by V. H. Luis
“It’s a beautiful painting,” Sarah says from the entrance.
“Oh.” I stand, startled. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry. We have yet to be properly introduced.” She approaches and I notice she is no longer wearing heels. Her clothing has completely changed; she appears relaxed in jeans, a T-shirt, and sandals. With a smile, she extends her hand.
“I’m Sarah.”
I nod at her and we shake. “Evelyn.”
“Oh, that’s a pretty name. I bet all your friends call you Evie.”
I laugh, because it seems like the best reply.
“Are you dating my brother?” Her gaze scans me, overtly studying my actions and mannerisms. I get the impression she wants a certain answer.
“I believe you need to ask your brother that question.”
“Oh. So he’s the one who determines the answer?” She has the same infuriating arrogance that Adam exhibits.
“No.” I pause, thinking about my response, because the next few minutes will determine the type of relationship, if any, that I will have with Sarah Black. “I’m not comfortable discussing something so personal with someone I barely know. However, he’s your brother. I’m sure if you ask, he will happily supply you with an answer.” I smile at her, though it is stilted.
A small grin forms on her lips. “I think you already know that Adam will likely not divulge much information.” She walks over to the painting and inspects it.
It’s as if everything about me is being measured. I stare at Sarah with resolve. “Yet another reason why I should stay silent on the matter.”
“What is it you do?” She turns to face me.
I place my hands in my pockets, taking a cue from Adam’s handbook. That’s right, Evie, look relaxed. “I’m an art teacher.” Before she can utter her next question I interject with my own, remembering what Adam told me about his sister when we were talking at dinner. “What is it you study at Columbia?”
Her eyes widen with surprise. After a pause she responds. “To the chagrin of my parents, I’m studying Art History.”
This time my smile is genuine. “I can certainly relate; my mother was disappointed when I chose to get my degree in Art. Are you solely an art enthusiast, or do you paint as well?”
She blinks a few times and then shakes her head. “I’ve never taken an art class, though perhaps one day.” She bites her bottom lip, lost in thought. “You know, Adam usually dates women who are much different than you.”
“How exactly are they different?” I glance at her, hoping my curiosity isn’t too apparent.
She does a casual, off-the-cuff shrug that instantly reminds me of Adam. “I’m sure you can imagine. They are usually very tall, very put together.”
I take a deep breath. I refuse to let this girl push me into a corner. “I assume you are implying that I’m not tall and put together?”
She laughs outright. “I can see what he likes in you.”
I tilt my head in confusion, still wanting her to answer my question, though I doubt she will.
“Do all the women he dates get an interrogation from you?” I arch a brow at her.
“So you are dating.” She grins.
Damn it. That’s not what I meant. I open my mouth to say something, but Adam’s voice pulls my attention to the entrance.
“What are you girls talking about?” His hair is wet and slicked back. He’s showered and is wearing dark navy-blue pants and a white button-down shirt. The top two buttons of his shirt are open, revealing his tanned skin.
“Nothing important. We were just getting to know each other.” Sarah moves toward Adam and leans up to kiss his cheek.
Though I can tell he’s still irritated at her, he bends down as she kisses his cheek. I smile, because it’s wonderful to see this man who is so often restrained be affectionate with his sister.
Adam looks at me. “Are you ready to go?”
My right hand moves against my left wrist, an action I’ve adopted as habit, and I’m reminded about the bangles I’ve left in his bathroom. “Oh. I left something in your room that I need to get.” It’s awkward saying that in front of his sister, but it’s unavoidable. I need those bangles. Any moment now, Adam will grab my hand, he’ll look down and see my past, and his opinion of me will change. The thought alone makes my stomach turn sour.
“Okay, we’ll be in the living room.”
I nod as I walk past them both, toward the bedroom. Everything feels so uncomfortable now that his sister is here. Maybe he’s bored of you already. Victoria’s words haunt me. What could a man who has everything want in me?
I grab the bangles from the en suite bathroom and put them on. As I enter the bedroom I can’t help the smile that emerges. At least if it ends now, I’ll have the memory of last night.
Exiting the room, the muffled sound of conversation makes me stop dead in my tracks, not because I’m nosy, but because the voices sound angry.
“I don’t like him for you.”
“Well, you honestly have no say. Who I date is my business.”
“You’re right, though if you want to date a man who’s only interested in sleeping with you, I have to question why exactly I’m paying for an Ivy League education when you obviously lack the intelligence to benefit from it.”
I cringe at the statement.
“Are you saying that if I don’t stop dating him, you’ll stop paying for my tuition?”
“Don’t be dramatic,” Adam growls. “I’m simply making a point. You deserve better than being with a man who doesn’t care about you.”
“And do you care about the many women you sleep with?”
“What a smart defense, pointing at me and my actions, so we can disregard yours,” he says with sarcasm. “Not that you deserve an explanation, but I’ll offer it nevertheless. I have never once lied to a woman I have been with, which is more than what Markus can say.”
