Adam

by Foster, Lori

  Ben winced at his blunder. Guess he should have laid a little groundwork before springing the ring on her, but he was in kind of a hurry. “Just put it on, okay?”

  “You said you were single! Single and, quote ‘loving it’ end quote. Why the hell do you have a ring with you?”

  “Relax. I am single. I swear. It’s not what you’re thinking. I just carry it around as a reminder,” he added. Leaving out the “to never be so stupid as to end up married because women are nothing but trouble,” because he liked irony better when it wasn’t happening to him.

  “What, it’s a good luck charm or something?”

  “Or something,” Ben said.

  Chloe looked skeptical. “It’s still weird,” she said, but to his infinite relief she slid the ring onto the appropriate finger, holding it up for inspection.

  He wondered what she thought of it—a modest diamond flanked by two deep purple amethysts. A simple ring. Elegant, he’d always believed, though Mel had disagreed when he’d gotten down on one knee to give it to her. She’d been more into the idea of something “newer” with a “bigger diamond.”

  “This is really pretty,” she said after a moment. “I love amethysts. They make everything look so elegant,” Chloe said, and his head snapped toward her.

  “I’m still weirded out by the fact that you keep a ring in your wallet, though,” she grumbled. “That’s creepy. I’m talking serial-killer creepy. Putting this on had better not have made me the Bride of Death or something equally messed up,” she warned. “I don’t want to find out that all the ring’s previous owners are dead and I’m next.”

  Ben smiled in spite of himself. “Well, you’re not totally off the mark. It was my grandma’s wedding ring. She left it to me when she died. Natural causes,” he assured her, and the joke defused some tension.

  He walked over to the armoire and pulled out two of his suits—the gray one from the plane and a navy one—holding them up for Chloe’s inspection. “Which of these will best erase the memory of seeing me in a towel and re-establish me as a competent professional?” he asked.

  “The navy one is extremely boring. I’d go with that,” Chloe advised, rooting through her suitcase. “I’m just going to wear jeans, a T-shirt and a black blazer, because I’m pretty sure I didn’t pack anything that says ‘sorry we met while I was dressed like a slut.’”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Ben said. “You never have to apologize to a man for that.”

  * * *

  “BEN, SO GLAD you and your lovely wife could join us.” The distinguished elderly man rose to his feet, and exchanged a swift shake with Ben before extending his hand to Chloe as well. “Chloe, thank you for coming. Please accept my apologies for our unorthodox meeting this morning. I wasn’t aware Ben was traveling with such a lovely companion. He didn’t mention he was married in our meeting.”

  “Consider it forgotten. My husband is all business on these trips. Sometimes I think he forgets I’m even along for the ride. So thank you for inviting me, Mr. Burke. This is a lovely hotel you have.”

  “Why, thank you, my dear. And please, call me Edward.”

  Chloe nodded and sat in the chair Ben held out for her. She was disgusted with herself at how easily she could still fall back into the niceties of polite society. Fiona Masterson had trained her well.

  Edward gestured to the young girl. “This is my granddaughter, Kenley.”

  The sullen teen glanced up from her phone in momentary acknowledgment, but her thumbs never stilled on the screen. She was wearing a plaid, flannel shirt unbuttoned over a My Little Pony T-shirt and thick-rimmed glasses that were probably fake, and Chloe would have bet a substantial amount there were some Doc Martens hidden under the table, if anyone were offering odds on it.

  “Kenley, what did we discuss?”

  With a put-upon sigh, Kenley set her phone facedown on the table beside her. Edward gave a “kids these days” shrug of apology before calling the waitress over to take their breakfast orders. Once that was taken care of, he and Ben got down to business.

  Chloe sipped gingerly at her coffee as she waited for her waffles to arrive.

  “This is boring.”

  Hearing Kenley speak in actual words startled her—she’d grown so used to the girl’s sighs and theatrical movement of limbs—but Chloe couldn’t argue with her assessment of reach and revenue and target markets.

  “I like your makeup.”

