by T V Hartwell
She hadn’t been to Adam’s house in more than a year and feeling a little curious to pop in and have a look, she arrived ten minutes early. When Adam buzzed her into the high gate that, along with tall hedges, hid and separated his house from the winding, narrow street, Amanda saw him standing there, waiting for her at the front door as she walked along the pathway of large granite slabs and across a small footbridge that spanned a koi pond to meet him. Like most of the houses in the bird streets, Adam’s was ultra-modern and contemporary in architectural design and landscape with a spectacular, commanding view of the Los Angeles basin, and all the way to Catalina Island on a clear day. Adam had on a dark pair of jeans from John Varvatos with a light V-neck sweater that appeared to be a mix of lavender and blue in color, beautifully bringing out his dark blue eyes, Amanda thought. His dark wavy hair was slicked back and perfectly coifed as usual, and the fact that he stood barefoot in those slim fit jeans made him look extra sexy to her. From head to toe, Adam always had the most impeccable grooming habits.
“Hellooo,” Adam said with a big grin on his face as she stepped toward him.
“Hi, Adam,” she said returning the smile and reaching to hug and kiss him on the cheek.
“You’re lookin’ good, as always,” he said, still holding her around the waist as he surveyed her close up.
“And you smell good, as always.” Then she leaned back to check him out while still locked in his embrace. “Adam, I swear, you have the most beautiful teeth. Did you have teeth whitening done recently?”
“No, not recently. I guess I’m just really good at brushing,” he said, smiling broadly as if to impress her more.
“It’s good see to you,” she said pulling away, unlocking their embrace.
“You too. I guess it’s safe to say this isn’t a dream after all. You’re actually standing here. In my house. I never thought I’d see you here. Ever again.”
“Well, here I am,” she said, smiling and lifting her shoulders in a golly sort of way.
“Here you are indeed. Come in,” he said, taking her hand and leading her toward the kitchen that opened out into an expansive living room filled with contemporary style furnishings and décor with museum quality, abstract paintings adorning the walls from some of the hottest emerging LA and New York based artists. “Want a drink?”
“Sure. Although we shouldn’t linger too long. Don’t want to be late,” she said in a half serious, half cutesy way.
“Ehh,” Adam uttered, brushing her assertion aside. “Don’t you own the place?”
“My parents are investors.”
“That’s right. I remember there being some sort of connection,” he said as he opened the door to his built-in wine cooler along the wall next to his built-in refrigerator. “Chardonnay?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
“There’s no way they’d take your table away from you, especially not without trying to call and track you down first.”
“Probably. Although that’s never happened before. I always try to be on time,” she said before stepping away to look around at his walls for a moment as he busied himself with uncorking the wine bottle. “Did you get new artwork? I don’t remember that piece over there.”
“Yeah, I’ve picked up a few things since you were last here. Trying to build up my collection. I got that one shortly after we broke up . . . to make me feel better after you walked out on me,” he said, trying to appear serious as he began to pour wine.
Amanda snickered, not buying it, as she looked over at him with a sneer. Adam lifted his eyes to hers and started to laugh. She broke into a laugh too.
He walked over to her and passed her a glass of wine. “Salud.”
“Salud,” she said back as she clinked her wineglass to his. Adam proceeded to talk about some of the new art pieces he’d acquired and boastfully shared how much money he’d spent, dropping anywhere from twenty-five to ninety-five thousand dollars per piece. As Amanda listened attentively, she thought, I could get used to this again, feeling comfortable and at home standing next to Adam in his place. The sexy vibe of his house combined with Adam’s confidence, energy, and even his cockiness and pride, reignited her desire for him again. Recalling the times they’d made love right there in the living room, on the kitchen counter, and outdoors, late at night next to the pool with the bright lights of the city sparkling below, Amanda felt like she was succumbing to a trance. Take me now, Adam, she wanted to say. Then chastised herself. Must be the alcohol.
