by Karen Booth
“I don’t mind it every now and then.” How she hated hemming her answers. “Did you lose my cell number?”
“I guess I just pressed the number for your office. Would you prefer I call your cell?”
“I want to make sure you can reach me.”
“I take it you spoke to my dad?”
“Yes. About an hour ago.” She wondered whether she should let him know that his dad had essentially asked whether or not they’d slept together. Surely it wouldn’t make Adam feel better about their father-son relationship to know that the distrust when it came to that topic was so deeply ingrained.
“I told him about Julia.”
“So I heard. He’s very excited.”
“Yeah, sorry about that. I suppose I should’ve warned you. He’s thrilled by the prospect of me spending time with Julia. Don’t worry, though. I gave credit where credit was due. It’s all your brilliant idea.”
I’m a veritable mastermind. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“I wanted to let you know that I’ve worked everything out with Julia. We had coffee this morning.”
“Instead of dinner tonight?” Apparently he just couldn’t wait to start spending time with her.
“No. We’re still having dinner. That’s why I’m calling. I wanted to let you know where we’ll be going and what time we’ll be there.”
“Oh. I see.” She steeled herself. This was going to be her reality for the next several weeks, whether she liked it or not. Best to get used to it now.
“That’s how this works, right?”
She shook her head to extricate herself from unpleasant thoughts. “Yes. That’s right.” She grabbed a pen. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
“We’ll be at Milano. Reservations are for eight.”
Only the most romantic restaurant in the city. “And Julia’s publicist is okay with this?”
“Yes. Julia doesn’t have another movie coming out for over a year. She’ll do anything to stay in the papers, just so producers and directors don’t forget about her. She’s going to be thirty soon. That’s ancient for an actress.”
And yet she’s still absolutely stunning. “Okay, then. I’ll leak this to a few photographers.”
“Great. Thanks, Melanie.”
“And Adam, please don’t...” Her voice cracked, breaking before the words she really wanted to say, which were “do this.” “Please don’t flip off any photographers.”
“Don’t you trust me to do the right thing?”
At this point, the person she didn’t trust was herself. Her miracle fix for dazzling Roger Langford while making Adam less of a temptation was burning a hole through her stomach. Every time she thought about it, which was every moment since she’d told Adam her idea, it made her uneasy. Something about it was wrong, and she had an inkling as to what it was, but it was no fun to go there. If money and career were extraneous factors rather than center stage, she never would’ve asked Adam to spend more time with another woman. Focus on the work. “It’s just a reminder.”
Melanie hung up the phone and sat back in her chair, rubbing her now-throbbing forehead. If she was so brilliant, why did she feel like the biggest dummy on the planet?
* * *
Adam tapped away at his laptop, trying to fully express his ideas for a new app he wanted his development team to explore, but he was writing in circles. He dropped his elbows onto the desk and ran his hand through his hair. This entire workday had been a waste. He couldn’t get his mind off Melanie.
How was he going to make the Julia thing appear real, and if he did, how would that impact his relationship with Melanie? His ego had been bruised in the mountains, but now that he’d had a chance to heal, he had to admire her tenacity, her devotion to doing her job well and aboveboard.
His assistant, Mia, leaned into the doorway of his office. “It’s six thirty, Mr. Langford. You’re supposed to be picking up Ms. Keys at seven and your car is waiting outside. With traffic, you’ll be cutting it close.”
“Thanks. Guess I’d better change.” And I need a drink before my first public outing with Julia.
Adam closed the door to the private bathroom in his office and changed into a fresh shirt. He grabbed his matching suit coat from its hanger on the back of the door, and put on a black-and-gray-striped tie. Here goes nothing.
He wasn’t nervous about seeing Julia. They’d had coffee and that had gone fine. The truth was that their breakup had been as amicable as could be. After three dates, Julia had grasped his hand in the back of the limo and said, “There’s nothing here, is there?”
Adam had been immensely relieved. They liked each other. They could make each other laugh. But there was zero chemistry. On paper, they should have made the perfect couple. In reality, it all fell flat.
His real worry was whether or not they could pull off the charade of a romantic relationship. Surely people would see them together and know that they weren’t really together.
He had to make it work, however much it contradicted the way he chose to live his life. It was in his own best interest to make the scandal fade away so his father could live his final days knowing for certain that the integrity of the Langford name was intact. It had to work to make Melanie happy, since so much of her job depended on it succeeding. In the end, if he was lucky, it would have one of two effects on her—it would either make her so jealous that she realized that she wanted him, too. Or it would help her see that he was a good man. This would be his audition, his opportunity to show Melanie what he was really made of. Hopefully that opportunity would help him ultimately make Melanie his.
The limo arrived at Julia’s new apartment, and after a long twenty minutes of idle chitchat during the ride, they arrived at Milano. As Melanie had promised, a handful of photographers were out front of the restaurant.
“Julia,” one of them shouted, “over here.”
Cameras flashed as Julia held on to the tips of Adam’s fingers. She knew how to work the situation, smiling enough to avoid an unflattering photo, but not enough to appear posed, walking just the right speed so they could get their shot.