  Oh, man. Were they having a conversation now? “Thanks,” Chloe replied, hoping monosyllables might be her ticket out of whatever weird thing was happening on this side of the table.

  Just pick up your phone, she willed the little hipster. Gramps isn’t paying attention anymore. Ben’s wowing him with jargon. Take advantage.

  “How do you do that? That wingy eyeliner thing? It looks good.”

  Definitely a conversation. But at least now an interesting one.

  “It’s easy,” she said, earning a withering look. Teen wrath at its finest, Chloe had a moment of empathy for the girl’s parents. “A little bit of practice, and you’ll be an expert in no time.”

  “Oh.” The tiny spark of life that had been there a minute ago extinguished, and just like that, she was back to being a Mopey McMoperson.

  Well, crap. Chloe pushed her coffee aside and reached into her purse. “Here.” She pulled out her makeup bag and plopped it on the table.

  Kenley’s eyes rounded behind the irony of her fake, plastic-rimmed glasses. “Wow.”

  “Kid, you ain’t seen nothing yet,” she assured her, spilling its contents across the tablecloth.

  She smiled a bit at the awestruck look on Kenley’s face, but only because Chloe was sure that it was the same look of dazed euphoria that she herself always wore while stepping over the threshold of Sephora.

  “Give me your napkin,” Chloe ordered. After a bit of rummaging, she managed to locate a pen in her cavernous purse, and when she looked up, it was to find Kenley holding up a white square of cloth.

  Chloe shook her head. “Swanky restaurants are the worst,” she lamented, shoving her hand back into her bag and producing a couple of crumpled receipts. “We’ll just have to make do.”

  Smoothing one out the best she could, Chloe sketched a quick picture of an eye, complete with lashes and brow. Then she plucked her liquid eyeliner from the melee of makeup. “Okay, here’s what you do...”

  * * *

  BEN NOTICED CHLOE and Kenley giggling over a pile of receipts, a dozen shades of eye shadow spread across the table before them. Neither of them had made much of a dent in their breakfasts.

  “So what do you think, Mr. Masterson?”

  “Huh?” Ben turned his attention back to Burke.

  The man smiled. “You seem a little distracted.”

  Shit. “Yeah. No! Mr. Burke, I assure you that if you choose Carter and McLeod to represent Hotel Burke, we will work with laser-precision focus to promote your brand and—”

  “Please, son. I recognize the look of a man enchanted by his lady. I’m old, but I’m not dead, and I certainly don’t need you to blow smoke up my arse. I’m well aware of your agency’s reputation. You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t already impressed.”

  Impressed? Huh. After yesterday’s meeting, Ben had been sure the firm fell somewhere below root canal on Edward Burke’s list of Things That Are Awful.

  “Thank you, sir. We at Carter and McLeod work hard to exceed expectations.”

  The old man leaned in. “You’re here because it’s important to me that I know the man behind the scene. And I have to say, you surprised me today.”

  Uh-oh. Ben could feel the deal slipping away.

  “Yesterday, I’d made up my mind about you. I thought you were confident to the point of being cocky—” He held up a hand to silence Ben’s defens
e. “Which is not necessarily a bad thing,” he continued. “However, I didn’t think you were a fit for my hotel. This is, at heart, a family business. And I didn’t believe you truly understood that. Today, you changed my mind.”

  “If you’ll just— I... What?”

  Burke took a sip of his coffee. “You really impressed me today. Not only do you obviously know your stuff, but more importantly, you have your priorities in order.”

  Ben didn’t mean to glance at Chloe again. It just happened.

  “As you’ve no doubt surmised, Mr. Masterson, my showing up at your hotel room unannounced this morning was a strategic move. Anyone can be impressive with the right preparation and enough notice. It’s the hiccups in life, the moments you didn’t see coming, that tell me who I’m really dealing with.”

  Ben followed Edward Burke’s gaze to the other side of the table. Kenley looked happy and engaged, nothing like the sullen, phone-addicted girl he’s met earlier.

