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CHAPTER
15
After a round of emails and phone calls with clients—and many ignored messages from contacts wanting a statement—Monica’s follow-up article dropped, exposing the bribe. Lucy lingered online long enough to watch it blaze across social media and news outlets, leaving an angry streak of demands for justice. She didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to watch the rage surge and recede as everyone with an opinion weighed in.
There goes reasonable doubt.
It’s fake.
Why didn’t she bring this up before?
Can she be arrested for withholding evidence?
Though expected, the comments were tiring. Instead of reading them, Lucy took Joanna’s offer to take the rest of the day off.
With work as under control as it could be and her promotion pending the board meeting, she needed to get on to another arena: her love life. It had managed to completely combust and spark anew in the span of six hours—twenty, if she counted the time since she met Adam the night before.
She grabbed her bag and slipped out of the office. The short commute to Adam’s bar was the precise reason she had gone there for drinks the night before. If Caleb had shown up, who knew what would have happened.
Actually, she did know. She would have lived out the exact night she anticipated, right down to listening to Caleb grind his teeth as they fell asleep, and remained resolutely yet ignorantly unhappy. But Caleb hadn’t shown up, which led her to the drink and the wish and to Adam. And that, well, that felt a little bit like fate.
By some miracle, she found parking on the street in front of his bar. She took it as a sign she was following the right path and not about to do something she’d regret. She also took a moment to think about how much had changed since she entered the bar the night before. How Adam had made such an obvious observation that took her a day of cosmic intervention to recognize for herself. She was the same person but saw life—and herself—through open eyes now.
It occurred to her that Adam had seen the truth from the moment they met. He had even seen her without makeup, in weekend clothes, and in a fit of inexplicable and highly illogical-sounding distress. And yet.
He still smiled at her when she walked into the bar.
“Hey. Here for another birthday cocktail?” He flipped his rag over his shoulder, his eyes sparkled, his dimple popped; the whole works. Lucy couldn’t have hidden her swoon if she tried.
“Not exactly.” She glanced around at happy hour in full swing: people in suits and skirts who escaped the office early, tourists from the beach, locals wearing athleisure like badges of honor from an afternoon workout. The atmosphere was light and airy, fun, but she wanted privacy. “Can I talk to you?”
He took the hint and turned toward the end of the bar. “Sure. Give me a minute.”
She stood by as he said something to the other bartender, an attractive woman with a sleeve tattoo and enormous hoop earrings. As Lucy wondered if they had some kind of history, she realized she knew nothing about Adam’s relationship status. She was only guessing he was single based on how disappointed he had been when she told him she had a boyfriend earlier, how he had jumped on the opportunity to give her a ride when she needed one, and the whole kissing thing.
Her lips tingled at the memory, and she hoped her plan wasn’t about to destroy any opportunity of getting to kiss him again.
He nodded toward the far end of the bar. It wasn’t as private as she hoped for, but she had just shown up during happy hour rush and demanded his attention. She would take what she could get.
First order of business, she needed to know: “Do you have a girlfriend?”
His brows bounced in surprise. “Uh, not what I was expecting”—he chuckled—“but no, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
She eyed the woman with the sleeve tattoo and mulled his answer. She needed to cover all bases. “Wife? Fiancée? Boyfriend? Husband?”
Adam laughed like he found her amusing. “None of the above. Is this what you came here to talk about? My relationship status?”
“No!” Her face warmed. The honesty train she’d been riding all day charged ahead, and for the first time, she felt like she was being dragged behind it. Maybe it was his eyes, or his smile, or the way he leaned on the bar with a casual and open comfort, like he wanted to hear whatever she had to say, no matter how wild it was. She took a breath. “I mean, yes. Well, kind of. Depending.”
He propped himself on his hands and leaned toward her. She hadn’t minded the jogging outfit one bit—in fact, it may have been her favorite thing she’d seen him wearing, but the button-down with rolled sleeves he’d swapped it for was only working in his favor. “Depending on what?”
His gaze unnerved her, and she realized it was because she wanted a certain outcome very much, and she wasn’t sure if her honest tongue was going to get her there. “Depending on how this conversation goes.”
She saw a spark in his eye and hoped that he too wanted a certain outcome.
“Well, you’ve certainly got me intrigued, birthday girl Lucy Green. I am ready to talk.”
“Good. But, um, well, I guess I need you to listen first.” She had one hand on the train now, still running to keep up, but moving forward.
