It was the look on his face—in his eyes--that had kept her glued to that seat for the last few hours, rewinding over and over. She’d gotten the final cut of The White Keys’ music video a little before 5pm and had been watching it obsessively all night. The last scene of the video was a kiss between Adam and Shaun. It was a kiss that had gone on a touch too long for her comfort, and one that had left Adam lingering more than a few seconds too long as well.
Shaun, ever the professional, had kissed Adam and ended it with at least some dignity intact. Adam, however, with his hand buried in her dark locks and his eyes lidded and filled with desire, was far from professional. In fact, he looked downright shocked, entranced by the woman who’d just laid one on him. Janelle rewound the scene, again, and this time, she was sure she saw Adam attempting to pull Shaun in for more. It was just a split second, but it was there.
She snatched the phone up and dialed his number with a fury.
He answered on the first ring. “What have I done now?”
“I just got the final cut of the music video,” Janelle said. “And I just have one thing to say to you, Adam…”
Adam gave her a moment and when nothing came, he bit. “And what would that be, Your Highness?”
“Watch your step,” Janelle warned. “Watch your step and know your place.”
“Okay…” Adam dragged on. “That’s not vague or obscure, at all. Good talk.”
Sensing he was about to hang up, Janelle spoke quickly. “Remember that this isn’t real. This thing with Shaun? It’s just business, Adam. It isn’t real.”
A long silence came from Adam’s end. “I know that.”
“Know it better,” Janelle demanded, pausing her laptop and glaring at the picture it created. Adam and Shaun nose to nose. She was looking off into the distance and he was staring at her, head on, a little too intensely. “It’s bad enough that you refuse to make this girl sign a confidentiality agreement but now…” Janelle motioned to the screen of her laptop, then forced herself to calm down. “Just know your place.”
She heard him swallow from the other end. “Is that all?” Agitation laced his voice.
“Yeah, that’s all,” Janelle said shortly, disconnecting the call.
She rewound the scene again, her stomach curled in knots.
Four
A banging on the door of her apartment at noon scared Shaun so badly she almost burned herself with the iron she was holding. Taking in the crooked crease in her white blouse she slammed the iron onto the board and stomped over to the window next to her door, peeking out of the blinds. A silver Lexus convertible was parked in front of her apartment building.
“What the hell?” She snatched her door open and had to roll her eyes at the sight of Adam standing on her doorstep. “Adam, how did I know it was you?!”
Adam wasn’t looking at her and but was instead glaring at the apartment building across from her where her, slightly senile, gun-wielding 80-year old neighbor, Leroy, had lived for the last eighty years. Leroy was sticking his head out of his open door and screaming at Adam while shaking his old, wrinkled brown arm. “Don’t you be comin’ ‘round here banging on doors like you own the place, white boy. Show some got damn respect!”
Shaun’s eyes nearly bulged out of her skull and she reached out of her open door in an attempt to pull Adam into the safety of her apartment. He clearly had no idea what kind of lunatic he was dealing with.
Adam shrugged away from Shaun’s hand and curled his lip at Leroy. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business, how ‘bout that?”
“What the hell did you just say to me, white boy?” Leroy bent down to reach for something on the other side of his door, the exact place where Shaun knew he kept his shotgun.
Flinching, Shaun leapt onto her porch and grabbed Adam’s arm—he was still glaring at her neighbor head on, showing not even an inch of fear. Was he insane? She jumped in front of him, holding her arms behind her when Adam tried to go around. “He’s kidding, Leroy. He jokes around like this all the time. It’s just his weird sense of humor. After a while you don’t even notice it anymore.” She smiled bashfully.
Adam was still staring Leroy down, attempting to step around Shaun.
Turning to him, she pushed at his chest. “Get inside.”
“What?” Adam asked, looking down at her in disbelief. “What are you talking about, that guy’s an asshole.”
Shaun couldn’t believe her eyes or ears. He was about to get them both shot. “Just get inside,” she said through clenched teeth, watching as Adam hesitantly stepped into her house before she turned back to Leroy with a wave. “Good to see you, Mr. Miller. All right. Have a good rest of your afternoon okay?”
She leapt through the door and slammed it closed, taking in the sight of Adam staring at her in disbelief. “Leroy has killed for less than that. Are you trying to get me blacklisted in my own neighborhood?”
He barely moved, but was staring her down. “You actually live in this shithole?”
Shaun was struck. “This shithole is my home. I work damn hard to keep it up and I don’t appreciate you coming in here and disrespecting it before you’ve even given it a fair chance. I know that my neighbor is a black man and I’m sure that makes you jump to many unfair conclusions given your past history but if you actually gave this shithole neighborhood a chance you might actually find the beauty in it. And there is a lot of beauty in it Adam.”
Adam was already shaking his head. “Nope. I was wrong for what I said in that interview, I’ll give you that, but you don’t get to use that against me for everything. I’m not mad at your neighbor because he’s black, I’m mad at him because he’s a fucking douchebag.”
Shaun crossed her arms and pushed passed him, heading back to her ironing board.