  And Chloe...well, her smile was really something when she had her guard down.

  “Today I got a glimpse of who you are during the hiccups. So you send the contracts over, and I’ll have my legal team take a gander at the fine print. After that, Mr. Masterson, I’d say we have a deal.”

  Ben did his best to avoid any outward manifestations of fist-pumping, victory dances and expletive-laced exclamations, but his handshake definitely had more vigor than it had at the conclusion of yesterday’s meeting.

  “Thank you, sir. You’ve made a great choice in Carson and McLeod.”

  “Only by extension, Ben. You’re the choice I made here. And I hope it’s a great one.”

  “I won’t let you down.”

  “Grandpa, I really need to use my phone, quick. Chloe has this awesome YouTube channel and I want to subscribe.” Mr. Burke nodded and the phone was a blur, Kenley grabbed it so fast.

  With a final round of goodbyes and more handshakes, Ben and Chloe wound their way through the restaurant, dodging tables as they walked toward the dining room’s grandiose entrance.

  “You look pretty pleased with yourself.”

  Ben nodded, jamming his hands in his pockets as he and Chloe stepped into the lobby. “That would be a fair assessment of my current state, yes.”

  “I take it that means the meeting went well.”

  “‘Well’ does not even begin to describe it. The meeting was great. Beyond great. It was the meeting all other meetings aspire to be. Baby meetings will grow up hearing the legendary tales of this meeting, hoping one day to be just like it.”

  She grinned at him. “Congratulations, Ben. I’m really happy for you.”

  “Thank you. I’m actually really happy for me, too. Except for the giant-wife-shaped lie I had to tell to get me to this point, everything is going according to plan. By the way, what was all that about back there?”

  “What was what about?” she asked innocently, but Ben wasn’t buying it, even with the raise he was going to get when Carson and McLeod promoted him to account director for landing Hotel Burke.

  “Don’t play coy with me. You know I’m talking about Kenley and her phone and her sudden desperate need to connect to Wi-Fi.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said as they passed the ballroom that had hosted Caroline’s wedding the night before.

  “Lies! You have a YouTube channel! I want to hear all about it.”

  “Let’s change the subject,” she countered, but there was no real heat to her words, and he was in far too good a mood to deny himself the pleasure of teasing her.

  “If I guess will you tell me?”

  “Can’t you just focus on gloating about your better-than-great meeting?”

  “Do you do acoustic covers of Neil Diamond songs on your channel?”

  Chloe rolled her eyes.

  “It’s makeup, isn’t it? I saw you teaching Kenley.”

  “Just forget it.”

  “No way. You were so smug about nailing my occupation, but I got yours, too!”

  “What? No, you didn’t.”

  “Sure. I said artist. You’re a makeup artist. That counts.”

  Chloe’s eyes widened. She looked a little...stunned?

  “Come on! I want details.”

  He could see that she wanted to tell him. She didn’t quite believe that he was really interested, but she definitely wanted to tell him.

  “It’s nothing,” she averred. “I just post stuff about—”

  “What are you two doing out here?”

  Ben turned to find Chloe’s sister, husband in tow, shooing them toward another overly decorated room.

  “You’re supposed to be inside already. Dalton and I are about to make our big entrance. You should be sitting down, eating these fab mini-quiches I picked for brunch, and waiting for us.”

  * * *

  OH, CRAP. The gift opening. She’d completely forgotten about it after she and Ben had gotten caught in flagrante by a hotel mogul and had to pretend they were—

  “Ohmygosh, Chloe! Are you engaged?”

  Double crap. She hadn’t taken off the damn ring.

  Caroline had her left hand in a death grip before Chloe had finished the thought.

  She glanced to Ben for support, but the coward was backing away, pointing toward the entrance to the gift opening and mouthing “I’ll be by the mini-quiches,” before he disappeared.

  Chloe tried to pull away, but it was no use.

  “Dalton, look. My sister’s engaged. Why didn’t you tell me, Chloe? This is so exciting! How did he ask you? When did he ask you? Ohmygosh, tell me everything!”

