by Noelle Adams
A black luxury sedan from a car service waited at the curb. As she hauled her baby carrier and bag across the sidewalk, a man got out of the backseat.
Adam Peterson was as polished and handsome as the car he emerged from on the gray afternoon. No trace of the adorably geeky guy she’d eaten lunches with five years ago.
Without comment or greeting, he reached over to take Logan’s carrier and the bag as she climbed into the plush seat. Then he helped her attach the carrier into place.
“Do you need anything?” Adam asked as the car pulled into the street. His voice and his eyes were almost cool.
Zoe shook her head. “Thanks for picking me up. You didn’t have to.”
He slanted her a quick impatient look, as if she’d said something foolish, but he didn’t say anything.
Zoe didn’t say anything either.
She’d thought he liked her well enough back then, but the friendship obviously wasn’t lasting. Their temporary camaraderie at the café had gradually faded into distant civility as he started acting like a “real” Peterson. He’d become a corporate honcho, propelling the one little trivia game into a franchise empire, with hundreds of game versions for computers, gaming consoles, mobile aps, and social media platforms—plus merchandise in endless forms.
She assumed he’d just outgrown his friendliness toward her, the way he’d outgrown his camp shirts. It might also have had something to do with the lingering tension between Josh and Adam, which had heightened and lessened at different times during the years.
Either way, she hadn’t let it bother her. Her life had always been filled with so much more.
Four years ago, Zoe had married Josh Peterson.
And now she had to bury him.
***
Her first date with Josh had been a disaster.
He’d taken her to a loud, trendy restaurant and had been abrasively arrogant, in what she later discovered was an attempt to impress her. He’d spent the whole time bragging about how brilliant the design of Light Switch was and how Adam would have just been a nerd with an idea without him.
Shortly into dinner, she’d been stewing and vowing never to go out with the asshole again. At the end of the date, after one smug comment too many, she’d let Josh have it, berating him with a litany of his obnoxious ways as they stood on the sidewalk outside her apartment.
He hadn’t appreciated her criticism and had given as good as he’d gotten—calling her self-righteous, inhibited, and boring.
The argument had become heated, and it had ended in the hottest, wildest sex she’d ever had.
* * *
Zoe jerked when she felt an elbow nudge her.
She’d lost track of the funeral service—the voices blurring into a dull roar in her ears. She hadn’t been asleep, but she’d completely zoned out, thinking about that first evening with Josh and all the evenings that followed it.
She gave Adam an annoyed look, since he was the one who had elbowed her. They were both sitting on the front pew of the beautiful historical sanctuary of an Episcopal church, and she really hoped the service was almost over.
Adam gave a discreet nod toward the front of the sanctuary, and Zoe realized she’d been about to miss the eulogy by Josh’s best friend, Michael Murray.
When Josh had wanted to start a software company three years ago—separate from the Light Switch empire—he’d partnered with Michael. He and Adam had been on the outs that year, and Josh had been trying to get some distance from his cousin.
Michael was almost in tears as he spoke, but Zoe sat in stiff, tense composure. The funeral was well-attended, since Josh had a lot of friends and the Petersons had a long history and deep connections in the city.
Zoe appreciated Michael’s words and his obvious affection for her husband, but she couldn’t take much more of this.
Logan was asleep in the baby carrier beside her, and she had to fight not to pick him up, hug him to her chest, and take comfort in his warm, little body. Adam was like a cool automaton beside her—his well-chiseled face calm, his graceful hands relaxed, without even the smallest flicker of emotion.
Josh had never had so many layers. If he was happy, he showed it. If he was angry, he showed it. If he had something to say, he just said it.
But, to Zoe, it seemed like all of Adam’s feelings, all of who he’d been back in the café, was hidden, reined in, held back beneath the “real Peterson” shell.
Zoe wondered if Adam grieved for Josh at all. She was sure the guy who’d teased her with trivia questions five years ago would have grieved, but that guy appeared to have completely vanished.
* * *
Adam was beside her again at the graveside, as they laid her husband’s body in the ground, and he was beside her once more at the reception that followed.
She didn’t really like him the way she had before, but there was something strangely reassuring about his silent, solid presence beside her.
The reception was at the Murrays’ house, since Zoe wasn’t up to having it at hers. Friends trickled in and out to share their love and support, and she tried to look alert and appreciative.
But mostly she wanted to curl up in a ball and hide.
Adam had left her side, for the first time all day, as Zoe stood with Jane and Dan, a couple who had been friends with her and Josh since before their marriage. They were playing with Logan—trying to get him to giggle and clap his hands. Zoe smiled at his glee, but she was starting to feel very unsteady. She was shaking slightly for no reason, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.
“Zoe,” Adam said, returning from wherever he’d gone and taking her by the arm, “you should sit down.”
“I don’t need to—” she began, annoyed by his presumption and pulling her arm away. But she was suddenly hit by a wave of dizziness so intense she thought she would pass out. She swayed, catching onto Adam’s jacket as he slipped an arm around her.
“Sit down,” he told her, his voice unexpectedly curt. “Don’t be foolish.”
