Bastard, I nearly muttered out loud, but I shrugged it off. “I told Matt I knew you in high school and that we went out. Juan Carlos knows as well. I agree it’s not something we need gossip about.”
“Precisely.”
I stared him down as the same question reverberated inside me, wanting to get out: Why? Why had he taken the job—practically lying in order to do it? I understood why the BBC likewise wouldn’t want a White House correspondent who’d ever been romantically involved with a presidential press secretary. He could go soft on the administration or let something slip. So why had he risked his job? Was it just to take a choice assignment at the White House?
Whatever the answer, I wasn’t going to find out that afternoon. His eyes gave nothing away, and my phone buzzed again.
“Thanks for lunch,” I said, seizing my escape. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes. Tomorrow,” he said with a smile.
That night when I got home, Lisa didn’t even wait for me to put down my bag before she pounced. Leaning against the foyer wall, she asked, “So how was lunch with Adam?”
I dropped my bag on the floor, where it landed with a thud. “Fine, but you know I did other things today, too—like work, for example.”
“Whatever. Tell me what happened.”
“We ate lunch, and we caught up on our lives.”
“And?”
“It was a little awkward—”
“A little?”
“Okay.” I laughed. “At times, it was incredibly awkward.”
“That’s more realistic.”
“But we had a nice time, and there was no big revelation.” Hanging my winter coat in the closet, I sighed. “From what I can tell, he has a girlfriend, and I have a boyfriend, and we simply happen to work in the same field.” I shut the door. “Thus ends the story.”
“So it’s just a coincidence that you’re in daily contact again?”
“I think so.” I checked my phone to see a waiting voicemail from Juan Carlos. “If you don’t mind, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Hmpf.” She crossed her arms in dissatisfaction.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What are you getting at? Like this is fate?”
“Did I say that?”
“You’re a scientist, and I know you don’t believe in fate.”
“I don’t.”
“But now you don’t believe in coincidence either?” I threw my hand on my hip.
“Yes, I’m a scientist. Of course I don’t believe in fate, but true coincidences are highly rare.” She turned around and walked to the living room, grumbling from behind, “I believe in cause and effect.”
Alone in the foyer, I caught sight of myself in the mirror above the table where we stashed our purses and bags. The dark circles under my eyes caused me to take a step closer to get a better look. With each passing year, the person in the mirror had been slowly changing from Nicki, the girl I’d been all my life, to Nicole, the woman I now was. Lines had begun to permanently mark my face. I grimaced. Years of working stressful political jobs at a breakneck pace had taken their toll. I looked old.
Did Adam think I’d aged? That Felicity seemed younger than me. Adam was my age, and men liked younger women.
Staring at myself in the mirror, a memory floated back to me—one that I’d done my best to keep forgotten. It was from the night before Adam had moved back to England, when he’d asked, “Nicki, will we ever speak to each other again?”
“I…don’t know,” I said. “I guess never say never, but it’s kind of unlikely. Our lives are going to be very different. I mean, we really do live a world apart. An ocean apart, anyway.”
His silence was deafening. So much so that I felt like I had to make an offer, but it was so improbable, I was comfortable saying it. “Maybe. Maybe, if we were living in the same city.”
“As you said, that’s probably not going to happen.”
“Probably not.”
Yet now the improbable had happened. The adult woman in the mirror stared me down with no answers to my questions. It was frustrating. When it came to Adam, I might as well have been a teenager again.
Chapter Four
FOR THE NEXT FEW WEEKS, I stuck to my old life—a life without Adam in it. I focused on Juan Carlos, and at work I concentrated on the tasks at hand. For the hour or so I was in the same room with Adam every day, I ignored him. Yes, he would creep into my mind, but I’d quickly force out any thought of him. It was simply a coincidence we were both in DC to do our jobs. There was nothing more to it.
One Friday, I got stuck talking with Dan Roark after the briefing. He was handsome in that star-quarterback kind of way, and he used his looks to get in good with female sources. I always thought there was something slimy about him, but I had to be fair to everyone. That meant I had to listen to him drone on about rumors he’d heard about investigative hearings on the Hill, even though I knew he was only creating gossip to see what my reaction would be.
I was just about to extricate myself from the conversation when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adam approach Matt and say, “Matthew, do you have a minute? It’ll be short.”
How I wanted to hear what Adam was going to say and how Matt would react. I didn’t think Matt would bring up high school, but what if he did? If I was going to listen to their conversation, I would have to keep talking with Dan. Yuck.
With a smile, I persevered and told him a lie that would keep him talking for hours. “I really don’t know the Hill that well. How long have you been covering Congress? It’s really fascinating.”
Dan gave me a smug smile. Great. He thought I was flirting with him, but as he went on about his fabulous career, I tuned him out and listened to Adam and Matt.
Matt gave Adam a backslap and said, “Sure, I’ll talk today, but we should probably get coffee or something soon—and definitely before we head overseas.”
“Wonderful. I’ll speak to your assistant to arrange a time. I need some immediate help, though.”
“What’s that?”
