by Karen Booth
Adam knew exactly where he wanted to put his mouth, squarely on hers. “This isn’t really the place for dancing.” Flaherty’s customers were accustomed to their feet sticking to the floor. It wasn’t exactly the place to bust out a box step.
“Maybe we need to change that.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her hip.
She was lucky his fingers didn’t have a mind of their own because her dress had a tie at the hip, and that was precisely where she’d placed his hand. That stretch of cobalt blue knit would be gone in two seconds flat if his hands were in charge.
He took her other hand, wrapped his fingers around hers, bringing her right next to him with a decisive tug. “What if I told you I don’t dance?” He led her in a small circle on their impromptu dance floor, sliding his hand to the small of her back. His hand fit perfectly.
“I’d say you’re a liar,” she muttered, following him in their back-and-forth sway. It was only the slightest of surrenders, but he’d take what he could get. Every last drop.
“The truth is that I really don’t like to dance, but I like this. A lot. At least I can have you in my arms.”
“Is three minutes long enough? That’s how long a song is, right?”
“We put in two dollars. I bought myself a good twenty-four minutes if my math is correct.”
“If you play your cards right, I’ll stick around that long.”
Adam laughed quietly. “You and I are exceptionally good at talking in circles around each other. Neither one of us wants to give in and say what we’re really thinking.”
Melanie looked up into his eyes, unafraid. “So just tell me, Adam. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Maybe her bravery was born of the mojitos, but he’d have to match it with his own bravado.
He sucked in a deep breath, steeling himself, hoping this wasn’t going to make her put up an even bigger wall between them. The last time he’d been honest about his feelings, she’d done exactly that. “I’m thinking that you’re beautiful and smart and sexy and fun to be with. I’m thinking that any man who would walk out on you is a moron. I’m thinking that I might not be much better for spending time with Julia when I could be trying to build something with you.”
Her lashes fluttered as she seemed to wrestle with what he’d said. “Wow.”
“Too much?”
“Um, no.” She shook her head. “I’m just surprised.”
“By what part? Surely you know how I feel about you. Surely you know that I’d take a chance with you if I had one.”
“And to what end? So we can date for a week or two and you can get bored of me?”
His heart pounded fiercely. If he’d ever been bored with a woman, it was only because she wasn’t the complete package. She wasn’t like Melanie. “I would never get bored of you. Ever.”
“How am I supposed to believe that, Adam? Even when you were engaged, she didn’t manage to hold your interest.”
Thirteen
Roger Langford was paying Melanie a significant sum of money, but her job description didn’t include party-planning duties. She took on the extra work partly because the annual LangTel gala also raised money for charity. The other half of the equation was that all of her work with Adam led up to this one night. It had to be perfect. She would do everything she could to make sure that it was nothing less.
Several minutes late and fighting a monster headache, Melanie rushed into the grand ballroom where the gala was to be held. Anna, Adam’s sister, was already there.
Anna smiled and shook Melanie’s hand. “Thank you for meeting me and helping out. I’m a fish out of water with this sort of thing.” Her long chestnut brown hair, the color exactly like Adam’s, was pulled back in a high ponytail. Also like Adam, she was confident, but hers was more reserved than cocky. Her demeanor exuded grace and professionalism.
Melanie placed her bag on a table, wishing she’d taken more pain reliever before she’d left the office. “It’s not a problem. I have a fair amount of experience organizing parties. Every now and then I end up doing one for a client.”
Just thinking about the gala made the corners of Melanie’s mouth draw down. That night would spell the end of working with Adam. He’d go back to his life, she’d go back to hers. As to what that entailed, she wasn’t sure. She’d thought once or twice that maybe she and Adam could go out to dinner once her assignment was over, although she wasn’t sure how that would work either. Did she have the guts to ask him out on a date? Sitting around and waiting for him to do it would be torture. Not that it would matter. For all she knew, Julia and Adam would be running away together after the party.
The two women walked the opulent space, going through the notes Roger Langford’s assistant had given them. Table linens, decor and menu had been decided months ago. It was really Melanie and Anna’s job just to discuss how the flow and timing of the party would work, since Roger would be making his big announcement and Adam making the closing comments.
“An hour for cocktails should be sufficient, I think,” Melanie said. “I’ll make sure the media has an unobtrusive spot to view everything. Your dad gives his speech, which I hope will be short.” Her phone rang, but she let it go to voice mail.
Anna let out a breathy laugh that said she didn’t find it funny. “Don’t bet on that one. My father loves the sound of his own voice.”
“I already need to work with Adam on what he’s going to say, so I’ll coach your dad, as well. If he goes too long, the networks will chop it up for broadcast. There are already enough misperceptions about your family. We don’t need to add to them.” In her planner, Melanie scribbled down a reminder about the speeches. “After that, Adam takes the stage and addresses everyone, we have a toast and dinner is served.”
“The king will have ascended to the throne.”
Precisely—Adam’s long-awaited chance to take over his father’s massive corporation. “It is almost like a coronation, isn’t it?”