She was distracted from her dizziness by her annoyance. “No one asked you for help,” she snapped, keeping her voice low out of general respect for the occasion. “I’m fine.”
“You are not fine. You haven’t gotten any sleep for months, you haven’t really eaten in weeks, and you’re about to drop.” Adam’s black eyes were just as cool as normal, although his voice sounded a little hoarse. “So sit down unless you want to faint.”
She scowled at him but—since he might have a very small point—she let him lead her to the sofa where her mother was sitting. She’d moved to Florida after Zoe’s father had died a couple of years ago, but she’d flown up last week when Josh was nearing the end.
“Logan,” Zoe said as she sat down.
“He’s fine,” Adam said, glancing over to where Jane and Dan were still playing with the baby. He looked then at her mother and instructed, “Don’t let anyone talk to her for a few minutes.”
She gasped in indignation over this blatant bossiness, but her mom reached over and put an arm around her. “Just take a minute and relax. You don’t have to be on the whole time.”
Zoe suddenly felt like she was going to fall apart, and she shook against her mother for a few seconds, trying not to cry. Then she leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes—grateful that no one was talking to her and also grateful that Adam had taken himself away.
He returned sooner than she was hoping. “Here,” he said, handing her a plate of food and a glass of water. “Eat this.”
For a moment, Zoe wanted to slap him. She had been through hell, and he seemed to have no qualms about treating her in that rude, domineering way. “No. I’m not hungry.”
He put the plate on her lap and the glass on the coffee table in front of her. “Eat it anyway.”
Then he just walked away.
“That man is an asshole,” she muttered. She had no idea why she hadn’t recognized that tendancy in him when they’d first met.
Her m
other chuckled. “I think he was trying to help.”
“He needs some lessons in helping.”
She sat and stewed about Adam’s annoying attitude for a minute. Then, since the plate of food was right there in front of her, she picked up a soft roll and ate it.
Since the roll didn’t taste too bad, she ate some of the salad. Then she tried the chicken and pasta salad. She was just finishing up the chocolate cake when she heard Logan crying.
Immediately, she put the plate down and started to stand up so she could go over and comfort her baby.
But before she could move she saw Adam take Logan out of Jane’s hands. Zoe blinked in surprise, since Adam didn’t strike her as a baby-person.
She understood when he started walking in her direction. Adam hadn’t been trying to comfort Logan. He’d simply been bringing her son to her.
It was an odd sight—Adam in his expensive black suit, holding a squirming, whimpering six-month old. He didn’t look entirely comfortable with the baby against his chest, but Logan actually quieted a little.
Adam was related to Logan. Maybe the her son could somehow recognize it.
Zoe took Logan from Adam’s hands and cradled him against her. “He’s hungry.” She needed to nurse him, and she didn’t like to do it in front of everyone. She looked around for Michael or his wife so she could ask them if she could use another room.
“Sit tight,” Adam said, as if she’d actually spoken. “I’ll ask.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “Sit tight, he tells me,” she muttered to Logan, who was crabbily trying to pull at her jacket. “Your Uncle Adam is kind of bossy. Don’t you think so?”
Logan babbled something Zoe took to be agreement.
But she was grateful when Adam returned shortly saying she could use the guest room just off the main living room. She took Logan into the room to nurse him and had the strange feeling that Adam was standing guard at the door.
When they were having lunches together, she’d thought he was funny and cute and brilliant. She wouldn’t have minded getting to know him better, if he’d made any advances at all.
But then she’d met Josh.
Adam had mostly ignored her existence since her wedding to Josh. They’d seen each other often enough, of course, and they’d never been hostile or openly unpleasant. But Adam had always been entirely wrapped up in his own world—work, Light Switch, making more money than he could ever spend, being a Peterson—and Zoe hadn’t even been a blip on his radar.
She didn’t have enough emotional energy to wonder about his obnoxious attentiveness here at the reception. Maybe it was just a random channeling of grief or guilt regarding Josh.
Josh was the Peterson who mattered to her, and Josh was the one who had died.
Zoe suddenly realized, as she nursed her son in a strange guest room, that the funeral and burial were over, and she hadn’t really said goodbye to her husband.
She didn’t really need to.
For the last eight months she’d been crying over Josh, bringing him to the hospital for treatment, sitting beside his bed as he slept, holding his hand as he suffered, watching him slip away.
She’d been saying goodbye to him for eight months. Today was simply the end.
Three
Zoe was beginning to profoundly regret whatever impulse had prompted her to take Logan to Adam’s downtown office in the middle of the day instead of letting Adam stop by her apartment after work as he’d suggested.
After spending two weeks in Florida with her mother—trying to rest and recover—she was finally ready to deal with a number of loose ends, including a lot of paperwork that still needed to be completed.
She’d thought she would be more comfortable in an office than having Adam in her home, but now that she was here—sitting at the small conference table in his very impressive office—she couldn’t imagine what she’d been thinking. She felt out of place and kind of silly, in her jeans and brown velvet jacket with a baby carrier and a diaper bag at her feet.
