by Nina Singh
“Only because it didn’t occur to you to come on your own.”
April was smart enough to make a hasty exit as soon as they began their snarky exchange.
“Was there something you needed?” Adam asked as April shut the door behind her.
“Yes. I need to know why you’ve been avoiding me.”
She also needed to stop noticing how devilishly handsome he looked. He’d taken off the suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. The top three buttons of his shirt were undone and revealed enough of his chest that she remembered running her hands over and kissing that exact spot. She shook her head.
“I haven’t been avoiding you,” he protested.
“You didn’t even bring me the flowers you bought yourself.”
He crossed his arms in front of his chest and widened his feet, apparently ready to do battle. Well, so was she.
“You said on the plane ride that you’d rather not talk,” he said. “I guess I was supposed to know you changed your mind about that.”
“You were supposed to ask, Adam.”
“Fine. I’ll ask. Do you want to talk?”
If Ani was holding anything, she would have been tempted to throw it at him. “Yes, let’s talk,” she said, angry. “Go ahead and tell me how this thing between us will never work. That we’re too different and you have no room in your life right now for any kind of relationship.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” she pressed. “All that is pretty much what you intended to say.”
“You are,” he admitted. “That doesn’t make any of it less true.”
Why was she pursuing this? Why was she even going down this path, knowing full well it was only going to lead to further heartbreak? It was all so pointless. She didn’t have what it would take to reach him.
Still, the words continued to flow out of her mouth. Deep down, some deeply seated need within her wanted to try. “You were abandoned by your mother, then made a mistake with a woman you were in love with. A mistake that you can’t get over. And it’s making you turn your back on what could be a really good thing.” She clenched her fists by her sides. “Just because you’re scared to move forward and try for happiness.”
“Do we really want to talk about who’s scared, Ani?”
The thick, heavy tone of his voice sent alarm bells ringing in her head.
“I could go ahead and tell you what I think,” he offered.
She flung out her arms, palms up. “By all means.”
“You spent the whole time in Monaco avoiding talking to Moira. You’re on the precipice of this opportunity that most artists can only dream of. And you can’t figure out how to proceed. Why are you so afraid of making a decision and then just sticking to it?”
How could he ask her such a thing? “Not everyone is cut out to live a public life. Can you blame me for grappling with that?”
“Of course not. So accept that about yourself and say no.”
He couldn’t understand. He had no idea how it felt to lose the woman who had started her on the journey to becoming a musician. In addition to being her parent, her mother had been a source of support and nurturing and teaching. A true mentor. “It’s not as easy as you seem to think. I had to consider what my mother would say. She was my first instructor. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t even be a musician.”
“And now her absence is a convenient excuse.”
The blood drained from her face. “What?”
“An excuse to stay precisely where you are without ever having to decide.”
Ani wanted to believe she hadn’t heard him correctly. But the ringing in her ears hadn’t muddled his words. He’d been loud and clear.
She could throw it in his face how wrong he was, that she had decided in fact. And that she was figuring out how to tell Moira about her rejection of the offers.
There was no point. He saw her as a spoiled and coddled child unable to steer her own life.
“Get out, Adam.”
He cursed and reached for her, the regret clear in his dark eyes. “Ani, I didn’t mean—”
She held a hand up before he could continue, and stepped out of his reach. “Please. Just leave.”
* * *
As if he needed any more confirmation that he could be an insufferable bastard. He’d gone over and over the whole scene with Ani as he’d tossed and turned all night. He would take it back if he could.
Adam waited until the morning to try to set things right with her. He’d been completely out of line and lashed out. All because she’d spoken the truth. And he hadn’t been able to take it. For a hardened soldier who’d seen more than his share of travesty, he hadn’t been able to cope when the woman he’d cared for his entire life had held a mirror up to him and asked him to face his past.
He would tell her all that as soon as he saw her.
Hopefully, the hours of sleep had taken some of the edge off her anger. Not that he deserved any kind of leeway. He’d been way out of line. And he needed to tell her that.
No one answered when he knocked on her hotel suite door.
He walked down two doors to Moira’s room. Maybe they were having breakfast together.
But Moira was alone when she answered. Unless you counted Snowball, who ran over to him barking, then rubbed against his ankle. Adam crouched down to give him a quick pet but he rolled over onto his back and kicked his leg up in the air.
He was particularly needy this morning. Adam proceeded with an obligatory belly rub. Moira was glaring at him when he straightened.
“Where is she?” he asked. “I’m in charge of her security. I need to know.”
He could have sworn Moira sneered before answering. “She’s not here. She left.”
A heavy weight settled over his shoulders. “Left? Where to?”
“Took a commercial flight back to the States last night. Asked me to watch Snowball and bring him back with us so she wouldn’t have to crate him on the plane.”
