by Roz Fayrer
Step behind the hotel room doors of The Chatsfield, London…
Each year on this very night, international media mogul Adam Brightman puts away his playboy façade and drowns his painful past in whiskey. Except this year one woman is determined not to let him escape his demons.
The only way Adam - and she - can move on is to discuss the one thing that they’ve never spoken of. But opening Pandora’s box has consequences, and the question remains… will it consume them both or finally set them free?
The Real Adam Brightman
Roz Fayrer
To a small group of women who helped my find my voice in Italy.
And to the women in my life who have shaped me into the person I am today. You know who you are.
Contents
Cover
Blurb
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
About the Author
Discover The Chatsfield
Copyright
Chapter One
Adam Brightman settled back into the soft leather seat of The Chatsfield’s exclusive bar and tried to drown out the sounds of the other customers with a mouthful of whiskey. He shouldn’t have come here. God knows, he should have found another bar in another part of London. But his feet had a mind of their own. Daniel Northman, manager of the bar, kept flicking glances his way, but Adam was looking at a different face, from a different time. He always was on this day, each year, for the last ten years.
A woman’s laughter peeled out from another dark corner of the opulent bar, but it sounded off to Adam’s ears, slightly forced and a little too high. He felt Daniel’s gaze on him once again. He’d offered Daniel two hundred pounds to ensure that Adam found the oblivion he was seeking tonight, but Daniel simply pushed back the notes on the bar, and slid over a glass of whiskey. On the house. Jesus, he must have looked bad. The words that Daniel had uttered slid into his mind.
That kind of pain doesn’t need a bill added to it.
He caught his reflection in the mirrored surface of the back of the bar, and cringed at the anguish he was sure shone from every pore on his face. He gritted his teeth and took another swig of whiskey, relishing the burn as the alcohol hit the back of his throat and tried, but failed, to warm the hollow in his chest. There would be no warmth. Not tonight.
The woman’s laugh came again and grated over his skin. He hunched forward in his seat, leaning over his glass. He couldn’t get comfortable. Usually the bar at The Chatsfield was everything he sought. Excitement, fun and an evening of beautiful women. But what he was looking for tonight couldn’t be soothed by luxurious leather and the wicked cocktails cooked up by Northman.
His gaze roamed over the clientele of the bar and snagged on Ally sitting with some suit. A small measure of surprise cut through him, he didn’t think that The Chatsfield would usually let an employee enjoy the hotel bar, let alone a chambermaid. But she seemed to have an ‘in’ with the bar manager and who was he to deny anyone their moment of escape?
Not that Ally looked like an employee tonight. The dress she was wearing must have cost more than her monthly salary, and Adam knew a thing or two about women’s clothing. Namely how quickly, or slowly, it could be taken off. He also knew a thing or two about a woman’s body language and, interestingly, Ally’s wasn’t saying seduction. It was restrained, but companionable. Which was an odd combination for a woman sitting in a dark bar, having a drink with a reasonably attractive man.
A pair of legs entered Adam’s line of sight topped by a short skirt, just at the right height for a man to imagine drifting his fingers beneath.
‘I’ve been trying to catch your eye ever since you entered the bar, but you’ve been staring at that girl for so long, I figured a more direct approach might be called for.’ Honeyed tones, with a slight accent were delivered from a mouth that would make most grown men cry.
He angled his head up at her; big blue eyes peered back at him through the dim lighting and all but ate him up. He could feel the familiar buzz of attraction arc between them. On any other day, he would have been tempted. More than tempted.
‘Didn’t your mamma tell you not to talk to strangers?’ he asked.
‘She also told me to leave bad boys alone. But I never listened to her before, so why start now?’ Red painted lips curved into a delicious smile.
‘Run, sweetheart. While you still can.’ His words may have been flirtatious, but the girl must have picked something up from his tone, and with a pout, she turned and stalked off back to whatever part of the bar she had come from.
He caught Daniel’s eye again, and his slight nod of surprise. It wasn’t unheard of for Adam to turn down a pretty girl, but it was unusual. He’d been at The Chatsfield a couple of months, almost the longest he’d ever spent in one place. But then The Chatsfield had something that nowhere else had. Aside from the luxury, the sophistication, the understated opulence, it also housed the one person that he couldn’t just walk away from. And that person was interfering with things.
He had flown in from New York and landed in London for one thing and one thing only: business. He felt a small spark of satisfaction over the company he had grown from almost nothing, to become a transatlantic powerhouse.
The deal with KMG, London’s leading media company, was nearly in the bag, and time was running out. If all went well, he’d be out of here within a month. He mentally ran over a list of things needed for the meeting at the end of the week. He knew that his offer to buy out KMG was good. And they’d be mad not to want to join with Adam’s empire. He could offer them an international platform as well as more money than they could imagine getting from anyone else, and in exchange, Adam would finally have a foothold in Europe. Something that his father had never even dreamed of.
His father would have been so proud at what he’d achieved, he thought bitterly to himself.