Adam was tied up with something. The office wasn’t particularly stuffy or traditional—it was a video game franchise, after all—but this was clearly a professional environment and babies didn’t usually make an appearance.
Josh had always said, often with a roll of his eyes, that Adam ran a very tight ship.
She really wished Josh hadn’t made Adam the executor of his will and estate. She had no idea why he had.
A voice from the doorway startled her. “Sorry you had to wait. I couldn’t get away from a meeting.” Adam entered the office, looking like a consummate Peterson in a suit and tie, despite the fact that most of his employees wore business casual.
Ridiculously, she missed the wrinkled khakis and camp shirts he used to wear.
Brushing that random thought aside, Zoe stood up as he approached. “No problem. I’ve just got here a few minutes ago.”
She sat back down at the table, and Adam took the chair across from her. His eyes slanted down to Logan, who was starting to shift and squirm in the carrier.
“How was Florida?”
“Good. The weather was great, and it was nice to spend some time with my mom.”
“Were you able to catch up on your sleep?”
That question seemed overly personal. Her sleep habits really weren't Adam’s business. But she had already resolved to be civil and professional in this discussion, so instead of objecting, she just arched her eyebrows. “I’m fine.”
His eyes were so sharp and penetrating it was almost intimidating, but Zoe refused to be intimidated by him. She met his eyes evenly.
Finally, he said, “You look a little better. Are you ready to get started? We have a lot of paperwork to get through.”
She nodded, hating that Josh’s life and work had been reduced to a file folder of papers for her to sign. “I figured.”
He opened the file and pulled out the first set of papers, and she forced the bubble of emotion back into her recesses of her heart. This was necessary. This was life. And Josh had been so much more than this.
Adam explained each document with a precision and clarity that even Zoe had to admire. Her lawyer had already okayed it all, but Adam clearly wanted to make sure she understood everything about how, according to their business contract, Josh’s share of the company would now be sold to Adam, all of the proceeds going to her.
They made it through most of the pile with impressive efficiency, and Zoe couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in Adam’s mind.
When she’d known him before—at the café on their lunch hours—he’d never been so distant and aloof. He hadn’t been shy or particularly reserved. Just careful. About what he did. What he said.
He was more than careful now. He didn’t reveal anything.
She couldn’t help but wonder, if she could strip away the cool composure, whether he was still the same man who’d talked to her about Greek words, mystery novels, and ancient history.
“Zoe,” Adam prompted, tilting his head as he tried to meet her eyes, “did you hear me?”
“No,” she admitted, shaking herself out of her reverie. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“I was saying that you probably need to start thinking about what you want to do with Byte Tech.”
Zoe’s brows drew together. Byte Tech was Josh’s software company—the one that had nothing to do with Adam. “What do you mean?”
“You have a few options,” Adam explained, glancing down to the baby carrier when Logan made a few whimpers. “You can sell out, of course. I would offer you a fair price for it.”
“What?” Zoe choked. “Sell out?”
Adam didn’t react to her dumbfounded tone. “It’s just a possibility. I’m not recommending it, but it would be the easiest thing for you to do.”
“I’m not going to sell you Josh’s company so you can swallow it up into your corporate black hole. He never really felt like Light Switch was him. Light Switch was always you. But Byte Tech—it was him. He was so pro
ud of it.” She started to tear up, so she looked away, hating that she wasn’t able to control her emotions, particularly in front of Adam.
“You don’t have to sell. We can arrange something else. I could help Michael manage it until—”
“What is this?” Zoe demanded, feeling like she’d had the rug pulled out from under her. “You’re trying to take it for yourself?”
She tried to moderate her tone, but it was too late.
Logan, who’d been waking up for the last several minutes, started to howl. It wasn’t his hungry crying or his tired whimpers. Or even his shrieks when he needed a diaper change. It was the wails he made whenever he was generally displeased with the world.
Zoe reached down to pick him up, trying to keep herself relaxed and calm so he wouldn’t pick up tense vibes from her, since those would always upset him more. She held him against her chest, patting his back and murmuring something wordless and soothing.
Logan just howled in outrage.
“What’s wrong with him? Is he hungry?”
She stood up so she could walk Logan around. “I just fed him before we came over. I think he’s just generally peeved.”
She was upset and embarrassed and flustered, and she really wished Logan would stop screaming. She had to fight to stay relaxed, and she hated the feel of Adam’s eyes on her as she walked Logan back and forth in front of the windows.
She tried all of the tricks at her disposal, including lifting Logan up high so he could look down at her face. But nothing worked. He kept screaming, his face red and the trail of a single tear down his cheek.
Adam appeared at her side suddenly, so unexpectedly that Zoe actually gasped. “Is there something I can do?” he asked.
Zoe shook her head. To her horror, she actually felt tears burning in her eyes. She’d thought after her two weeks of rest she wouldn't break down like this for no reason. “No. He’s just upset.”
She turned her back on Adam, mostly so she could hide her expression. She walked down the length of the windows again, silently willing Logan to settle down and willing herself to hold it together.