“I’m working on a story on the new administration and China,” Adam said, tapping his reporter’s notebook. “I was wondering who the best person is to talk to about China’s devalued currency. Is there someone you recommend at Treasury?”
“Now, Adam, don’t put words in our mouth.” Matt chuckled. “I don’t believe the president has made any official comments about the value of China’s currency.”
“Ah, that’s part of my story,” he said with a smile. “The president mentioned it during the campaign as a major economic issue for the US.”
“I gotta tell you. This is not at the top of Treasury’s mind right now. Hell, we’re still working to get the Secretary confirmed by the Senate.” Matt then looked over his shoulder and said, “Let me see what I can do for you. How about talking to Nicole? She handles all the wonky stuff.”
My stomach clenched when I heard Matt say my name. I didn’t want to talk to Adam, especially with Matt standing by, but there was no way to get out of it. I cut Dan off mid-sentence and sent him on his way. At least it was an abrupt enough ending to show I hadn’t been flirting.
I turned to Matt. “Excuse me? What do you need me for?”
“Adam here needs some background on the president’s thinking about the Chinese currency.” His voice was flat, but his eyes were mirthful as he added, “I believe you two know each other.”
“Yeah…” I said. So Matt was going to torment me about Adam. Wonderful.
Adam seemed unruffled by the comment. “Yes, we’ve known each other for a while.”
“Great. No introductions are necessary,” Matt said, slapping Adam’s back again. Then he motioned toward the door. “Nicole, I need to leave. Can you make sure to cover that meeting for me at noon?”
“Sure,” I said as he walked away. I loved my boss, but at that moment…not so much. I looked up at Adam. “Hi.”
“Hello.” He smil
ed. “How are you? Shame we haven’t been able to talk this week.”
“Yes…it’s been busy. Is there something you needed besides this China question?”
Adam was quiet and simply rolled his pen between his fingers as if he hadn’t heard me, so I launched into work. That was the appropriate thing to do and the proper topic. “As a candidate, President Logan often spoke of his belief—a widely held belief, I might add—that China artificially manipulates the yuan in order to unfairly bolster its exports.”
“It’s not so widely held. The Chinese government disagrees.”
I hadn’t really expected a retort from him. Well, if he wanted to debate, we could do that. “And your own government agrees. Great Britain has long concurred with the assessment that the yuan is undervalued.”
“Yes, the British government agrees, but that doesn’t make it so. If it’s such a pressing issue, why isn’t President Logan working on it right now? What does he plan to do?”
“At the appropriate time, no doubt, the president will address the issue again. When that will be or what it might look like, I don’t know.”
Adam scribbled notes as I spoke and kept his head down as he asked, “Does he believe that China’s currency manipulation is contributing to the global recession?”
“There are many factors that have created the recession. The president is simply concerned about any effect China’s monetary actions are having on American jobs. The trade deficit impacts the lives of working men and women by sending production overseas.”
“With regard to China, what is he planning to do?”
“President Logan will always act to save American jobs.” I cracked a smile as I said the words. It was a platitude I’d repeated a hundred times, but somehow saying it to Adam made me realize it sounded kind of corny.
He looked up from his notebook, and his eyes lit up on noticing I was laughing at myself. “Does that include trade protections that the WTO might take issue with?”
“I think I told you I don’t know what the president will do.” I laughed. It always had been fun debating him.
“It looks like we’ve both done our jobs.”
“What do you mean?”
“I asked the tough questions, and you responded that you don’t know when clearly you do.”
“What do you think I know?”
“You tell me.” He gave me a playful look, inviting me to volley back at him. “I’m not sure.”
No one could say we were flirting. After all, we were talking about the Chinese currency. Could there be anything less romantic or sexy? Yet it didn’t feel like a dry work conversation to me. It was playful and fun, and I needed to cut it off.
“I have to go,” I said. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t more help. I’ll have someone follow up with you. Bye.” Turning on my heel, I fled the room.
On Saturday night, Adam was the furthest thing from my mind. Juan Carlos was in town, and a big group of us had ventured out to a great tapas place in Adams Morgan. It had good food, strong mojitos, and a big dance floor for salsa dancing. The whole vibe of the place was a precursor to sex.
And when Juan Carlos danced with me, sex was all I could think about. He was an amazing dancer. The worst dance partners were always those who couldn’t lead. I was a feminist, but damn it, I couldn’t stand a man who couldn’t lead on the dance floor. It was so frustrating, and I’d end up taking over because they were so lame. There was none of that with Juan Carlos. He whipped you around with an authority that just made you want to follow him anywhere, and he could make even the worst dance partner look good.
That night we danced and had a great time. Occasionally, I’d look down and watch his hips swivel, which of course made me think of the reunion sex we’d be having later. It had been a while since we were in the same city.
When the DJ switched the music to a slow song, he smiled at me. “Do you want a break, or should we continue?”
“I could use a break,” I said, lifting my hair up to fan myself.
With his hand around my waist, Juan Carlos began to lead me over to our table, where Lisa and the rest of our party were waiting. He stopped in his tracks when a man walked directly in front of us, blocking our way. I looked up to see who the asshole was, and my mouth gaped open.