Adam’s eyes followed her into the living space and he was stunned at the sight. She was right, he hadn’t taken the time to look at her place because, if he had, he would have noticed how charming it was. It was a small studio, but the vaulted ceilings made it feel roomy and airy. The cherry wood flooring gave the room an elegant feel. Against the farthest back wall of the space was a bookshelf that reached from floor to ceiling and was jammed packed with what looked like every book that ever existed, as well as a few candles and personal knick-knacks. At the end of the bookcase was a ladder that reached all the way to the top of the impossibly high shelves. Her furniture was modern and he could tell she had a thing for red, black and white. All three of those colors were splattered throughout her kitchen and living area.
A full sized bed situated at the far end of the room was all white and looked plush and inviting. Adam thought about how many men had known that bed. Was it soft? Warm? Did it smell like her? He wondered how many different positions he could get her into in that small bed, how many different ways he could make her scream.
He willed himself to focus. “Look, I didn’t come here to fight.” The space was small, and the neighborhood was sketchy, but her place was well kept, comfortable. And it did smell like her.
“Could have fooled me,” she whispered.
His gaze fell to her lips, which were pressed together as she concentrated on her ironing, but still rocketed him right back to the day before at the shoot. He could still feel her weight on top of him. He could still taste her. His stomach muscles tightened at the thought.
“Why are you here, Adam?” She looked up from the ironing board.
“I got the final cut of the music video this morning. It's pretty sick. I can email it to you if you want.”
Shaun nodded. “Okay. Yeah, I’d love to see it.”
Adam swallowed hard. “What’s your email?”
“It’s [email protected].”
Adam’s eyes grew wide. “UCLA?”
Shaun’s heart began to race. “Yeah.”
“Wow. What are you studying?”
She was able to think on her feet. “Fashion.”
“Ah…” Adam nodded. “I should have guessed, huh?�
� he asked as his eyes searched her body. “I have to be honest though… you somehow… you just don’t strike me as the fashion major type.”
“Well, I’m a model. Models work in fashion.” Even though she was lying, Shaun was offended that he didn’t see her as fashion major material. It seemed like a nice way of saying she had no taste.
“I know that you’re a model you just…” He shrugged. “You’re like this crazy smart chick, too. I figured you’d major in something that involved a lot of… writing…”
Shaun’s heart jumped.
Adam continued. “Or numbers… or analytical thinking. God knows you analyze the hell out of everything else.” He shrugged his shoulders and looked off, willing himself to stop talking.
Shaun was pretending to be very intrigued by the shirt she was ironing and trying desperately to fight the urge to tell him that not only was she a writer, but she loved writing, and had managed to pull a 3.9 GPA in Journalism. She wanted to tell him all of those things, and the reality was that she couldn't. Still, she was drinking in his every word. He’d just said she was smart which, while it was a word she regarded as the highest compliment, could mean one of two things. Either he was really good at reading people or she was just a really bad liar. She looked up at him, thinking it was probably some strange combination of the two. “So that’s why you drove all the way down here? To get my email address and criticize my major?” The truth was that she had a new found respect for him for criticizing her “fashion major.”
Adam watched her quietly for a moment, amused at the concentration on her face as she ironed her shirt. “You know my road crew has three black members in it.”
Shaun blinked, wondering why he’d suddenly said that. “Okay. Is that supposed to give you some kind of street cred?” She asked, letting a small smile touch her lips to show she was joking.
Adam stared at her mouth, wondering why she didn’t smile more. “No, I just… I’ve been working with these guys for years. I’ve met their wives and their kids. I know them so well and I… I didn’t even think about any of them when…” He looked down at his feet.
“When you said those things,” Shaun finished for him, pretending to pay attention to ironing her shirt. The truth was she was all ears.
“Yeah,” Adam said, running a hand through his hair. “Our lighting tech, Lonnie… he’s this monstrously big, black dude… he saw me getting jumped by a bunch of guys in West Hollywood one night, this was, what? Ten, twelve years ago?” Adam asked, before continuing. “And I mean I was getting my fucking ass kicked, Shaun--getting fucked up by five or six dudes. And Lonnie had just started doing the lights for us at the time, we barely knew each other, but he jumped in to help me. And we both got our asses kicked together.”
A pained smiled crossed Shaun’s face. “So you guys didn’t win?”
“Hell no we didn’t win.”
She laughed out loud.
“The point is that he had my back, but I didn’t have his. I’ve met his wife, his daughter, I’ve had dinner at their house and… and I still said all those fucked up things.”
Shaun watched him, iron forgotten.
Adam scoffed and looked away. “I guess what I’m saying is…” He blew a deep breath from his lips and looked back to her. “I’m a huge asshole.”
Shaun nodded in agreement.
He nodded with her. “I am. But I’m not a bad man.”
Shaun rolled her eyes. “I know that.” She played her fingers through her curls. “You said that happened ten or twelve years ago?”
“Yeah.”
An amused smiled crossed her face. “How old are you?”
Adam feigned offense. “How old are you?”
“I asked you first,” Shaun challenged.
“I just turned thirty.”
“Oh my god you’re so old,” Shaun beamed dramatically, giggling at his horrified face. “I’m just teasing you. I’m twenty-four so you’ve only got a few years on me.”