They eventually hightailed it out of there, zooming down the hill to make their way to the restaurant in Beverly Hills. As promised, Amanda showed Adam, also a lover of fast cars, a thing or two about how to zigzag through traffic to own the road when in a hurry. “Okay, speed racer, slow down,” he admonished, but she pressed on, causing him to have a few heart palpitations.
“See . . . now you know how it feels.”
“See what? I don’t drive as fast as you. No way.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You just nearly rear-ended that Bentley back there.”
“But I didn’t. My lane changing skills are pretty dope, huh?”
Adam laughed at her use of the term. “Dope? What . . . are we using ghetto slang these days?”
“Yo, man, chill. You’re messin’ wit’ my flo, homey. I got this,” she said pursing her lips and bouncing in her seat while flashing gangsta like signs at him with her right hand. She and Adam both busted up laughing at her silliness.
“Yeah, you’re pretty dope in every way. God, I love you,” he said as they pulled up to a stoplight. “Come here,” he said, grabbing her chin to turn her face toward his, and then he landed one on her lips. Amanda didn’t recoil. She kissed him back before turning her attention again to the road and zooming off to their destination.
When they arrived at Artisan, the place was packed and humming with A-listers. “Wow,” Adam said, observing the room as they waited momentarily for the host to seat them.
“It’s Friday night and this is the place to be,” Amanda said matter-of-factly.
“You’re right about that.”
Although nearly fifteen minutes late, indeed their table awaited them just as Adam had predicted. Amanda felt like a movie star as they walked through the packed room to their cozy leather booth with all eyes seemingly zeroed in on them. She could hear indiscreet whispers as they passed other tables, “There’s Adam Weinstock,” “Is that Amanda Climent?” “She’s a co-owner . . .” she overheard another voice start to say before trailing off. “No, I’m not. My parents are,” Amanda said under her breath to no one in particular.
“What?” Adam said as they sat down.
“Nothing.”
After they’d settled in and had their dinners placed before them, chef and owner Paul Dumont made his way over to their table.
“There he is,” Adam said jovially, extending his hand to greet Paul. Amanda had introduced them when she and Adam had previously dated, and Adam had been a regular patron ever since, but mostly at the original location in New York where he spent a lot of time.
“Adam, my friend, nice to see you,” Paul said before quickly pivoting to acknowledge Amanda, bending down to kiss her cheek to cheek. It was the first time he’d seen her since her wedding cancellation.
“So good to see you. How are you?” Paul asked her.
“Everything’s great. I was in Paris last weekend with some girlfriends and I went to Bruno’s. He told me to tell you hello.”
“Did you? I haven’t been to Paris or seen Bruno in nearly two years. I’m way overdue for a visit. You know we went to culinary school together.”
“I know. He told me. It’s so great to see that you both have your own restaurants and are doing so well.”
“Yeah, he’s doing some amazing things over there. Paris is such an incredibly competitive market for haute cuisine. But, of course, his family’s been in the restaurant business there for years, so having an established name like that helped hi
m to get his feet off the ground.”
“I know. We’ve been going to their restaurants for a long time and when Bruno opened his own right down the street from our house there, we became regulars.”
“Well, he should be so lucky.”
“I don’t think I’ve been to this place,” Adam interjected. “What’s the restaurant called?”
“Bruno’s,” Amanda and Paul both said at the same time. “He named it after himself,” Paul continued. “I know, how inventive, right? But seriously, he’s a very talented chef, bringing the American concept of farm-to-table cuisine to French food in a creative way.”
“Hmmm.” Adam was curious.
“You should try it next time you’re in Paris. I’m surprised you haven’t discovered it yet. This guy gets around,” Paul said to Amanda. Then looking back at Adam he asked, “Were you in New York this week? Like on Monday or Tuesday?”
“Yeah, I was. In fact I was at Artisan New York for lunch on Tuesday.”
