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Adam’s phone beeped with a text message and he pulled it from his sweatshirt pocket. He smiled warmly at the screen. “My dad, congratulating me for the Midnight Hour.”
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open.
“You were amazing,” she said, stepping into the lobby as Adam held the elevator door. “I’m sure you’ll get a lot of that today.”
His phone beeped again. This time he didn’t smile when he read the message. Instead, all blood drained from his face. “Hey, Carl,” he yelled, panicked, across the lobby to the doorman. “Get Ms. Costello in a cab, right now.”
“What’s wrong?” She struggled to read his expression, her voice just as frantic as his when she had no idea what was going on.
“You have to go,” Adam blurted, lurching for the elevator button. “My dad’s on his way.” The door slid closed.
Oh my God. No. The doorman rushed Melanie outside, but it was too late. She nearly ran straight into Roger Langford.
“Ms. Costello,” Roger said. “Are you?” He peered through the glass door into the lobby of Adam’s building. “Were you meeting with Adam?”
Melanie had never been so mortified in her entire life. “Uh, yes. Yes, sir.” It felt awful to say it. “There was such a great response to Adam’s interview last night. Just want to make the most of it. Make sure all of the media outlets are talking about it. Adam and I were just going over a few things.” Stop talking. Stop digging yourself a hole.
“That’s what I like about you, Ms. Costello. Always thinking, always working hard, never letting an opportunity pass you by.”
Now she felt one million times worse. “Thank you, sir.”
The doorman finally managed to flag a cab, signaling her with a wave.
Melanie was desperate to make her escape. “I should go, sir. I need to get into the office.” Technically not a lie, but getting through life on technicalities was no way to go.
“Sure, sure.” Roger nodded. “Have a good day.”
* * *
Adam paced in his kitchen. Had Melanie made it into a cab before his dad arrived? He had his answer as soon as his father stepped off the elevator into the apartment.
“I ran into Ms. Costello downstairs.” His dad slowly unbuttoned his coat.
“Ah, yes,” Adam replied, not wanting to offer any detail in case his story didn’t match up with Melanie’s. “Dad, please. Have a seat.” He pulled out a bar stool just as he received a text. He glanced at his phone long enough to read Melanie’s message.
We can’t do this. It’s not right.
He answered. Don’t freak out.
“Hard worker, Ms. Costello.” His dad slowly eased onto the high seat, his height making this a good spot for him to sit. “I only came by for a minute, Adam. I just wanted to tell you in person how happy I was with your appearance last night. I received several favorable phone calls from board members this morning. They were very impressed. I was very impressed. You were perfect.”
Every word of praise from his father made Adam more conflicted. Now he understood firsthand exactly why Melanie was so uneasy. What if he told his father then and there that he and Melanie were involved? What would he say? Would he be disappointed? Accuse him of going back to his old ways?
The answer didn’t matter. Melanie would be furious. If he stood any chance of keeping her, he couldn’t jeopardize everything she’d worked so hard for.
If it was Adam’s call and his professional butt was on the line, he might be tempted to throw caution to the wind, risk every personal achievement and dollar in the bank to have the opportunity to be with Melanie like that, every night. It wasn’t merely as good as he remembered. It was so much better.
By the time his dad was gone and Adam could reply to Melanie’s text with something of substance, he wondered if he’d managed to calm her with his last message. He took care to be reassuring in case he hadn’t.
Take a deep breath. Everything is fine. I’m coming to your office.
Her response was too quick for his liking.
Please don’t. It will just make things worse.
He fired off a text to his assistant to move his morning meetings. He then turned his phone facedown on the kitchen counter. He wasn’t about to get into an extended back-and-forth with Melanie via text message, like a couple of love-struck teenagers. He had to see her. Once he had her in his arms, everything would be fine.
He showered quickly and once downstairs, instructed his driver to get to Melanie’s office as fast as possible. Every red light they sat at was torture. Adam’s phone kept ringing, but he couldn’t concentrate on work and finally had to silence it. Business would have to wait. Nothing was more important than seeing Melanie.