“You say I’m old but, twenty-four?” Adam countered. “You’re still in the womb. You’re so tightly wound, though, you and I could easily switch ages.” He stepped closer to her. “Twenty-four? I eat girls like you for lunch.”
“I bet you do,” She whispered. When she looked up she was levelled by the intensity on Adam’s face. She had to look back down. “So thirty? So that means you’ve been singing since you were eighteen?”
“I’ve been in the industry since I was eighteen, but I have been singing and performing my whole life. Some days I feel like it’s the only thing I’ll ever know how to do right.”
“I get that,” Shaun whispered. She felt the same way about her writing.
He suddenly realized his hands were shaking, a phenomenon he was not accustomed to, so he shoved them in his pockets. “You going somewhere today?”
Shaun had commenced her ironing which she assumed was what spawned the question. “Lunch with a friend.”
The urge to ask if it was a male or female friend confused Adam. “I guess I should have called you first, but we’re doing this set tonight at the MTV Awards… and I think there’s a pretty good chance that my road crew might purposely sabotage me in the middle of my set. Just as payback.”
“No,” Shaun stepped around the ironing board and began to approach him. “Even if they hated your guts, they’re not going to destroy their careers on national television. Not for you.”
Adam waited until she came to a stop in front of him.
It was the first time since he’d arrived that Shaun realized he’d been fiddling with something in his hands, and when her eyes fell to his fingers, she smiled.
Adam held up the two lanyards he’d been playing with. “Passes for the show.” He said.
“Ah.” Shaun nodded her understanding.
Adam put one around his neck. “One for me. And…” He held the other one out to her.
Shaun’s eyes went wide as she fingered the lanyard with uncertainty.
“One for you,” Adam finished. When Shaun didn’t take the pass from his hand, just stared at it, he added. “You’re coming with me.”
“As…Business, right?”
“Just business.”
Her throat was dry. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“Perfect. Neither do I.”
--
Shaun was already digging the heels of her Chucks into the ground trying to free her arm from Adam’s iron grasp. “No, Adam. Seriously, stop. This is way too expensive.”
Adam turned to Shaun, exasperated, his Ray Bans teetering on the tip of his nose from having to wrestle her out of the car and across the street. “Shaun, please try to relax.”
“You don’t understand, though. You see my taste in clothes is geared more towards the TJ Maxx and Ross variety. My wallet practically seals itself shut the second I run out of sales racks to look through. I can’t… I can’t do this. I wouldn’t even know how to act.”
Adam didn’t know what he had to say to help Shaun understand just how much money he actually had. He could buy every item of clothing from every store on that block and his accountant wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. It was nothing to him, and the fact that is was so clearly far from nothing to her almost made him smile.
The smirk at the edge of his mouth irritated Shaun to no end. “Don’t laugh at me.”
Adam licked his lips. “It’s just a store. I promise you’ll live. Let’s go,” he demanded, pulling her with all of his might until she had no choice but to follow him into the monstrous Prada store on Rodeo Drive.
Once inside, Shaun could feel herself shaking. She walked the isles with her arms held tight across her body, feeling like she was being watched and if she dared to touch anything every alarm in the building would sound and metal gates would drop from the ceiling to block every exit.
“What the hell am I doing here?” she mumbled to herself, afraid to even breathe on anything, let alone touch it. She glanced to the other side of the store where Adam had alre
ady tried on three different black leather jackets that all looked exactly the same. She didn’t even want to think about what the prices were on any of them.
Across the store, Adam shrugged on another jacket before flagging over a retail associate, eyeing Shaun and thinking he’d never seen a more uncomfortable looking person in his life. “You see that girl over there?” he asked the blonde associate. “The one who looks lost and a little constipated?”
The blonde associate spotted Shaun immediately, and gave Adam a knowing look.
“Please,” Adam begged, handing her his American Express Black Card. “Help her.”
The blonde took the card. “And what’s the occasion, Mr. Brand?”
Adam was examining the black leather jacket he’d just put on. “The MTV Awards. Tonight. I’ll take this jacket. I need to wear it out of the store.”
The associate immediately produced a pair of scissors from her pocket, cutting the tag off of the jacket. “I’ll ring it right up. Good choice,” she said with a wink.
Adam didn’t see it. He was still watching Shaun across the store. She was admiring a red dress but the second she looked at the price-tag she dropped it like it was on fire. “Talk her into that red dress. Make sure she looks beautiful.” He finally looked at the associate. “But make sure she’s comfortable, too.”
“Beautiful and comfortable.” The sales associate turned away from him with a roll of her eyes at the oxymoron he’d just given her, mumbling bitterly. “That sounds totally possible.”
“What was that, Miss?” Adam called.
The associate plastered a smile on her face. “Nothing, Mr. Brand. I’ll get right on that!”
“Thank you…” Adam sang, adjusting the jacket on his shoulders while watching the sales associate out of the corner of his eye.
--
An hour later, Adam held the door as Shaun exited the store with a Prada box clutched to her chest. She couldn’t remember ever loving anything as much as she loved the dress she was holding. It was truly stunning.
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