A laugh almost escaped his lips at the thought. His father. The past. But then tonight was all about the past, wasn’t it? His mind drifted back to Jessie Loe; Lucilla Chatsfield’s Executive Assistant. He’d tried and failed, quite miserably he didn’t mind admitting to himself, to speak to her, but every time he got close, he just couldn’t find the words. He knew that today would be hard for Jessie too, the memories it must bring her, the pain. But tonight was his, for his pain. For his guilt.
His fist curled around the solid crystal glass containing a mouthful left of his first drink of the night, and for a moment he was almost reluctant to finish it. Before it led to another and another.
Just as he brought the glass to his lips, another was placed on his table. The sound of glass hitting the solid wood table echoed in his ears, and the woman’s fingers spread across the rim had not yet released their hold.
‘Sweetheart, I told you before, I’m not the company you’re looking for tonight.’
The lack of response, or even movement from the woman, drew his attention up and the wind was knocked out of his chest as if he’d been sucker punched.
‘Of all the gin joints in all the world… you can turn around and walk the hell out of this one,’ he demanded.
Chapter Two
‘You’re usually halfway to oblivion by now, but it looks like you’re slowing down in your old age, Adam.’
‘What are you doing here, Talia?’ Adam asked through gritted teeth.
‘I’m giving you a helping hand,’ she replied, sitting down gracefully on the small leather pouffe on the other side of the small table.
Adam tried not to drink in the sight of her, but the
year since he had last seen her seemed to have treated her well. Her half Indian, half American heritage coloured her skin a tantalising caramel, and the thick tresses of hair that had once hung so perfectly between her shoulder blades were now almost reaching her elbows. His fingers rubbed together of their own accord, as if remembering the feel of the silken strands within his hands.
Huge, wide eyes, the colour of midnight and sin starred back at him. It was her eyes that she was known for around the world; that had first captured the notice of a model scout on the streets of New York. And the fact that they came in a package that most women would kill for had only helped. Impossibly long legs and a gamine body that, outside of a catwalk, would be a disadvantage to most women but made her that much more desirable, sat before him as poised as ever.
Already he could feel the envious stares of the male occupants of the bar, clashing with the jealous glares of the women around them. He could almost feel the anger from the corner of the bar where the woman he had rejected earlier sat.
Talia was dressed in a dress that hugged her like a second skin. It slashed across her neck, leaving her shoulders bare, and covered her body all the way to her knees. It wasn’t overtly sexy though. And that was one of the things he’d always enjoyed about Talia. Her class.
Talia pushed the glass of whiskey towards him as he set the empty glass he had just finished down. The low lighting of the bar glinted off a diamond ring on her fourth finger and he cursed.
‘Congratulations are in order,’ he said, nodding to the ring.
She smiled, ignoring the bitter tone in his voice. The smile was genuine, not the fake one he had seen on the billboards across the world for whatever product she was modelling at that time. ‘Thank you.’
‘How did you find me?’ Adam asked, changing the subject as quickly as possible.
‘Your exploits are all over Twitter, sweetheart,’ she replied. ‘Really Adam, does the world need to know that you’ve seduced the Swedish swim team?’
‘It was the Austrian team and only three of them. And not all at the same time. Two were together, but the third came later… if you’ll excuse the pun,’ he replied, adding a roguish smile that felt awfully fake even to him.
Talia scoffed and he felt the wave of her breath against the skin on his neck.
‘I appreciate the effort Talia, but you should go.’
She nodded, but stayed where she was. Almost in defiance, he picked up the fresh glass of whiskey, holding her gaze as he swallowed a mouthful, and put it back on the table.
‘I know what this day means to you Adam. I’ve seen what it’s done to you in the past. Your defences are down, and this is the one day you can’t maintain that playboy, don’t give a crap façade.’
‘So you’ve come to rub it in?’ he asked, surprised by the curiosity in his voice, rather than the anger he expected to feel. ‘As you said, you’ve seen enough of it before, so why are you back now? Sticking the knife in that little bit more?’
‘No,’ she replied, shaking her head, and the light caught the strands of hair that fell over her shoulder in the wake of the movement. ‘No, not to stick the knife in. I’m happy Adam, I’ve found myself… a little. Some of the past hurts have been healed.’
‘So, what’s this? The final piece of the puzzle? Lay the past to rest before your wedding day?’
‘Isn’t that what you’re doing here?’ Talia asked, one immaculately shaped eyebrow raised, reinforcing the question.
‘I’m not getting married anytime soon,’ he said, ignoring the pit in his gut as it hollowed out. Pinpricks covered the skin beneath his shirt. ‘How did you really find me, Talia?’
‘Lucca Chatsfield called. Told me that you were staying here.’
Adam let the curse lose from his tongue, sending Lucca to hell and back.
‘Just because he’s found happiness with a princess, doesn’t mean he gets to interfere with my life. Doesn’t mean we can all be fixed, Tali,’ he bit out angrily, not even noticing that he’d used the name only he had called her. ‘Besides, since when were you and Lucca such bosom buddies?’
‘He was always a likeable rogue.’
‘Likeable rogue is one way of putting it. I’m not sure that you’d be so kind to me.’
