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He blew out a deep breath and took them, examining the spines. “Crafting Your Image in the Corporate World? You can’t be serious. People read this?”
“It’s a fabulous book.”
“Sounds like a real page-turner.” He shook his head. “Let’s take this into the living room. I could use a drink.”
Adam led her down a far-reaching hall and into a cathedral-like great room with redwood-beamed ceilings. A sprawling sectional and leather chairs made an inviting seating area, softly lit by a dimmed wrought iron chandelier and a blazing fire. Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned the far wall, animated by raindrops pattering the panes against the backdrop of the gray evening sky.
“Your house is stunning. I can see why you’d come here to get away.”
“I love New York, but you can’t beat the quiet and the mountain air. It’s one of the only places I can take a break from work.” Adam rubbed his neck, stretching the shirt taut across his athletic chest, showing her a peek of dark chest hair her fingers had once been wonderfully tangled in. “Although apparently, work somehow managed to find me.”
Melanie forced a smile. “Don’t think of it as work. We’re fixing a problem.”
“I don’t want to insult your profession, but isn’t it tiring spending your day worrying about what other people think? Molding public opinion? I’m not sure why you bother. The media says whatever they want to. They couldn’t care less about the truth.”
“I think of it as fighting fire with fire.” She knew that Adam would be a difficult case. He hated the press, which made the persistent nature of what was now known as the Party Princess scandal much worse.
“Frankly, the whole thing seems like a colossal waste of money, and I can only assume that my father is paying you a lot of it.”
But you wouldn’t want to insult my profession. She pursed her lips. “Your father is paying me well. That should tell you how important this is to him.” As annoyed as she was by Adam’s diatribe, the retainer from his father was greater than she’d make from her other clients combined this month. Costello Public Relations was growing, but as Adam had alluded to, it was a business built on appearances. That meant a posh office space and an impeccable wardrobe, which did not come cheap.
A bark came from the far side of the kitchen, the door beyond the Sub-Zero fridge.
Adam glanced over his shoulder. “Are you okay with dogs? I put him in the mudroom, but he’d really rather be where the action is.”
“Oh, sure.” She nodded, placing her things on a side table. “What’s your dog’s name?” She already knew the answer, and that Adam’s dog was a sweet two-hundred-pound hulk—a Mastiff and Great Dane mix.
“His name is Jack. I’ll warn you. He’s intimidating, but he’ll be fine once he gets used to you. The first meeting is always the roughest.”
Jack yelped again. Adam opened the door. The dog barreled past him, skidding on the hardwood floors, taking the turn for the great room. Jack thundered toward Melanie.
“Jack! No!” Adam may have yelled at the dog, but he made no other attempt to stop him.
Jack sat back on his haunches and slid into her. Immediately, Melanie had a cold dog nose rooting around in the palm of her hand. Jack whacked his sizable tail against her thigh.
She hadn’t bargained on Adam’s dog ratting her out by revealing that they shared a past, too. “He’s friendly.”
Adam narrowed his stare. “That’s so strange. He’s never done that with anyone he’s never met. Ever.”
Melanie shrugged, averting her eyes and scratching behind Jack’s ears. “Maybe he senses that I’m a dog person.” Or maybe Jack and I hung out in your kitchen before I left your apartment in the middle of the night.
The only sound Melanie could hear were Jack’s heavy breaths as Adam stepped closer, clearly appraising her. It made her so nervous, she had to say something. “We should get started. It’ll probably take me a while to get back to my hotel.”
“I’m still not sure how you got up the mountain, but you aren’t getting back down it anytime soon.” He nodded toward the great room windows. It was raining sideways. “There have been reports of flash floods in the foothills.”
“I’m a good driver. It’ll be fine.” She really was nothing more than a skittish driver. Living in New York meant taxis and town cars. She kept her license valid only for business trips.
“No car can handle a flood. I have room for you to stay. I insist.”
Staying was the problem. Every moment she and Adam spent together was another chance for him to remember her, and then she’d have a lot of explaining to do. This might not be a great idea, but she didn’t have much choice. She wouldn’t get any work done if she was lost at sea. “That would give me one less thing to worry about. Thank you.”
