass of wine,” I tell her, “do you want to come to the bar with me?”
Jill looks back at her phone. “Why not? If they have coffee, it may help this headache…”
The heated patio bar is on the other side of the lodge, and a good ten minute walk from our suites. It hung over the side of the lodge, with a glass roof top held up by stone pillars. There are long harvest tables which serve as seating areas, and stone fireplaces scattered throughout with iron castings so no one would get burnt. The mountain is lit up magically, though only partially shown because of the maple and birch trees standing so tall near the patio.
It’s crowded, most tables have been taken up already, but the bar is conveniently empty. Jill leads the way and takes the nearest barstool, calling the bartender towards us as I took a seat next to her. “You have Baileys?”
“Sure do,” the bartender smiles at her.
“Baileys please, and if you can throw in a shot of espresso that would be great,” she mutters. The bartender nods at her and looks at me,
“I’ll just have a glass of merlot,” I tell him.
Jill taps away on her phone, and after a second she frowns at what she reads on the screen. I’m about to ask her what’s wrong when someone steps up behind us.
“Jillian, Julie.”
I can see Jill’s eyes roll up annoyingly at the sound of Adam’s voice. “Adam.”
“I heard about what happened today,” he looks from Jill to me. “From the looks of things, you both got out unscathed.”
Jill’s focus goes back to her phone. Meanwhile, Adam’s shoulder comes in between mine and hers. He turns his head and looks down at me, his eyes meeting mine and his grin widening. “You look good, Julie.”
I say nothing, only give the bartender a smile when he sets down my wine and then Jill’s Baileys. Adam orders another scotch and sets down his empty glass. He reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out some kind of pamphlet. I notice the words “Maple Syrup Tapping” in bold red. He slides it to the bartender, “throw it out.”
“Not your type of excursion I take it?” Jill smirks as she notices it. “Too much wilderness, not enough cameras?”
“Diana took it by mistake,” he answers and then looks over at me, leaning against the bar to cut Jill from my view. “So, I was told by the producers that you’re leading quite a busy social life nowadays.”
Great. Thanks, Declan.
“Yup, that I am,” I say as I pick up on glass of wine and take a sip.
“It’s funny because when we were married, I had to drag you out to fancy dinner parties and charity events,” Adam remises. “You use to hate that crowd.”
“It was a different crowd,” I state coolly.
“I very much doubt that,” Adam smiles to himself as I finally give him my attention. He’s giving me his all-star flirty grin, the one that use to make me weak in the knees the first few months we were together. Until it slowly started to condition a response of frustration in me.
“People change,” I say.
“And you’ve changed?” Adam asks, he raises an eyebrow as he leans closer to me. He takes the wine from my hands and brings the glass to his mouth, taking a slow sip. “This wine is awful.”
“What do you know about wine?” I shoot back as I take my glass from him.
“I’ve learned quite a lot about it living in L.A. half the year. I’ve grown a palate for it. Debating partnering up with a friend and investing in a vineyard.”
I think back on what Jill and Brooke told me about Peter.
“Like Peter?” I can’t help but enquire.
Jill looks up from her phone at me, and her eyes quickly zoom to the back of Adam’s head. He drops his head for a minute and then smiles, slowly lifting it as he shakes his head at me. “So you heard about that, did you?”
“The entire social circle knows about what you did. It’s all anybody can talk about. Diana must be so embarrassed.”
The entire social circle? What and who am I talking about?
Adam thanks the bartender when he sets down his drink then looks back at me, frowning. “Peter’s the one who should be embarrassed. The way he acted was childish.”
“How else was he supposed to have acted? When his best friend, and business partner who he trusted, stole all his clients?”
Though I have no idea how Peter acted, what I said definitely touches a nerve in Adam. His animated composure vanishes before my eyes. Again, he leans closer. “Everybody knows his clients walked. He is a drunken fool, and he’s the one who can’t be trusted. I had no choice. I had to look out for myself and my reputation.”
“Funny,” I scoff, “that's what they say about you.”
Behind me Jill smirks loudly into her Baileys, and Adam gives her a quick glance before his gaze lands back on me. “Who says that?”
“People in the social circle,” I shrug as I drink my wine again.
“People in the social circle, eh?” he repeats unconvinced. “And just who is in this social circle you’re talking about? It can’t be the same people that Diana and I see on a regular basis.”