Anna nodded slowly. “From everything my mother says, my father has been waiting since the moment Adam was born for this to happen.” Her voice faltered, but she wasn’t choking back tears. As near as Melanie could tell, Anna had extreme command of her emotions. “Of course, we all thought it would happen when my dad retired. We never imagined it would be because he’s dying.”
Melanie’s heart ached for Anna, and for Adam, as well. Watching their father fade away had to be so difficult. Did it make things easier that Roger had opted to keep the severity of his illness a secret, or had that added to the family’s burden? Adam didn’t always talk about it, but she’d seen how much it weighed on him. “I can only imagine how hard this must be for you.” Her phone rang, but she let it go to voice mail again. If only there was more she could say, or something she could do to make it better, but it was an unsolvable problem. They’d be lucky if Roger Langford lived to see another Christmas with his family.
“Thank you,” Anna said. “I’m not really sure why my father put me in charge of the final party details, aside from the fact that he felt like he needed to throw me a bone. And I’m a girl. There’s that, too.”
“Throw you a bone?”
Anna looked up at the ceiling. “I’m surprised Adam hasn’t told you, considering how much time you two spend together. I’ve been lobbying to take Adam’s place since before my dad got sick. I’d like to be the one to carry out his vision for LangTel. Unfortunately, my dad’s logic is straight out of the 1950s. He only approves of me in business if I’m shopping for a husband while I do it.”
Melanie had no idea that the sibling rivalry between Adam and Anna was so intense that they would be at odds over running the company. As much as she wanted Adam to take his rightful position, she sympathized with Anna. “My dad treats me the same way. He’s just waiting for me to fail, so that he can tell me that he told me so. Of course, that only makes me
want to work harder to prove him wrong.”
Anna smirked. “Exactly. Do you have any idea how hard I worked at Harvard to beat Adam’s GPA? Just so I could show my dad that I was equally capable?”
“I can only imagine. Your brother is a smart guy. I’m sure his grades were nearly impossible to beat.”
“Tough, yes. Impossible, no. I did it, but it wasn’t by much.”
Melanie’s phone rang for the third time. “Somebody really wants to get a hold of me. I’m so sorry.”
She held up her finger while Anna mouthed, “No problem.”
“Hello? This is Melanie.”
“Ms. Costello, this is Beth, one of the producers for the Midnight Hour. We’ve had a last-minute cancellation on tonight’s show. One of our guests has fallen ill. Is Adam Langford still available? We’d love to have him if he is.”
Melanie glanced at her watch. “What time?”
“Can he be here in an hour for hair and makeup?”
Oh, crap. “Yes. Of course. We’ll be there.”
* * *
Two hours after Adam received the frantic phone call from Melanie, he was ready to walk out in front of the Midnight Hour cameras. Almost ready. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t stop sweating.”
Melanie waved a magazine in front of his face. “You’re going to have to find a way to stop. By sheer willpower or something.” Judging by the expression on her face, she was as horrified by his physical state as he was.
“Maybe if I’d had more notice.” He wished he hadn’t sounded so annoyed, but he was still bothered by the things she’d said when they’d gone to Flaherty’s a few nights before.
Yes, he’d made mistakes when he was engaged. He knew better now, even if no one seemed to believe him. And Melanie’s suggestion that he’d get bored with her was absurd. Part of the reason he was so drawn to her was because he was certain she’d never bore him. Still, he had to admit that she had reason to bring it up. There’d been a time when women went through a revolving door in his life. Her comments weren’t completely unfounded.
“Relax,” she said, working hard to convey calm. “It’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t understand. I never get nervous. It’s an omen or something.” Adam ran his hand through his hair.
“Stop messing with your hair. You’ll make it look weird.”
He groaned under his breath. “Do you realize that I’m about to go on a show that millions of people watch? People who expect guests to be funny and charming and clever.” Why had he agreed to do this? This was not what he did. He was always in control. He was always in charge. He didn’t allow himself to fall prey to circumstances, but being on this show—the lights, the audience, the host—made him feel as if he was about to do exactly that. “I can’t perform on command.”
Melanie smirked. “I don’t enjoy seeing you uncomfortable, but I do like seeing a chink in the armor every now and then.” She firmly placed her hands on his shoulders. “First off, you need to take about ten deep breaths. Second off, you need another shirt. I’m not letting you go on television in the one you’re wearing.” She strode over to the garment rack in his tiny dressing room and picked out what was supposed to be a backup. “Take off your shirt.”
“This is no time for sex.”
“Okay, Mr. I Can’t Be Funny and Charming on Command. You’re going to be fine. Now take off your shirt so we can get you out there.”
Adam unbuttoned, distracting himself with the vision of Melanie. Every inch of his body warmed to the idea of doing this with her, taking off clothes, for real. In his fantasy, she did the unbuttoning. Always. How disappointed his body would be when he had to break the news. Melanie didn’t take him seriously when it came to romance. Her career and her company were her first priority, and it would be hypocritical to blame her—he’d suffered a broken engagement for the same reason.
