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“No, because one, I don’t have any exes,” Adam replied swiftly, which was actually fair because he didn’t do relationships and never officially dated anyone. “And two, you’re having way too much fun with the Kenzie story, so it’s being officially retired as of right now,” he said, to which I snorted, because I knew what he was referring to.
The Dungeon.
It was a place for off-limit topics. Things we’d inevitably discovered about each other after having worked so closely for so many years.
Once they were dungeoned, we were strictly not allowed to bring them up ever again, because one, they genuinely embarrassed the crap out of us, and two, there had to be rules when two people knew this much about each other. Without them, our heated debates—of which we had many—would get entirely too dicey. There were too many cheap shots and low blows we could resort to. It would be the Wild Wild West.
Hence The Dungeon.
It covered topics that ranged from the serious to the not-so-serious, like the time Adam gave a sincere “gracias” after asking a stranger for directions—in Tokyo—and the time he accidentally went on the world’s worst date with Kenzie three years ago.
Long story short, he’d invited her to a friend’s party after mistaking her late-night “hey u” as a text from a different Kenzie—whose name was actually Katie.
At said party, Adam was crestfallen to find the wrong hot girl not only waiting for him but convinced they were on a date. All night, Kenzie wound up following him like a puppy, fiercely cock-blocking him at every turn and eventually getting so high on edibles that Adam had to take her to the ER and spend three hours convincing her that she was not in fact dying.
I found out about the story when I picked him up from the hospital that night, and admittedly, I still found it hard not to laugh when Kenzie spoke with misty eyes about the night Adam “saved her life.”
“Alright, fine, dungeoned,” I relented, accepting the submission of the new topic, because I did have way too much fun at his expense with the story. “That said, you should probably stop doing anything to lead the girl on. Unless of course you plan on sleeping with her at some point.”
“Yeah, not happening,” Adam said.
“Why? Because she’s the boss’s daughter?”
“No, because I’d never be able to get past the extreme baby voice. It would be like fucking a Cabbage Patch doll.”
“That entire sentence just gave me hives, but you’re probably right. Which is why you should just nip it in the bud before she falls any deeper in love with you.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be fine.”
“Mm. Famous last words,” I lilted, earning myself a grouchy look from Adam, but he said nothing in reply, because he knew my record with him.
From bets about which of us would fare better at SoulCycle to whether or not there was something going on between his sister Holland and his best friend Iain last summer (spoiler alert: there was), I was undefeated in just this past year alone. I knew it, he knew it, and he hated acknowledging it, which was why he generally just changed the subject.
“Moving on,” Adam said. “What’s the rundown?”
With a dutiful nod, I opened up my planner, going swiftly into the rundown of the day’s schedule, which started with our noon flight to Palm Beach, which got us in before six and allowed us an hour to go over the notes for tomorrow’s big meeting before I was dismissed to get ready to surprise Caspar.
“At which point, you’ll be an hour away from having dinner at The Palm Grill. Confirmed the res with Mario last night and made sure you had your usual table and your usual wine,” I said.
“Perfect. What else?”
“Confirmed with Knox’s team that we’re on for noon tomorrow, and just to pack a little more punch to our presentation, I’ve scheduled three of your current clients to be available for a conference call during the meeting—just so Knox can hear from other like-minded players who’ve had contract success as your client,” I said, peering up to catch Adam’s eyebrows lift with approval. “And last but not least, I know you only asked for a list, but here’s a full breakdown of every endorsement deal you’ve negotiated for your clients over the past two years.”
With a big, winning smile, I leaned over his desk to present him the report, watching his eyebrows ascend even more as he flipped through its concise but detailed pages.
“Damn. Good work,” Adam said, openly impressed. Still, he knew better than to assume that I’d do extra credit just to be nice so leaning back in his leather chair, he hit me with a look. “What do you want?”
“To pack my extra stuff in your suitcase.”
“Your extra Caspar stuff?” He made a face. “Are you sure you need all that shit?”
“Are you sure that’s any of your business?” I countered.
“Just seems you’re going a bit overboard with this whole thing.”
“Yeah, well, you would too if you ever, you know, loved somebody.”
Adam uncapped a pen with his teeth. “I love being single more than anything in this world, so hard pass on that,” he said, circling something in my report. “That said, this is pretty exceptional work, so I’ll go ahead and let you pack all your dumb shit in my suitcase,” he said, making my eyes light up for all of a second before adding, “As long as you show me what’s inside first.”