“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” I answer looking into his eyes. �
�Maybe I see them when you two are prancing around L.A. and then stay away when you’re desperate for attention in New York.”
“Oh bullshit,” Adam laughs.
“Maybe they trust me enough to tell me what is really going on between you two, and maybe they respect me enough to hide the details of my private life from people like you.”
His smile fades as he keeps his eyes on me. He starts to scan my face, looking at my mouth and hair, then my eyes. “Details of your private life? Like what? Your made up boyfriend?”
“Simon is definitely not made up,” I laugh. “Google him, you’ll see he exists.”
“I did google him actually. The Bad Boy of the Slopes, the spoiled rich kid with Olympian parents, the womanizer who was caught in some scandal with a royal family and hasn’t appeared in public in over a year. Forgive me, my darling ex-wife,” Adam’s words twists obnoxiously in his mouth as he leans in closer to me. “But he’s hardly your type, and you’re hardly his. I’ve seen the women, the model’s that hang off his arm...”
Behind him, Jill’s eyes shine loathsomely towards the back of Adam’s head. Suddenly, she sets down her phone and clears her throat. “Actually, I’ve seen them together on more than one occasion and I have to say, I have never seen a man so in love with a woman before. Ever.”
Adam turns to stand between us again, but his frown is doubtful. “Really? You’ve met this Simon?”
Jill sits up straight in her seat as she takes a drink. “I introduced them. I knew instantly he was perfect for her, all I had to do was show him a picture and he said she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It was love at first sight for him. You should see the way he dotes on her, buying her all these expensive gifts. But does Julie wear any of the diamonds or designer bags? No. She’s so modest.” Jill chuckles into her drink.
Adam opens his mouth to reply but Jill is faster, “And he says it’s so refreshing, to meet a girl who can talk about things other than climbing the social ladder, her new picture on social media, or who scorned her this week. He once told me the man who lost her must have been a complete idiot and obviously…” Jill looks Adam up and down slowly. “I agreed.”
I look at Adam’s hardened face.
I could kiss Jill right now!
“Jill, please stop,” I tell her. I fake a shy smile as I dip my head into my shoulder. “Adam doesn’t want to hear about that stuff.”
“Too modest,” Jill mutters into her drink.
“Anyway, I’m sure you have some friends to get back to, Adam,” I abruptly say when I notice Adam looking at me again. “Or your wife.”
“Di is filming right now,” Adam answers, “and I actually came over here hoping to talk to you. Privately.”
His eyes lock with mine intensely, perhaps to show me how serious he is. I think back on my last private moment with Adam and while on that day, my reaction was confusion and despair, this time it’s slight repulsion. A moment alone with Adam is not only unnecessary but could be torture.
I sigh, “There really is no reason for us to talk. I told you. It’s okay.”
Of course part of me wants to tell Diana about Adam’s phone calls during our divorce proceedings, but a larger part of me just wants to forget. As satisfying as it may have been, it came on the tail end of my anger and embarrassment.
“There is actually,” Adam cuts Jill from my view quickly. I jerk my head back when I realize how close his face suddenly is mine. “Please, Julie. Give me just five minutes.”
His fingertips stroke my elbow, and the tender touch freezes me.
Why’s he looking at me so—
“Oh!” Jill’s abrupt shout in Adam’s ear makes him jump, and I look down at my drink with reprieve.
“Look!” She continues shouting. “There’s Declan. Declan!”
Adam looks away from her, standing up straight as he notices the producer a few feet away with a group of people. I look over at Declan, who’s giving Jill an awkward, surprised wave. His eyes flutter towards me and Adam but he only nods at us.
“Come over, Declan!” Jill insists, her voice still at a high decimal. “Come join us.”
“He’s with people, Jillian,” Adam tells her sternly. “Can’t you see that?”
“You were with people,” she scoffs, “and you invited yourself over here didn’t you?” She then gestures to the room. “Speaking of your people, maybe you should head back over to them…”
I take a long drink of my wine, suddenly realizing Adam is right and that this wine isn’t very good. I push it away from me and look down to get the bartender's attention.
“Told you the wine is crap,” Adam mutters in my ear.
I glare his way. “I like the wine. I just want something stronger.”
He gives me a doubtful smile but then his eyes wander off me, “Declan.”