Melanie grabbed deodorant from the dressing table and thrust it at him. “This reminds me that we need to decide what you’re wearing to the gala. We need something that will look perfect in pictures and on television. We can do it when we go over your speech.”
“Uh, okay. Sure.”
“Mr. Langford?” The stage manager leaned into the room, clipboard in hand. “Five minutes until you’re on.” She then seemed to realize the problem. “You have thirty seconds to get that shirt on or I’m going to go into cardiac arrest. Makeup is on their way for touch-ups.”
Melanie shook out the shirt and held it for him. “I’ll button the front. You do the cuffs.”
The makeup woman whizzed into the room. She tucked two tissues into his shirt collar and dabbed at his face with a large cosmetic sponge. “You’re sweating,” she remarked, pursing her lips. “You need to stop doing that.”
“He’ll be fine.” Melanie cocked her head to the side, finishing the buttons. “He’s so damn handsome, the camera will love him no matter how sweaty he is.”
He knew she was just trying to distract him, but his heart felt lighter to hear her say something like that. He couldn’t help it.
The makeup woman whisked away the tissues around his collar. “That’s as good as it’s going to get.”
Melanie straightened his shirt, brushing his shoulder. “You say you’re nervous, but you’re really not. I’ve had clients who were far more on edge than you. You make it look like a piece of cake.”
“If I’m not nervous, it’s because of you.”
The look she gave him—sweet and kind, edged with skepticism—was enough to make him forget all time and place. “You’re going to be great. I know you. You’ll knock ’em dead.”
When was the last time someone had said something like that to him? “You’re amazing. I don’t think anyone else would be this patient with me.”
“I have complete confidence in you. I never doubt your ability to do anything.”
He leaned forward, grasped her elbows and kissed her on the temple. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She nearly leaned into the kiss, placing the tips of her fingers on his chest. She peered up into his face then shied away with a blush that would’ve made a rose envious.
The stage manager poked her head into the dressing room. “Mr. Langford. You’re on.” She led them down the short hall to the stage entrance.
He took a deep breath. If he didn’t stop thinking about Melanie, he’d have more than a sex scandal to explain on national TV. He conjured one of his most unpleasant memories in hopes of stemming the tide of blood flow between his legs. “I haven’t been this nervous since I ran for class president in sixth grade.”
“Oh, please. I’m guessing you were formidable even at eleven years old.”
“Are you kidding? It was a disaster.” He looked back over his shoulder before he stepped between the gap in the velvet stage drapes. “I lost by a landslide.”
* * *
Melanie had prepared herself for the worst. What a waste of time.
The instant Adam was out under the studio lights, he turned on his irresistible charm and the entire world fell under his spell, or at least everyone watching in that studio. Melanie knew very well what it was like to get swept up in Adam. The audience never stood a chance.
The host, Billy Danville, didn’t hesitate to poke fun, starting the interview by donning a tiara that spelled out “Princess” in glittery rhinestones above his head. “So, Adam. I understand there’s been a scandal.”
Three weeks ago, Adam wouldn’t have been able to take the joke. He would’ve rolled his eyes in disgust and admonished everyone in that room for caring about the personal life of someone they didn’t know.
Not today. Adam didn’t flinch. He sat back in his chair, a wry smile on his face. “Has there been a scandal? I’ve been so wrapped up in college basketball that I hadn’t noticed.�
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The audience laughed. The host laughed. Melanie chuckled a bit as well, but mostly she was in awe of Adam.
“But, seriously,” Billy said, thankfully ditching the tiara, “it looks like you’ve put the scandal behind you. We’ve all had a chance over the last few weeks to get to know you from the various interviews you’ve done, which is great. We know now that you’re not just a ridiculously handsome tech whiz, but that you also have a fondness for staring at your girlfriend’s rear end.”
“The great American pastime,” Adam countered.
Billy smiled. “Indeed. You know, just this morning, I was thinking I should spend more time looking at your girlfriend’s rear end.”
The crowd erupted again.
“But seriously, tell us about your relationship with Julia Keys,” Billy continued. “Things are looking pretty hot and heavy in the newspapers. Are there wedding bells in the future?”
Wedding bells? Melanie held her breath, unsure how Adam would answer, unsure what she wanted him to say. With every passing day, his relationship with Julia continued to look real. And that was what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? She’d asked him to make it convincing. She’d practically shoved him into Julia’s arms.
Adam shifted in his seat. “No. No wedding bells, despite what the tabloids want to speculate about.”
“Everything’s good, though?”
“Oh, sure. Everything’s great. What can I say? Julia is a beautiful, smart and talented woman. Any guy would be lucky to spend time with her.” On that topic in particular, Adam seemed as calm as could be.
Billy nodded eagerly. “Of course. I mean, give her my number in case she gives you the heave-ho.”
Adam continued to roll with the punches, taking the jokes at his expense, handling every sensitive subject, and there were many, including the things his ex-fiancée had said about his ability to commit, and ultimately, the question of his father’s health.
Billy gathered a stack of index cards in his hands. “I hate to bring this up, but there are an awful lot of rumors that your father’s illness is much worse than we’ve been led to believe.”