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Julia sat up tall and smiled, an almost wistful look on her face. “I spent some time thinking about it today. I’m thinking that you called me when you heard that I was moving back to New York. Your life was in a shambles, of course. I mean, you’d really hit a low point.”
Adam blinked, disbelieving what she said, even when it was the truth. “Uh, yeah. I get it.” He shifted in his seat.
“We talked for hours on the phone that night and I agreed, hesitantly, to let you come by my apartment when I got into the city.”
“Why hesitantly?”
“Adam, be serious. Of course I’d seen those horrible photos. They were all over the internet. What woman wouldn’t be at least a little leery of you?”
His stomach soured. That could be one of Melanie’s doubts, too. She’d seen the worst side of him and been hired to show only the good. “I suppose you’re right.”
“You brought me flowers, white roses, I’m thinking, as a sign of good intentions.”
“I thought white roses were for apologies.”
“Well, you did break up with me.”
“I thought we mutually decided to break up. And no one is going to believe that I broke up with you. That’s absurd.” He shook his head. Talk about absurd, this entire conversation was absurd.
“Okay, fine. Red roses. For passion.” Julia winked at him flirtatiously.
Adam didn’t say a thing. He just took a gulp of his bourbon.
“Sparks flew the minute we saw each other,” Julia continued. “We knew that we had to get back together.”
Adam leaned forward. “What do we say in a month when we end up breaking up?”
“Oh, the usual.” Julia took a ladylike sip of her wine. “Two people devoted to their careers couldn’t find a way to make enough time for each other. That’s believable, right?”
A slow and steady sigh escaped Adam’s lips. “More than you know, honey. More than you know.”
Eight
The tabloid photos of Adam and Julia outside the restaurant on their first “fake” date were one thing—painful to look at, but tolerable. The shots of them having coffee a few days later were another thing—an odd ache cropped up in Melanie’s chest, but she told herself it was heartburn.
There was hand-holding in the pictures. There were smiles. There were what might be construed as romantic glances. It was enough to make a girl give up all hope, which Melanie had already nearly done, all in the name of saving her business. But today, he was staring at Julia’s butt. How much of this would she be able to take?
Fidgeting in her seat in the waiting room at Adam’s office, she flipped open the newspaper, forcing herself to look at the photos of Julia and Adam running in Central Park with Jack. They looked so right together—smiling and running. It made her entire body hurt. After all, who smiles on a run? People ridiculously in love, that’s who.
Adam and Julia were a perfect match on paper, as beautiful as could be. Adam, in particular, looked drop-dead gorgeous. Every woman in the city was probably gawking at these pictures. His gray Knicks T-shirt was stretched across his chest and stomach, taut enough that she could make out the subtle ripples of his abs. Oh, the kisses she’d bestowed on that magnificent stomach of his. The sensation of her lips on his skin still lingered. And now those abs were as off-limits as an entire cheesecake on a diet.
Hands down, the picture of the post-run stretch was the most painful. Julia, donning skin-tight black leggings and a similarly fitting tank top, was bending over, touching her toes. Adam, being a man, or at least Melanie was sure that would be his excuse, was ogling her butt. Julia had apparently received a free pass on gravity. I could do five million squats and my behind would never look that good.
Part of her wanted to take Adam to task over the photo since he was displaying the sort of behavior that had tripped him up in the first place, but the papers thought it was sexy, giving it the headline For His Eyes Only.
This was no way to start her day, not when she was about to spend the next two hours with Adam. Any minute now she’d be called into his office to help direct an online press conference, where he was set to speak with a dozen major business publications from around the globe via webcam. Today wasn’t about the scandal. It was about putting the spotlight on Adam’s business prowess, all to impress the LangTel board of directors.
She glanced at her watch. Adam was already five minutes behind on the schedule she’d given him. Luckily, she’d anticipated this and had given him the wrong time on purpose, just so that he wouldn’t mess up.