One benefit of choosing Julia as his fake girlfriend was that she could take center stage. Even after the media inferno of Adam’s scandal, she was still a bigger name. Her face had been plastered across national tabloids for years. Adam managed to hit the grocery store newsstands across the country a few times a year, not that he wanted the attention at all, but Julia was a fixture.
They strolled into the restaurant, dark wood paneling and white tablecloths as far as the eye could see. The gentle clinking of silverware and crystal stemware rose above a soundtrack of smooth jazz. The maître d’ spotted them and whisked them to their corner table. Everyone in the restaurant gawked and whispered.
Julia consulted her menu. “So, sweetie.” She glanced at him sideways. “What are you thinking about for dinner?” A bright smile crossed her lips and she knocked her head to the side, allowing her wavy brown hair to fall over her shoulders.
Any other man would’ve been drooling at her feet. Adam felt nothing. “Sweetie?” he whispered. “I don’t think you called me that when we were dating.”
She traced her finger on the tablecloth in a circle. “If we’re playing a part, we have to do it right. We need pet names.”
Adam nodded. “Oh. Okay.” This would take some getting used to.
The waiter stopped by and took their drink orders—prosecco for Julia, bourbon, neat, for Adam.
He perused the menu again, not hungry for anything more than a good burger. “I guess I’ll get the Tuscan rib eye.”
Julia raised her eyebrows at him, imploring him to say what he’d forgotten to add.
“I guess I’ll get the Tuscan rib eye, honey.” He’d practically coughed out the word, a term of affection he’d nev
er used for a woman. He wished he could’ve saved it for Melanie.
“Sounds great. I’ll have the shrimp Caesar salad.” Julia closed her menu and flattened her hand on the table. She stared at it, drummed her fingers then shot a look at Adam.
Oh. Right. He took her hand in his, but it felt wrong. This wasn’t where he belonged. This wasn’t the person he should be with. Of course, the person he wanted to be with, or at least have a chance with, had put him in this situation to start. So maybe it was best to just shut up, continue the charade and hope for the best. The LangTel gala was little more than three weeks away, and Melanie’s assignment would be ending. He could try then. Try and possibly get shut down, again, but try he could.
“We should get our stories straight,” Julia said once they’d ordered their entrees. “You know, how we got back together. People are going to ask questions. We need to have answers or it won’t be believable.”
Adam pinched the bridge of his nose. He was creative when it came to software and web applications, not when it came to making up stories. “Why don’t you start?”
Julia sat up tall and smiled, an almost wistful look on her face. “I spent some time thinking about it today. I’m thinking that you called me when you heard that I was moving back to New York. Your life was in a shambles, of course. I mean, you’d really hit a low point.”
Adam blinked, disbelieving what she said, even when it was the truth. “Uh, yeah. I get it.” He shifted in his seat.
“We talked for hours on the phone that night and I agreed, hesitantly, to let you come by my apartment when I got into the city.”
“Why hesitantly?”
“Adam, be serious. Of course I’d seen those horrible photos. They were all over the internet. What woman wouldn’t be at least a little leery of you?”
His stomach soured. That could be one of Melanie’s doubts, too. She’d seen the worst side of him and been hired to show only the good. “I suppose you’re right.”
“You brought me flowers, white roses, I’m thinking, as a sign of good intentions.”
“I thought white roses were for apologies.”
“Well, you did break up with me.”
“I thought we mutually decided to break up. And no one is going to believe that I broke up with you. That’s absurd.” He shook his head. Talk about absurd, this entire conversation was absurd.
“Okay, fine. Red roses. For passion.” Julia winked at him flirtatiously.
Adam didn’t say a thing. He just took a gulp of his bourbon.
“Sparks flew the minute we saw each other,” Julia continued. “We knew that we had to get back together.”
Adam leaned forward. “What do we say in a month when we end up breaking up?”
“Oh, the usual.” Julia took a ladylike sip of her wine. “Two people devoted to their careers couldn’t find a way to make enough time for each other. That’s believable, right?”
A slow and steady sigh escaped Adam’s lips. “More than you know, honey. More than you know.”
Eight
The tabloid photos of Adam and Julia outside the restaurant on their first “fake” date were one thing—painful to look at, but tolerable. The shots of them having coffee a few days later were another thing—an odd ache cropped up in Melanie’s chest, but she told herself it was heartburn.
There was hand-holding in the pictures. There were smiles. There were what might be construed as romantic glances. It was enough to make a girl give up all hope, which Melanie had already nearly done, all in the name of saving her business. But today, he was staring at Julia’s butt. How much of this would she be able to take?
Fidgeting in her seat in the waiting room at Adam’s office, she flipped open the newspaper, forcing herself to look at the photos of Julia and Adam running in Central Park with Jack. They looked so right together—smiling and running. It made her entire body hurt. After all, who smiles on a run? People ridiculously in love, that’s who.