  “Caro—”

  “You should totally get married in the summer. This summer! Have you chosen colors yet?”

  “No, we’re not getting—”

  “Great! I have so many ideas. You and I didn’t get to plan my wedding together, but maybe we can plan yours. I mean, I’ll be in Europe for the next three months, but we can Skype. Are you going to do it here, or in Seattle?”

  Chloe tried to wedge a word into her sister’s soliloquy, wondering what had happened to the calm, poised woman she’d hung out with yesterday afternoon. Before she could open her mouth to set her sister straight, Caroline spun Chloe around by the hand. “Ohmygosh, Mom! Chloe’s engaged!”

  Time stopped.

  Chloe could barely breathe. Her mother was staring at her.

  “You’re engaged?” Fiona Masterson’s voice was little more than a whisper. Her eyes were brimming with tears. She looked at Chloe. Really looked at her. Not with sadness, or disapproval, or disappointment—but with hope.

  “Yep, we’re engaged!” Chloe stuck out her left hand as proof.

  And then the most astounding thing happened.

  Her mother hugged her. Hugged her.

  “Oh, Chloe, honey, I’m so happy for you. This is wonderful news. Just wonderful! Wait until your father hears about this!”

  “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Caroline asked.

  “We just...” Chloe grappled for something that didn’t sound completely asinine. “We just didn’t want to steal your thunder.” Caroline’s beaming smile told her she’d picked the right angle, so Chloe continued. “I mean, this is your time. Your day.”

  “Oh, goodness! Chloe’s right!” Her mom jumped back into party mode. “You two are already late. We need to get in there.”

  Chloe exhaled as her mother, her sister and Dalton disappeared into the conference room full of presents and decorations and people eating brunch.

  What the hell had she just done?

  Ben was, as promised, standing by the buffet. “These are actually really delicious,” he said around a mouthful of mini-quiche. “I had the asparagus and bacon one, and also the dill, ham and smoked-gouda kind.”
>
  “Good to know. Maybe we can have them at our wedding.”

  Ben swallowed. “Ha. Yes. Definitely.” He grabbed another one from the four-tiered serving platter with a pretty little place card advertising Caramelized Onion & Prosciutto Mini-Quiche. “And speaking of our nonexistent wedding, you got everything straightened out? Explained the truth? How’d they take it?”

  “Huh?” Chloe realized she was twisting the ring on her left finger and quickly pulled her hands apart. If by “straightened out,” he meant “let them believe what they want,” then sure. And what did it matter anyway? She was catching a plane back to her real life in a few hours. She would never see Ben again. That was the whole point, wasn’t it? The reason she’d fallen into bed with him in the first place. Why ruin their perfectly imperfect moment in time?

  Ben didn’t need to know that her family thought they were engaged. She would just call her mom once they were on opposite sides of the country again, and tell her the engagement was off, and life would get back to normal.

  But at least when it did, she could hold on to the memory of what it had felt like to have her mother’s approval.

  “Oh, wow. Chloe, seriously. You have to taste this.” Ben shoved the other half of the savory tartlet in her mouth and Chloe was grateful for the distraction.

  Saved by the mini-quiche.

  It was pretty delicious.

  * * *

  ONE HOUR AND Caroline’s entire wedding registry later, Ben and Chloe were in their room again. Her sister was an efficient gift-opener, had to give her that.

  She’d hugged Chloe tight and promised to Skype at least once a week when she returned from her honeymoon. Her dad had continued to look everywhere but at her as they said awkward goodbyes, and her mother had given her another hug instead of the usual air kisses, and even told her that she’d done a beautiful job on Caroline’s wedding makeup. Chloe was still reeling from that one.

  It was funny how things turned out sometimes. Forty-eight hours ago, she couldn’t wait to get home to Seattle, and now...now Chloe wasn’t quite in such a hurry.

  “You got everything?” Ben asked, handing her the brush she’d left in the bathroom.