“I thought that was you, Adam. I saw you and meant to come over to say hello, but then the rush hit and by the time I was out of the weeds you were gone. I’m so sorry. I hope everything was to your liking.”
“Always, Paul. Always. So are you back and forth every week?”
“Pretty much. I tend to rotate weekends between each coast; Thursday through Sunday between LA and Vegas and then in New York the following weekend and then back here.”
“I guess that’s the jet-setting life of a celebrity chef.”
Paul blushed. “Well, it can be quite exhausting and impact your sleep, but overall I’m pretty happy with my life. I love what I do. But what about you? You travel as much as I do.”
“Touche,” Adam said.
“Well, I’ll let you two go so that you can enjoy your meals,” Paul said, leaning down to kiss Amanda on the cheek again.
She held on to his hand as he attempted to step away. “Paul, I’m so sorry about everything . . . with the wedding and all.”
“Oh, please. Don’t even. Are you kidding? No need to apologize to me for anything.”
“But I know how hard you worked on everything and all the time and effort you put into it.”
“Don’t even mention it. I’m just so happy to see you out and smiling. And you look amazing, as always. Just like your mom. Doesn’t she look like Camilla?” he said to Adam.
“Yeah, she does,” Adam agreed, looking at her.
“Okay, okay. You can go now,” Amanda said, waving at Paul and giggling uncomfortably, not wanting to reveal in any way that she didn’t consider the comparison a compliment.
After dining at the restaurant for a good hour and a half, enjoying each other’s company, the busboy came over to clear their table. “You’ve barely touched half your plate,” Adam observed. “Didn’t you like your meal?”
“Yeah, I did, but I guess I lost my appetite a little. I was no longer that hungry after we got here.”
“Well, I guess that means there will be no dessert for you.”
“Now I didn’t say that. I might be up for a little dessert later,” she said, rubbing her foot against his leg under the table, stopping Adam in his tracks as he stared at her, frozen.
“So exactly what kind of dessert did you have in mind?” he deadpanned, locking eyes with her.
Recalling how he’d once licked chocolate fondue off her as she lay on the countertop of the center island in his kitchen, Amanda smiled devilishly. “Remember those chocolate covered strawberries we made together? Those sound good. Really good.”
Adam’s reaction went from a blush faced grin to a full chuckle. He looked down and licked his lips, trying his best to contain his mirth, not wanting to appear too gleeful and eager. “Aah, yes . . . yes, I remember that well,” he finally managed to get out, rubbing his chin and still smiling. “Well, that could be arranged if that’s what you’d like.”
Amanda stared back at him with a smile and licked her lips.
“We’ll need to make a quick stop to pick up some things.”
“Fine with me,” she said, removing her napkin from her lap and placing it atop the table. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
As Adam and Amanda made their way out of the restaurant, they both saw people they knew and exchanged words briefly. Paul reemerged to say goodbye, giving Amanda a wink and saying, “I like this guy,” referring to Adam. Amanda just smiled back at him.
“You take care of this girl,” Paul said to Adam. “This is a very special lady right here. One of a kind.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I very much already know,” Adam said as he grabbed Amanda by the hand to walk her outside to her waiting car. The valet had already been told to pull it around, a perk typically reserved for VIP and celebrity patrons so that they don’t have to stand and wait in the queue, exposed to paparazzi and the glare of flashing bulbs in their faces. But that didn’t stop the paps. “Hey, Adam, how ya doing tonight?” one shouted as if he knew Adam personally, a common trick of the trade.
“Hey, man, great,” Adam said politely as he continued to walk past them.
“Who’s the lovely lady?” another one asked. “There’s always a different one,” a third voice said with an obnoxious chuckle.
Amanda rolled her eyes, but did her best to conceal it as she held her head down slightly.
“I’ll drive,” Adam said assertively to Amanda as he led her directly to the passenger side door being held open by one of the valets.