Adam and Julia were a perfect match on paper, as beautiful as could be. Adam, in particular, looked drop-dead gorgeous. Every woman in the city was probably gawking at these pictures. His gray Knicks T-shirt was stretched across his chest and stomach, taut enough that she could make out the subtle ripples of his abs. Oh, the kisses she’d bestowed on that magnificent stomach of his. The sensation of her lips on his skin still lingered. And now those abs were as off-limits as an entire cheesecake on a diet.
Hands down, the picture of the post-run stretch was the most painful. Julia, donning skin-tight black leggings and a similarly fitting tank top, was bending over, touching her toes. Adam, being a man, or at least Melanie was sure that would be his excuse, was ogling her butt. Julia had apparently received a free pass on gravity. I could do five million squats and my behind would never look that good.
Part of her wanted to take Adam to task over the photo since he was displaying the sort of behavior that had tripped him up in the first place, but the papers thought it was sexy, giving it the headline For His Eyes Only.
This was no way to start her day, not when she was about to spend the next two hours with Adam. Any minute now she’d be called into his office to help direct an online press conference, where he was set to speak with a dozen major business publications from around the globe via webcam. Today wasn’t about the scandal. It was about putting the spotlight on Adam’s business prowess, all to impress the LangTel board of directors.
She glanced at her watch. Adam was already five minutes behind on the schedule she’d given him. Luckily, she’d anticipated this and had given him the wrong time on purpose, just so that he wouldn’t mess up.
“Ms. Costello, Mr. Langford will see you now,” Adam’s assistant, Mia, said, appearing from a door adjacent to the spacious lobby.
Melanie followed her through the door and down a wide corridor as a steady stream of employees flowed back and forth from one open workspace to the next. The entire office was abuzz with people, countless staff, an army of Adam’s choosing. She couldn’t fathom the luxury of that much help.
Mia rapped on a door and opened it for Melanie. Adam’s office was easily twice the size of Melanie’s apartment—a luxurious yet modern space that was, like Adam, handsome and impressive. He was seated behind a sleek, black desk, phone to his ear, his back turned to her.
“We have the computer and monitors set up for the interviews.” Mia pointed to a conference table on the far side of the room.
“Great. Thank you,” Melanie whispered, not wanting to disturb Adam. She was taking a seat when he spoke.
“Hi there.”
She glanced over at him. The instant their eyes connected, she was in trouble. It sent waves of attraction through her, which given the photos in the paper, only irritated her.
“Hi yourself.” She wished she could’ve hidden the biting tone of her voice, but it was impossible. Her annoyance over him staring at Julia’s miraculous butt wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. It would take a blowtorch to remove that image from her head. “This shouldn’t last more than ninety minutes.” She powered on the computer in front of her. “This has a webcam, right?”
“Of course. This is state of the art. What computer doesn’t have a webcam?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your office equipment.”
“You okay? You seem agitated.” He grabbed that morning’s newspaper off his desk and walked it over to her. “You’ve seen this, right? This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? Everybody in the office was talking about it when I got to work. My dad called to tell me he loved it.”
Melanie folded her arms across her chest. “Yes, I saw. Well done. Maybe next time don’t get caught staring at her butt.”
“Is that what this is about? Didn’t like seeing that, huh?” Adam grinned like the damned Cheshire cat, taking a seat in the chair next to h
er. “Are you jealous?”
Melanie narrowed her focus, beyond perturbed by the question. “I’m trying to make you look like less of a womanizer, not more.”
“Oh, come on.” Adam shook his head, half laughing. “You can’t be serious. Any man in the world would’ve done what I did. Her ass is spectacular. There’s no harm in looking.”
A heavy sigh left her lips, even when she didn’t want him to see how much it bothered her. Did he have to use the word spectacular? It felt like a punch in the stomach. “Somehow I knew you would use the guy defense. I swear, men are so predictable sometimes. You see a pretty face and you just can’t control yourself.”
“Or a particularly attractive derriere, as the case may be.” He leaned back in the office chair, arching both of his eyebrows at her, clearly enjoying himself. Mischief sparked in his steely eyes, even more compelling than usual when complemented by his deep blue dress shirt, tailored to flaunt every glorious inch of his chest and shoulders.
“Don’t be cute. You have an interview to do in a minute. We can’t be talking about this right now.”
“Sure we can. They can wait. I want to know why this is bothering you.”
“And I don’t care to talk about it. You ended up in the newspaper with Julia. That’s all I can ask.”
The computer screen sprang to life, a grid of a dozen unfamiliar faces. The man in the upper right-hand corner waved. “Hello, Mr. Langford. Ms. Costello. I’ll be moderating the chat today. We’ll be ready to start in a few minutes.”
“Sounds great. We’re ready.” Melanie neatly arranged her notes and pen.
“Actually, we’re going to need about five minutes if that’s okay,” Adam said.
The moderator looked up from his desk. “Uh, sure, Mr. Langford. Just don’t make it any longer than that. The journalists joining us today are all on a tight schedule.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t hold you up.” Adam reached over and muted the computer. “I want to know why the photo bothers you so much. Or do I have to remind you that it was your idea to fix me up with Julia?”