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Adam smiled as if they were playing a game. “Okay. I went out, I ran into Portia. We’d met a few months ago at a party. We had a few too many drinks.”
“Don’t say how much you had to drink. It casts you in an unflattering light.”
“Why? It’s a free country.”
“Never, ever say that it’s a free country. It’s an excuse to do whatever you want, without regard for the consequences.” She ignored the scowl on his face. “Now try again. Tell me about that night in February.”
There was deep confusion in Adam’s expression. Hopefully that meant he was realizing what a narrow tightrope he had to walk to get past a scandal. “That question is so open-ended, and I already told you the truth. Now I don’t even know where to start.”
“These journalists are skilled in the art of tripping someone up. They want you to say something embarrassing or break down. They want something juicy. It’s your job to control the conversation. Make the scandal exactly what you claim it to be.”
“Which is?”
“You tell me.” She flipped her pen in her hand, watching him. The gears were turning behind his dappled blue eyes. For someone with an IQ that was reportedly off the charts, this was clearly a puzzle to him.
“I didn’t go to the club with her. I just ran into her.”
“That makes it sound like you were there to pick up women. Focus on the benign or the positive. Nothing that can be construed as negative.”
He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “I’d been working like crazy on a new project and I wanted to blow off some steam.”
“I’m sorry, but that won’t work either. The work stuff is good, but blowing off steam makes you sound like a man who uses alcohol to have fun.”
“Well, of course I do. What’s the point, otherwise?” He sank back against the cushions. “You know, I don’t think I can do this. My brain doesn’t work like this. People ask me a question, I answer it and move on.”
“I know this is difficult, but you’ll get it. I promise. It’s just going to take some honing of your answers.”
“Why don’t you show me what you mean? If I don’t defer to you on this, we’ll be sitting here for days.”
“Okay. First off, you establish your relationship with Ms. Winfield. Maybe something like, ‘I’ve known Portia Winfield for a few months and we’re friends. She’s a delightful woman, a great conversationalist.’”
He cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “You do know she’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, right?”
“All I said is that she’s amusing and can talk a lot.”
A flicker of appreciation crossed his face. “Go on.”
Melanie deliberated over what to say next, not enjoying the idea of Adam with another woman. Feeling that way was irrational. She had no claim on him, and Adam’s reputation suggested that he could have any woman he wanted. Just last year he had a brief romance with actress Julia Keys, right after she’d been deemed the most beautiful woman in the world. Melanie remembered well standing in line at the drugstore, seeing Julia’s perfect face on the cover of that magazine, a distinct sense of envy cropping up, knowing that Julia was dating the man Melanie could have for only one night.
“You could say that you two enjoyed a drink together,” Melanie said, collecting her thoughts.
“It was more like three and she was well on her way when I got there.”
“But it’s true that at some point in the evening you enjoyed one drink, right?”
“Sure.”
“There you go.”
He grinned. “Please. Keep going.”
“Here’s where I get stuck, because I can’t figure out exactly how you two ended up kissing, while the back of her dress was stuck in the waistband of her panties, the famous disappearing panties.”
Adam sighed and shook his head in dismay. “Do you have any idea how idiotic this whole story is?”
“You’re going to have to paint me a picture, because I really don’t.”
Adam folded his arms across his chest. “I kissed her, and it was more than a peck on the mouth. That much is true. But I quickly realized how drunk she was. I wasn’t about to let it go any further. I had no idea she was mooning half of the bar. She’d just come back from the ladies’ room. And I definitely didn’t know that anyone was taking pictures with a camera phone.”
As the woman who had more than once tucked her skirt into her pantyhose by accident, Melanie knew this was a plausible explanation. “Then what?” Curiosity overtook her, even when the story was making her a bit queasy.