Adam felt his gut tighten. He’d driven her away. Another strike on his already tarnished existence. “She’s not supposed to travel anywhere without Steele Security officers.”
Moira leaned over and picked up the dog, who proceeded to lick her without pause. “She didn’t. April took her.”
Was he the only one Ani had kept in the dark about her plans to leave? Adam swore out loud and called up April’s number on his phone. Moira stood watching from the doorway with both derision and unhidden interest.
April answered on the first ring. “Hey, boss. What took you so long to call?”
“Care to tell me what’s going on?”
He could practically see her characteristic shrug through the phone. “Simple. She wanted to leave. Told me you’d have a ‘tantrum’—her word—if she traveled to the airport without security, so I took her. And with all due respect, you can fire me if you want. But us girls gotta stick together.”
Adam rubbed his forehead where the beginning of a pounding headache was starting to set in. “I wished you’d told me, April.”
“She asked me not to. And I like Ani.”
Yeah, so did he. And he’d blown it with her. He knew there couldn’t be a future between them, but it was tearing him to shreds inside that she would hate him now for the foreseeable future. And she had every right to.
“So are you gonna?” April asked through the tinny speaker.
“Am I going to what?”
“Fire me?”
“No, April. I’m not going to fire you.”
Her sigh of relief was audible through the call. She thanked him profusely before hanging up.
Not that he was due any gratitude.
“She wanted to get home to work on some audition pieces. That’s what she said, anyway.” The hint of blame was clear in Moira’s vo
ice. She would be right. This was his fault. Adam could guess why Ani wanted to get home a day early: to avoid him.
Moira put the dog down midlick. He scrambled away and jumped up on the couch, whimpering as if he was missing something.
Yeah, I miss her too, pal.
The first part of Moira’s comment registered in his brain. “What audition pieces?”
“She’s looking to audition for some orchestra positions throughout the States. Maybe even in Europe. That way she can still be a performing musician but she doesn’t have to tour or deal with publicity headaches. She said she got the suggestion from someone she met in Monte Carlo at some casino you took her to.”
The theater manager she met at the bar that night. And he’d accused her of being naive for believing the man.
Adam wanted to punch a wall. He’d accused her of being afraid to move forward. The reality was that not only had she moved forward, she’d figured out a path without compromising anything of herself or squandering her great talent. She hadn’t even bothered to set him straight because he simply wasn’t worth it. Not after the unforgivable words he’d spewed at her.
“Anyway,” Moira went on, “I’m glad you’re not going to fire April.”
He could only nod. Of course he wasn’t going to fire her. The only person who deserved any kind of punishment in all this was himself. And losing Ani so completely, without any hope of winning her back, would feel like a penance for the rest of his days.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ADAM WASN’T LOOKING forward to this meeting, even less than the one he’d agreed to over two weeks ago when he’d gone to see Brant and Mr. Terrance. So much could change in a matter of days. And so much could stay exactly the same. The same receptionist was seated at the outer desk when Adam made it to the top floor. Like the last time, she motioned him in.
Brant stood up from his desk and came over to give him a big bear hug when Adam entered his office. Probably the last hug he’d receive from his oldest and closest friend. Yet another painful personal loss he would have to endure. And he had no one but himself to blame.
Adam had to accept that things would be different between them after this conversation.
Brant motioned for him to sit in the chair opposite his own.
“So Ani’s performances were both a huge success, it sounds like,” Brant began, dropping down into his own seat.
“They were. Everything went smoothly.”
“I got your message about tracing those suspicious emails,” his friend said. “Nice work figuring it out.”
Adam nodded. “Turns out they were sent to her from one of her music students. He meant no harm. Just figured she might find it flattering to have a secret admirer. The poor kid didn’t exactly think it through.”
“I guess not.”
“The counselors at the center made sure to speak with him about the inappropriateness of his actions. He feels terrible.”
Adam had sent the same message to Ani to notify her of the discovery his investigation had unearthed. She hadn’t responded.
“The kid’s got some impressive technical skills,” Adam continued. “Hacked into the youth center’s Wi-Fi to access their contact list. It’s how he obtained Ani’s updated email address.”
“Well, leave it to my sister,” Brant said. “Not only has she forgiven him, she convinced the center not to pursue any kind of charges. And she personally took the kid to sign him up for a local coding class.”
Adam wasn’t surprised in the least. That sounded like the woman he’d fallen for. The woman he’d foolishly managed to lose.
“I’m just glad it’s all over,” Brant added. “But better safe than sorry. Especially when it comes to loved ones.”
“Some things are too precious to risk,” he agreed, well aware of the irony of his words.
“So tell me about Ani’s concerts,” Brant prompted. “I was really hoping to fly to Europe to catch one, but this merger has hit one snag after another. The timing just wasn’t right. Dad and I both felt terrible about missing the chance to see her.”
“She blew both audiences away.”
