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Whatever was very personal was also clearly a sore spot. Maybe she didn’t like talking about work after hours. It wasn’t his intention to draw her into an unwelcome conversation, especially now that they finally had the chance to go out together, but he had to know.
“I’m listening. Tell me everything.”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
He fought disappointment that she still didn’t trust him enough to simply come out with it, but he had to keep trying. “Please don’t be afraid to confide in me. I’m only trying to help. No judgments. Just help.”
She looked him in the eye, searching, for what he did not know. He took the opportunity to reciprocate, scanning her lovely features, his heart heavy that she was obviously suffering over whatever had happened.
Finally, she sighed and dropped her shoulders. “My business partner was also my boyfriend. I thought he was about to become my fiancé, but I was clueless. He had an affair with one of our clients, while he and I were living together and talking about marriage and children.” Her voice wobbled, but her resolve was still evident. “He left with her. For San Francisco. They went into real estate together. And unfortunately, I trusted him and it’s only my name on the lease, or anything for that matter. Costello PR is all mine. Sink or swim.”
Anger bubbled under Adam’s skin. He hadn’t been in many fistfights in his life, but he wouldn’t hesitate to flatten Melanie’s ex, to make him feel a fragment of the pain he’d caused her. “I’m so sorry. Talk about a double whammy.”
He was about to reach across the table and take her hand, but she pulled it back, picking up her drink and downing the last of it.
“A triple even,” she muttered when she came up for air.
“An affair. With a client...” And there it was. Aside from the contract with his father and her extreme attachment to doing things her way, there was another reason to keep him at arm’s length.
“Yes, Adam. An affair. With a client. It looks a little different from the outside, doesn’t it? Some people would call it unseemly.”
Adam wanted to protest, to say that it wasn’t the same because this excuse for a man, her ex, was a coward. And he had to be certifiable. Why would anyone leave her? “The way he went about it, it does. It wouldn’t have to be like that. If two people were attracted to each other, they could wait until the working relationship had come to a close and then proceed with romantic intentions.”
“But both people would have to be unattached, completely, for real.” Something wouldn’t allow her to say that she meant Julia. “And both people would have to be capable of commitment. Because I don’t do casual. It’s not in my DNA.”
Did this mean she was interested? And could he do commitment? Could he start out a relationship that way? Usually he eased into that mode, knowing he’d likely never get there, but Melanie deserved far more. “Are you giving me a checklist?”
“Even if I did, it still wouldn’t account for my checklist, and trust me, mine is a mile long.”
Adam’s phone beeped with a text. Dammit. Just when he was learning the landscape of the epic battle to win over Melanie. “I’m sorry. I should’ve put it on vibrate.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
Adam cringed as he read the message from Julia.
I need you at a dinner Saturday. Director in town.
It turned out that the fake relationship benefited Julia more than they’d originally thought it might. She’d landed a gritty role as a mouthy Long Island mob wife, a part her agent said she wouldn’t have been considered for before she got serious with a man immersed in controversy. Julia was convinced this was her chance at industry awards.
The text was an unwelcome reminder of what was waiting for him outside Flaherty’s—obligations that revolved around other people’s needs, all of it keeping him from Melanie, and just when he’d convinced her to open up. She knew so much about him, even the bad things. He didn’t know much beyond Little Miss Buttermilk and now, her bastard of an ex.
“Crisis in the office?” she asked.
Adam clicked off his phone and shoved it into his pocket. “Just something that will have to wait.” He smiled, relishing his return to conversation with Melanie. “Where were we?”
“Nowhere. I’d like a change of subject.” She looked over her shoulder. “Or a turn with the jukebox.” She whipped back and dug through her purse. “Shoot. I don’t have any change.”
“The machine takes quarters. I’ll get some from Jones.”