‘Well, he seems to be happy with Lottie.’
‘Who would have thought it. The Playboy and the Princess.’
‘It works better than the Media Mogel and the Model ever did.’
The bark of laughter that erupted in his chest couldn’t be contained and Talia’s smile eased a bit of the ache in his heart.
‘We had some good times,’ he said, trying to keep the defensiveness from his tone.
‘We had a lot of good times,’ she soothed.
He leaned back in the leather chair, and his gaze shifted away from her to take in the whole bar. The world came rushing back, and he noticed Daniel looking over towards Ally. Adam’s eyes narrowed and for the first time, he took in the undercurrent lying awkwardly around Ally and her companion. The man’s hands were on her, and despite Ally’s attempts to put distance between them, the man wasn’t taking no for an answer.
‘Excuse me,’ Adam said, cutting off Talia’s response, standing up and weaving his way between tables and customers. He noticed that Daniel was doing the same, coming from the opposite side, and as they drew closer, the voices from Ally’s table grew louder.
‘This isn’t part of the-’
‘Screw that, darling, when I pay for something, I get it,’ said the man who had seriously overstepped the mark.
‘And when a lady says “no”, bud, it means “no”.’
Although his eyes were focused solely on the man, in his peripheral vision, he saw Ally glance up between him and Daniel.
‘Who the hell are you, I paid-’
‘Mr Karol, it doesn’t matter what drinks you paid for,’ interrupted Daniel, ‘this kind of behaviour is not tolerated at The Chatsfield. I’m not asking you to leave. I’m telling you.’
Some of the men sitting at the bar, familiar faces to Adam, stood from their stools waiting to see if their intervention was needed.
Karol looked up. Adam could see the realisation of a lost cause paint his features, and casting Ally one last glare, cursing her one last time, he made his way, slightly unsteadily, towards the exit.
If anyone noticed one of the Spanish guys who had been sitting at the bar follow in his wake, no one said anything.
‘You got this?’ Adam asked Daniel, nodding to Ally, still quite visibly shaken.
Daniel nodded and, with an arm around her shoulders, walked her to the bar.
Adam turned back to the table, hoping that Talia wouldn’t still be waiting and sighed when he caught her gaze on his.
She stood to meet him, and a small spark of hope sprang to life in his gut. ‘Seen enough? Finally leaving?’
‘Seen some, but not what I was looking for. Is the girl going to be okay?’
‘Yeah. Daniel’s looking after her.’
‘And the Spanish looking guys,’ she said, gesturing to the bar.
Adam shrugged, he’d never quite known what they were doing there, only that they were always in the bar.
‘Come on,’ she said, pulling at his elbow, and the spark of hope died as the electric current her touch had always brought, replaced it.
‘Where to?’
‘If you’ve got more drinking planned, then we’d better line your stomach.’
Chapter Three
The hum of polite conversation filled his ears, interposed with the clink of cutlery, as they followed the maitre d’ to a quieter table in the back. It had taken a moment for his eyes to adjust from the dim bar to the bright overhead chandeliers that lit the restaurant, rejuvenating diners and illuminating the delicious, photoshoot-worthy food. Over the last few months this had become ‘his’ table, and he didn’t have the heart to tell the head waiter that he didn’t want to sit there tonight. The man’s quiet friendliness, never too intrusive,
and never judgemental - no matter how many different women he had brought to dine in the Michelin starred restaurant at The Chatsfield - had always reminded Adam of an elegance and class that his father had never embodied, no matter how much money he’d made.
The maitre d’ left Adam to seat himself as he pulled out a chair for Talia. ‘Miss Tripathi, it’s a pleasure to have you at The Chatsfield.’
Adam couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his mouth, pleased by the man’s etiquette and pleased for Talia, he realised. She’d made it. International fame and a fiancé who he hoped to hell appreciated what he had.
They were left alone with the menus, but neither made a move to open them.
‘Wine?’ Adam asked.
‘Tonight’s your drinking night, not mine,’ Talia replied. She had never been much of a drinker, despite Adam’s penchant for parties. For the first time, he looked back over their relationship, with the distance that only time could offer, and realised that perhaps it hadn’t been all that fun for her. She worked long hours and flew halfway round the world regularly and Adam? Well, he worked hard and made sure he played harder.
‘Does he treat you well?’
‘The maitre d’ was very courteous.’
‘You know that wasn’t who I was asking about Tali. Your fiancé.’
Talia sighed, but again, that same happiness that he had seen when he offered her his congratulations lit up her features.
‘Yes,’ she let out a small laugh, ‘he does. He’s a fashion photographer of all things.’
‘And you said you’d never be happy with someone from that world,’ Adam replied, remembering her dislike of the industry she inhabited.
‘I didn’t think I would be. But Dominic’s different.’
‘How did you meet?’ Adam asked, finding solace in small talk. They’d never really done it when they were together, but perhaps that was where they’d gone wrong.
‘Do you remember Jacques?’
Adam frowned, and then remembered. ‘Yeah,’ he said leaning forward in his seat. ‘The… the…’