I’m not about to argue the point, she thought with the lightbulbs flashing on them, lest they see a headline the next day claiming they’d gotten into a knock ’em down fight right in front of Artisan. Although not a celebutante in the vein of Paris Hilton, whom she knew casually and would see on occasion at fashion shows and parties, Amanda was savvy enough to know how to behave around the paparazzi. Always be polite and keep your mouth shut around them, except for a quick “hello” and “goodbye” and a “thank you” if one offered you a compliment.
Once they were safely fastened in the car and on their way, a light suddenly went off in Amanda’s head. “They saw us holding hands,” she said with a degree of concern in her voice, but not sure why.
Adam snickered slyly and grinned as he shifted the gears of her Porsche to accelerate. “Oh, well.”
Amanda looked at him and registered his indifference. “Oh, well,” she concurred, raising her shoulders, not wanting to make a big deal of it.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Five
Adam and Amanda made a quick stop at Bristol Farms to pick up some strawberries and chocolate after leaving the restaurant.
“How about these?” he said, pointing out a package to her in the produce section.
“Yeah, those look okay.”
“That sounded a little less than enthusiastic.”
“I like them big.”
“You like ’em big, huh?” he said looking at her mischievously, making her crack up.
“Shut up,” Amanda said, slapping his upper arm. “I like my strawberries big,” she clarified, laughing and red in the face.
“Oh, I know what you meant. You forgot that we have history, and I know that you like things big. Really big,” Adam said, piling on with a wide grin.
Amanda began to laugh hysterically, feeling embarrassed. “Adam, you know what I meant.”
“Oh yeah, I know what you meant, all right, and I’ve still got big for you. The biggest, juiciest—” he said in a raised voice before Amanda covered his mouth with her hand, laughing so hard that her stomach began to hurt.
“Adam, would you stop?”
When he appeared willing and ready to quiet down, she removed her hand. Then he stepped away from her just a few feet. “As I was saying the biggest, juiciest—”
“Adam!” she yelled, incredulous, as a couple of other shoppers started to notice them.
He held up his index finger signaling her to hold on. “The biggest, juiciest, organic jumbo strawberries. See w
hat I found, honey? Just for you,” he said holding them up in showman-like fashion, knowing he now had a small audience of other shoppers watching too.
Amanda stood there shaking her head at him, trying to contain her amusement. She wanted to appear annoyed and irritated, but it was too hard. Adam was too damn gorgeous and she liked his playfulness even though it was embarrassing at times.
When they walked back out to the car, he unlocked it and then he went to open the door for her, but just before he did, he held the door shut, his fingers on the handle. Amanda turned herself slightly to look back him and then he placed his hands to her hips, pulling her so that she turned around completely to face him, and then he went for a kiss—soft, sensual, and lingering.
Amanda kissed back, allowing his lips to bite and pull on hers causing a rush of wetness under her panties and making her suddenly weak in the knees.
“It’s pure happiness to be with you,” he said.
Looking at him dreamily and seduced by his words, she placed one hand to the back of his head to stroke his hair before going in for another kiss to affirm her desire for him. He responded by kissing her back harder, inserting his tongue into her mouth to meet and collide with hers.
As they drove back up the hill to Adam’s place he reached over with his right hand to rub and squeeze her thigh before using his fingers to grip it more tightly. Amanda placed her hand on top of his to hold it down, not wanting him to let go.
After they stepped out of the car, Adam sidled up next to her and held her around the waist tightly. He resumed kissing her softly as they slowly walked to the front door of his house.
Once they made it inside things began to get so hot and heavy between them that Amanda thought Adam would pick her up and carry her straight to the bedroom. As they stood there in the entrance kissing passionately, he eventually noticed that the hands wrapped around his neck were still holding a package of strawberries. Adam stopped and took them from her, walking over to the kitchen to place them on the counter. Amanda followed behind not sure if he wanted to dig into them or dig right into her. She hoped the latter.