“I thought he was your friend.”
“Someone I knew in high school, an acquaintance, but certainly not a friend.” His voice becomes tender. “Sarah, trust me. He’s not the man for you.”
I’m appalled that I eavesdropped on their private conversation. At the same time, a jealous thought tugs at my heart. How many women has Adam Black slept with? Am I just another number? This isn’t the time or the place to be thinking about his past conquests.
Adam and his sister are probably wondering why I’m taking so long. I force a smile as I move through the hallway and into the living room.
“I’m ready.”
Adam looks at me, his face flushed with anger. He turns to his sister and then stands. “Will you be staying here?”
Sarah shakes her head. “I’m going to Mom and Dad’s. I just wanted to pop by for a visit.”
“How did you get here?”
“I took a taxi from the airport.”
Adam rubs the back of his neck with a hand, flexing his forearm. “As always, you act without thinking.” He takes out his phone and presses a button. “Parker, I need you to take my sister to my parents’ house.” A few seconds later, he snaps the phone shut. “Parker will be here in twenty minutes.”
Adam walks past me to the foyer. He doesn’t utter a word, though I get the impression I should follow.
I smile at Sarah, because it’s obvious she could use some compassion.
“Evie, it was a pleasure meeting you. I hope we’ll have the opportunity to see each other soon.” She sounds heartfelt.
I’m surprised that she uses my nickname, though I don’t mind the gesture. “I would love that.” I turn and follow Adam.
When the elevator arrives we travel down in silence. Why did this have to happen? Yesterday was perfect. The way he stared at me and the words he spoke gave me hope that whatever was happening between us was more than a fling. I’m broken at the thought that this is how our time together will end. The elevator doors open and I’m about to resign myself to my pathetic fate when his hand wraps around mine. I love the way he h
olds my hand, the grip firm and steady.
He leads me to his black Mercedes and opens the door without uttering a word. It’s a sweet action, but the silence between us is like an insurmountable wall.
Shifting the car into gear, he pulls out of the parking garage.
I can no longer take the deafening quiet. “Please say something.”
Adam frowns, though the action is more in confusion than anger. “What exactly would you have me say?” His tone is bland and uninterested.
I tap my chin in thought; an action that makes him smile ever so slightly. “Tell me something about you I don’t know.”
He arches his brow quizzically. “I don’t like broad questions; they’re a waste of time. I would rather answer a defined question.”
I laugh, because in the short time I have spent with Adam Black, that’s the one facet of his personality I understand. He’s practical to a fault, and expects everyone to do what he wants. The mere idea of going against him makes me shiver.
My thoughts are cut short by his voice. “I’m beginning to get the impression, Miss Snowe, that you enjoy laughing at me. You do it often.”
I shake my head at him and feign an earnest expression. “I would never laugh at you, Mr. Black.”
He grins, his eyes still on the road. “Oh. Before I forget, I have something to give you.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small envelope. It’s addressed to me.
“What is it?” I’m apprehensive and I suspect it has everything to do with being far past my comfort zone, thrown into a world both alien and addicting. He’s addicting.
“Open it and you’ll find out.” His expression is expectant and the smile he wears makes a shiver cascade down my body. Does this man have any idea what he can do to me just with a look?
I run my finger underneath the seal and peer inside. It’s a check, addressed to me, for twenty-five thousand dollars. My jaw drops. I’m speechless, unable to formulate a coherent thought, and then like an open flood gate the blood rushes my head.
“Why would you give me this?” I sound angry and in that instance I realize I am.
“I told you that you would be well compensated for the mural.”
He sounds incredibly logical and it drives me crazy, because this is anything but logical. “I don’t want it.”
“That’s unfortunate, especially considering you have no say in the matter.” He speaks without even looking at me, his dark eyes glowering at the road.
“No say? You don’t decide what I can and cannot accept.” I drop the envelope on his lap as he drives.
We pull up to my house and he parks. “I said you would be well compensated for the painting and in doing so I gave you my word. This is not up for debate.”
“I didn’t go to your house because I had the desire to paint you something. Thinking back, the only reason I did go was because I wanted the opportunity to know you better, because you intrigued me.”
He grabs the envelope and holds it up. “Evelyn—”
I interject. “Could you not accept the painting as a gift?” Good girl, being tactical might work.
Adam’s body tenses. “It was never supposed to be a gift.”
“I believe several things happened that weren’t supposed to,” I say in an agitated whisper.
“What exactly is this about?”
He sounds annoyed, and his direct way of phrasing questions makes me squirm in my seat. “It’s about you flaunting your money and making me uncomfortable.”
“Flaunting?” he snarls. “I hardly think paying someone for a service can classify as flaunting my wealth.”
“That’s just it. I don’t want to be paid for a service,” I say with fervent passion, because I’m not fixating on the hours I spent painting, but the hours I spent entangled in his arms, between his ultra-high thread count sheets.