I slowly turn in my seat, to find the producer standing directly behind me, my knees graze his legs. He runs a hand through his hair and gives Adam a thorny smile, “Adam.”
I can’t help but look over at Jill who just shrugs at me, catching tension between the two men. It’s a change from the buddy-buddy relationship we had all been used to.
“I thought you’re supposed to be filming with Diana,” Declan checks his watch.
“Not until eight thirty,” Adam declares as he takes a quick drink of his whiskey. He looks down at the dark beer in Declan’s hands and smirks. “Still a beer drinker.”
“Some things never change,” Declan says, his tone sharp and his smile as icy as before.
Adam gives me a quick look, “Some things do. Julie has. She’s dating an Olympic skier.” I frown at him.
What’s the point in bringing that up? This man is infuriating.
“What about you?” Declan taps Adam’s chest with the head of his beer bottle. “What’s changed with you, Adam? What’s new?” He pauses and smirks suddenly. “Or are you saving that for the cameras?”
Adam takes his retort with a chuckle and with one finger taps the producer’s shoulder. “What about you, Declan? I thought you were filming some lion in Africa. What happened to that? Did it lose funding like, what was the other thing, the fish aquarium thing in Japan? It’s a dying industry, the documentary thing.”
Declan holds his own but Adam’s words hit below the belt, even I feel the punch from them.
“Adam,” I say.
“What?” he smirks my way before looking back at Declan. “It’s a serious enquiry.”
Declan gives Adam a half smile. “You know? I was meaning to tell you, Peter agreed to give the show a little bit of an interview after the other night. He had a pretty interesting story to tell, told me it would make for a great documentary about the politics behind the plastic surgery world.” Adam’s lips twitch in their encased smile.
He’s nervous, and angry. That’s a look I know all too well.
“Damn it,” Jill’s voice breaks the three of us out of our trance and we look at her. Her eyes are squinting down on her phone and her face is bunched up. “I uh—I have to make a phone call.” She pushes off her stool and leaves, pushing through crowds of bar patrons as she shoves her phone against her ear.
Great. I’m alone with my ex-husband and ex-friend who look like they want to tear each other’s faces off. This couldn’t get any worse.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your friends?” Adam suddenly asks Declan, he gestures at the crowd of people Declan had been with.
Well look at that, it can get worse.
I can’t be left alone with Adam. I don’t want to be left alone with him.
I bite my lip as I look from Adam to Declan, back to Adam. They haven’t taken their eyes off each other. Maybe I can slip away, since it looks like they forgot I’m here.
Declan breaks contact as his phone goes off in the pocket of his jeans. He reaches for it and looks at the screen, “Oscar wants you upstairs.”
<
br /> Oh, thank God.
Adam reaches for his phone in his suit jacket and frowns, “I didn’t get a message.”
“He doesn’t have your number,” Declan says annoyingly. “In his suite, now.”
Adam frowns at him, but after a second he finishes his drink and reaches passed me to set the empty glass down on the bar. He looks into my eyes, “We need to talk. Tomorrow.”
He walks away as I mutter a fed-up “Fine”, without saying goodbye to Declan or me.
“There was no message,” Declan suddenly tells me when Adam’s gone from earshot. He shows me the screen of his phone and I lean closer to see that it’s a notification that a sports team called the Dolphins won something.
I let out a laugh. “He’s going to lose it when he gets up there.”
Declan shrugs as he approaches the bar. He pushes Adam’s empty glass to the side and leans his elbows against the bar. “By the time he figures it out, it will be time for him to film with Di anyway.”
I swing my legs around and put my arms down on the bar. “Well, thanks.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” Declan says. “I did it for me.” But he smirks as if he’s just told a joke. “What’s he want to talk to you about?”
I shake my head and sigh. “I have no idea,but he’s pretty insistent.”
Declan waves down the bartender and then leans his right side against the bar to face me. “I heard you got jumped by some ten year olds.”
I frown, “First off, they were not ten. They were at least sixteen. And secondly, they didn’t jump us. They attacked us.”
“With snowballs?” he raises an eyebrow as he smiles.
I feel my cheeks redden as I cover my face with my hands. “I know. It was awful.”
“I heard you started it.”
“Yes,” I confess my face still buried. Slowly I pull them off and look over at him, “but only because they said some awful things to me and Jill!”
“You’re an adult,” he reminds me. “And they’re children…”
Reuniting Reality Page 13