Brant’s grin grew wider. “That’s my sis.”
“She’s something else.”
“She really is. And I hear you took her to spend some time at your villa in Monaco. That was above and beyond, man.”
Adam shifted in his seat. “We should probably talk about that.”
“Yeah?”
“The truth is, Ani and I became close during the Monaco visit.”
“Close?”
“Real close. I’m not sure how else to put it.”
Brant crossed his ankle over his knee. “I see.”
Adam cleared his throat. “So, just give me some warning. So that I can brace for the blow. That’s all I ask.”
Brant squinted his eyes. “What in the devil’s name are you talking about?”
“When you land the first punch. I just want to be prepared.”
“You think I’m going to punch you? Why would I want to do that?”
“Because of what I just told you. That Ani and I—”
Brant jumped up before Adam could continue. “Whoa, whoa. I don’t need to hear the details, brother.”
Adam ducked his head. This conversation was even more awkward than he’d feared.
“Just fair warning, though,” Brant said.
“What’s that?”
“I reserve the right to change my mind about that punch if it turns out you’ve taken advantage of her in any way. Buddy or not.”
Brant’s statement was no less than what he’d expected. Still, Adam felt a brush of ire rustle up his spine. “She’s been taken advantage of, all right. Probably her whole life.”
Brant stiffened where he stood. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You really don’t see it, do you? Nor does your dad, I bet. Neither of you ever have.”
“See what?” Brant demanded.
“Everything Ani’s been to you both since the loss of your mom. How strong she’s been. How she’s held you up. Both of you. You both would have fallen apart without her. You’ve been blind to all her sacrifices.”
Brant’s eyes narrowed to ominous slits. “I don’t need you to extol the virtues of my sister. I know all she’s done for us. Been to us.”
“Do you really, Brant?”
A hint of color rose on the other man’s cheeks. Someone who didn’t know him as well as Adam might not have noticed. But there was no doubt Brant was angry.
Despite that, Adam continued, “Ani happens to be strong and resilient and caring. And she deserved more from her father and brother than to have to bear the burden of trying to dull your pain, on top of struggling with her own.”
Several beats passed in the most uncomfortable silence he and Brant had ever experienced between them. And that was saying a lot.
Finally, Brant blew out a loud breath. “You’re right. My sister is one of the most generous people I know. If it wasn’t for her, my dad and I would have been even more of a mess after we lost Mom. She was the rock we both leaned on. She took care of everything. Even as young as she was and with how much she was grieving herself. It’s past time we acknowledged that. Though we’ll never be able to make it up to her.”
Adam tilted his head in agreement. “She deserves to be happy.”
“Sounds like you really care for her.”
Adam had been coming to terms with that fact since she had left Brussels without him. He’d never felt such emptiness, or been so damn lonely, as he’d been after Moira had told him Ani was gone.
The only sound conclusion was that he not only cared for Ani, he’d fallen in love with her. He couldn’t even say when. Perhaps he’d loved her since they were both kids and she insisted on trailing him and Brant until one of them told her to scram
.
Adam looked Brant straight in the eye before he answered, “I always have. And I always will.”
Brant nodded once. “Then why are you in here fighting on her behalf when you could be out there fighting for her?”
Adam leaned over, bracing his arms on his knees. “I think I may have blown it with her.”
“You have a tendency to do that, don’t you, bro?”
Just like that, the awkwardness between them dissipated like mist in the air. His friend had never been afraid to tell it like it was. It was a quality Adam both admired and dreaded being on the receiving end of.
“And if I know you,” Brant continued, “you’re probably wracking your brain for what to do about it when the answer is so very obvious.”
At Adam’s blank stare, Brant threw his arms up in the air. It was a gesture reminiscent of his sister’s. “Just go see her, man. Sounds like you both could use some clearing of the air.”
Brant was right. Regardless of where it would lead, apologizing to her face-to-face was the least Adam could do. But ultimately, it was her call to make. “I’ll try. If she agrees to give me the time of day, that is.”
“She’ll give you a chance. If you deserve it,” Brant declared.
That was the question, wasn’t it? Whether Adam deserved her at all.
He had to find out. Even if it meant he might never recover once he learned the answer. He was about to shut the door behind him when Brant’s final comment gave him pause.
“You deserve to be happy, too, Adam.”
* * *
Adam paused in the act of ringing Ani’s doorbell. The faint piano music he could hear coming through her door had him straining to hear. The piece was unfamiliar to his ears. She hadn’t performed this one in Paris nor Brussels. He would have remembered. It was stunning.
The tempo was upbeat, yet somehow a sadness resounded through the musical notes. Even without lyrics, the song spoke of desire. Of loss and pain.
Or maybe he was a fanciful clod who’d gone and lost his heart and now he was hearing poetry everywhere.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there. He just knew he couldn’t interrupt her, had to hear the melody to its conclusion.