Adam blinks a few times in surprise. “I’m paying you for the painting, not the night.”
I blush and slump farther into my seat. He’s said exactly what I was thinking. I don’t want to be paid for the painting because it makes me feel cheap and opportunistic. “I don’t want it.” I say with conviction, though the original vehemence I harbored has been extinguished.
He leans forward and I still. “I believe I already told you to get over this, Evelyn. Stop doubting what happened.” Adam appears exasperated, though he is keeping his feelings under control, for my benefit.
This man can be so sweet and considerate. I don’t think he realizes those traits in himself. He’s obviously not a patient man and yet with me he makes an effort. I know it’s dangerous to think myself special, but around him I do feel special, and it’s not something I can or even want to control.
Flooded by feelings too intense to articulate, I kiss him. Though I’ve taken him by surprise he smoothly adjusts, his mouth parting so that he can suck on my upper lip before thrusting his tongue and brushing it with mine. Then his arms are circling my waist, pulling me against him and the narrow confines of his car become an obstacle we easily overcome. Now perched on his lap, I bite at his lips, wanting everything he can give, the gentle tugs, the powerful pulls, and the pure perfection I’ve only ever experienced in his arms. Adam groans against me, his grip tightening on my skin.
“If you keep this up I’m going to fuck you in this car.” His sexy rasp is laced with desire.
“I wouldn’t mind.”
He grins, pulling back with regret. “As tempting as the offer is, I’m late for an important meeting.”
I run my fingers behind his ear, brushing his hair back and he leans into the touch. “I don’t want the money. Please.”
His face hardens. “If you won’t accept the payment, then you’ll have to accept a gift.”
He’s so damn stubborn. But I know this is his way of compromising, something I imagine he rarely does.
“What type of gift?”
He shakes his head. “One of my choosing, that you will be unable to deny.”
“I don’t like the terms of this compromise,” I say dryly.
Adam grabs my chin and his eyes command my full attention.
“I honestly couldn’t care less if you like the terms. Agree to them or you’re taking the check.”
I’m not going to win this argument.
As I lean my body back against the driver’s side window I resign myself to the fact that Black currently has all the power in this relationship. But is this actually a relationship? I brush off the thought.
“You win. Fine. I’ll accept a gift of your choosing, no questions asked.”
“That’s more like it,” he says with a half-smile.
“I better let you go,” I murmur.
I open the driver’s side door and in an unladylike scramble, step out. I’m missing my purse, so I use the opportunity to rub against him. I lean my body across his, reaching for the purse in the passenger seat. He smirks, his eyes silently saying I know what you’re doing.
“Sorry, had to get my purse.”
I bat my eyes at him, and then my vision blurs because his strong grip pulls me toward him. He spins me so my legs are still out of the car but my upper body is resting on him, his arms cradling me. His kiss knocks the wind out of me. It leaves me panting and craving more. When he pulls away, my knees buckle as I stand.
Don’t you dare fall, Evelyn. That would be beyond embarrassing. I lick my lips and blink a few times, trying to remember how to walk.
“I’ll call you later.” His eyes narrow with amusement, no doubt at the dumbstruck expression on my face.
“Bye, Adam.” Walking to the porch, I hear the revving of his car and feel panic, because he’s leaving, and even though I want to believe him, I’m not certain he will call.
He drives off and I shelve my insecurities long enough to open the front door. Tina’s in the living room wearing a guarded expression. She must be pissed because I didn’t respond to her texts and calls. I open my mouth to cut her off before she starts bitching at me, and that
’s when I see her.
My mother is standing by the kitchen her face flushed and her petite nostrils flared—she’s livid.
“Where the hell have you been?” She shoots me a reproachful glare.
I have the smarts to realize telling her I’ve been spreading my legs for a handsome, charismatic man won’t go over well. I gulp as I stare at my mother. What am I going to tell her?
Chapter Eleven
“MOM, WHAT A pleasant surprise, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Quit with the games. I want answers and I want them now. Where have you been?”
The nerve of this woman is astounding. I understand she’s my mother and she cares about me, but I am twenty-four years old. I’m not some teenager who’s missed her curfew.
“I spent the night with a man I’m seeing.” The thrill of adrenaline racing through my veins makes me want to laugh out loud though I have the foresight to resist the urge.
My mother is stunned into silence for a long minute and Tina herself looks shocked. I inwardly celebrate surprising them.
“I didn’t even know you were dating someone.”
“We only recently started seeing each other.” I want to act casual, as if the notion of me seeing a man is common, but it’s not, and everyone in the room knows it.
“And you’re already sleeping with him?” she snaps.
I cross the room quick, tossing my purse on the dining room table ignoring her question, because my patience is nonexistent. Last night, drama and all, was the best night I’ve had in ages. The last thing I want is my mother to ruin the high I’m coasting on.
Tina interjects. “I believe she’s been working on a mural for him. You know how she gets. She probably spent the night painting.”
Oh, great. More lies.