“Hello,” said Adam, standing before us with a smile. He offered his hand to Juan Carlos. “Adam Kincaid. You’re Juan Carlos Jimenez, correct?”
“Yes,” Juan Carlos replied, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. The BBC, right? I’ve seen you before.”
“Yes, I’m with the BBC,” Adam said as he withdrew his hand.
I’d told Juan Carlos about my lunch with him, stressing that Adam had a girlfriend, a very public one in fact, but Juan Carlos still pulled me in tighter. “I believe you and Nicki know each other.”
“Yes, we’ve known each other for a while,” said Adam matter-of-factly.
“Hi, Adam,” I said, not quite mustering up a reciprocal smile.
He turned to Juan Carlos. “Do you mind if I have a quick dance?”
Holy shit. Adam wanted to dance with me. Normally I hated the ritual of a man breaking in to dance. The guy always asked the other guy, rather than you, and all of sudden you weren’t in the twenty-first century anymore. You were back in the nineteenth, and you were chattel. That night, though, I was happy to have someone running interference for me.
Juan Carlos studied Adam for the briefest moment. I couldn’t tell if he thought Adam was harmless or just thought refusing him was a stupid move, even if he really wanted to. Regardless, he didn’t help me out. He simply shrugged and asked me to make the decision. “Nicki?”
“Sure,” I said as nonchalantly as possible. “I’ll meet you back at the table in a minute.”
Juan Carlos squeezed my hand and then grinned at Adam. “Come over to our table when you’re done.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that,” Adam said.
As I watched Juan Carlos walk away, I felt Adam take my hand, and before I knew it, I was in his arms. With an incredibly romantic song playing in the background, I placed my hand on his shoulder. The bizarre scene left me speechless, so I lifted my eyes to see what Adam thought of all this.
“How are you?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
“Good.” I swallowed, searching for small talk. “Who are you here with?”
“David. I’m sure he’d like to talk to you.”
“Of course. David.” As if events weren’t crazy enough, throw in the cousin, too.
“He’s in town for a meeting at the SEC on Monday.”
“Where are you two sitting?”
Adam surveyed the room, stopped, and then shook his head with a laugh. “It looks like we’re sitting with you now.”
“What do you mean?”
“David appears to have joined your table.”
“What?” It came out a little too loud, though I didn’t care. I was in a panic. I furiously craned my neck over the crowd to find the table, but I was too short.
“He’s sitting next to Lisa. I apologize in advance if he makes a pass at her.”
“Are you crazy? That’s the last thing I’m worried about. What is he going to say?” Then a worse thought hit me. “What is she going to say? Oh my God.”
“Don’t worry. David won’t cause a scene. He’s got things under control.” Adam peered over at the table again. “He’ll take care of Lisa. I’m sure he’s laying on the Cockney charm and everyone’s getting on just fine. I see Juan Carlos is laughing.”
That was reassuring. Sort of. I gave him a quick smile but remained quiet. Maybe if I said nothing, the music would finish more quickly. Unfortunately, the silence made me concentrate on the lyrics. As I rested my hand on Adam’s shoulder, which seemed much broader than I’d remembered it, I realized the words were far too sexy for a dance with Adam. Thank God he didn’t know Spanish.
I had to say something to start a conversation, so I stated the obvious. “We’re dancing.”
/> “Yes, we are.” He took a breath and said, “I don’t believe we ever did that.”
“I don’t think so either.” I laughed.
He arched a brow, which seemed to suggest all the things we did do together. I had to look away as my mind raced through some very naughty memories.
“Nicki, you’re blushing. I think I know why.”
I tried playing dumb. “Why?”
“Because you’re thinking what I’m thinking.”
I’d always been a sucker for that special twinkle in his eye when he would tease me, like he was onto me and couldn’t wait to see what I’d do next. That night, the twinkle was in full force, and I gave in with a sigh. “In an effort to keep things from being awkward between us, I’ll say those were fun times.”
“I thought so,” he said in a more serious tone.
The twinkle vanished as he splayed his hand across my back and pulled me toward him. I was only an inch closer, but it was enough for my body to realize who it was next to. Staring at his chest, I saw Adam was right there and ready for the taking. My smile faded as crazy pheromones took over. All I wanted was to mash my body against his and feel him once more.
I looked up, curious what he was thinking. When I saw at least a kiss was on his mind, my lips parted in a mix of fear and want. As if the universe swooped in to save me from myself, the song finally ended.
“I should get back,” I mumbled. “Thanks for the dance.”
“I think I get another dance since I only got half of the last one.”
Stunned by his demand and my complete inability to say no to the guy, I gave him a silent nod. I hadn’t totally lost my senses to dormant teenage hormones, though. I made sure there was a safe distance between us, and somehow the separation allowed me to be direct.
“Adam, what are you doing?”
“To be quite honest, I’m not sure.”
He seemed candid, but I couldn’t handle any more ambiguity. I needed an answer to the question that had been bugging me for weeks. “Why did you take the White House job?”
“Why do you think?”
Disclosure of the Heart (The Heart Series) Page 4