Birth of Adam (Artificial Intelligence Book 2)

by Liza O'Connor

  Adam then reminded her of her walking lesson today.

  “Oh...but I do actually have an appointment at ten.”

  “Cancel it.”

  “I’m not canceling it,” Adam warned her.

  “It’s only an hour. A Mr. Davis is supposed to come and teach me how to walk.”

  “Paul Davis?” Richart asked. When Amanda nodded, he turned to Bastion. “She needs him. She walks like a cow.”

  “Don’t cancel,” Bastion said.

  “I am very pleased you took my advice,” Richart said. “And most impressed you were able to get Paul Davis to agree to help you. Does he know you are an American?”

  “I don’t know. My friend Adam hired him for me. Does he dislike Americans?”

  “Detests them!”

  “Well, yes, but I meant more than other Frenchmen,” she teased.

  “We will only speak French, and he will not discover you are American until he has fallen in love with you, and then it will not matter,” Simon assured her.

  After Amanda sang the entire aria, Bastion congratulated her on improving further, then focused in on the flaws remaining.

  By the time Paul Davis arrived at ten to teach the cow to walk, she was very happy to escape singing and most willing to let him mold her bovine waddle into a swan’s glide. He was clearly good friends with all three of the men, and shamelessly flirted with Monsieur Bastion. Finally, she understood Adam’s and Jacque’s comments, which left her more confused than ever. If Bastion and Simon were gay, why had they kissed her?

  Once she’d improved her walk, Paul flirted with her as well. He especially enjoyed placing his hands on her hips and swaying them back and forth while he pressed his manhood against her buttocks.

  She’d hoped someone would come to her rescue, but her professors appeared to be enjoying the show, so she endured his playfulness and tried to focus on his words.

  At the end of the hour, he showed no interest in leaving, and Bastion asked Sondra if there was enough food for one more. She assured him there was.

  Determined to regain her rightful place in the house, Amanda asked Paul if he would like to join them for lunch. Paul kissed her on her lips and said he would love to.

  “You cannot charge her for any more time, Paul. As of now, she is mine again,” Bastion insisted, and led Amanda to the piano.

  “I hope he has not undone all our hard work this morning.”

  “So do I!”

  Bastion chucked her beneath the chin and resumed his seat on the couch.

  “Sing it from memory,” Simon suggested as he sat down at the piano. “If you mess up, then we’ll blame it on Paul.”

  Amanda laughed at his subterfuge and closed her eyes. She actually found it easier to sing without the sheet music, since the complexity of the scales made it almost impossible to read. By singing instinctively, her emotions seemed stronger. When she’d finished, Paul declared himself in love.

  “Stand in line,” Bastion replied, and listed several mistakes he had heard. She wanted to sing it again, but Bastion insisted she rest her voice for at least a half-hour.

  “Perhaps lunch is ready?” he suggested.

  Amanda smiled at his heavy-handedness and turned toward the kitchen just as Andrew announced in his very fine base voice, “Lunch is served.”

  Again Andrew and Sondra did not join them, but she didn’t insist. However, when she saw Martin watching them from the kitchen door, she asked him to join their conversation and after a glance into the kitchen, he sat down beside Bastion and smiled at him. Bastion patted Martin’s back and introduced him to Paul as a musical genius.

  “He’s a bit young for you,” Paul said.

  Bastion’s smiled disappeared. “Martin is a student and a friend of Miss Carrington’s. His parents are guests in this house, presently in the next room.”

  Paul instantly apologized to Martin, Bastion and Amanda. “It was only a tease.”

  As if sensing he was at fault, Martin slipped from his chair and returned to the kitchen.

  Bastion was angrier than Amanda had ever seen him. “I need to see how my other student is doing. Perhaps you will join me, Paul?” he suggested in a voice that left no doubt Paul would accompany him.

  Before either man could stand, the knocker on the front door slammed repeatedly as if an angry woodpecker had arrived and wanted to devour the occupants.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Andrew hurried to the front door and opened it to Jules, who, upon seeing everyone at the dining table, proceeded to storm inside and bellow at Bastion for putting everyone’s reputation at risk with his foolish attempt to keep Don Carlos’ opera intact.

  “Would you like lunch, Jules?” Amanda asked.

  Jules focused on her instantly. She could tell he liked what he saw. “Yes, I would. Could you see to it personally?”

  “I will leave the room so you may speak to Monsieur Bastion. But be warned, if you yell, I will still hear every word you say.”

  He approached her and stroked her hair. “I always act with your best interests in mind.” His hand fisted and pressed the center of his chest as he grimaced.

  She worried he was getting an ulcer.

  “We’ll talk more once I’ve spoken to Bastion,” he said.

  “I trust you.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll remain in the kitchen until you call me.” Not wishing to go hungry, she gathered up her plate and joined Martin and his family at the kitchen table.

  She perceived no difference in Martin. He seemed happy and contented, seated beside his mother, eating lunch.

  “Does Mr. Bavard wish his lunch served?” Sondra asked.

  “Not until he calls for me. He and Bastion wish to argue right now.”

  “Argue over what?”

  “Jules doesn’t think I should sing Camille’s aria.”

  “Why not?” Sondra asked.

  “He doesn’t think I’m ready for such a difficult role.”

  Just then, Jules’s voice rose sufficiently for his words to be heard. “She’s too green!”

  Amanda was surprised by how much his declaration hurt, even though she’d just spoken his sentiment.

  Martin looked up at her. “You’re ready.”

  She smiled and covered his hand with hers. “Thank you!”

  She lost her appetite as the two continued to argue and their words became loud enough to hear. Both men were angrier than she had ever heard them. Finally, Simon threw himself into the mix and suggested perhaps Jules should hear her first.

  “You have every reason to believe she could not possibly be ready for such a role, for it is not probable that she could master such a complex piece in a day, but you have not actually heard her sing. And until she sings, neither of you will give way.”

  Jules stormed into the kitchen. Sondra tried to give him his food, but he rudely waved her off. He walked over to Amanda and sat down beside her. “We are going to go back out there, you are going to sing, and then I am sending all your entourage away.”

  “Martin, Sondra and Andrew live here,” she reminded him, fearing he would try to oust them.

  He smiled and stroked her cheek. “I remember. I was talking about the entourage out there. What is Paul Davis doing here?”

  “Teaching me to walk.”

  She could tell from the set of his jaw he was angry again.

  “I walked like a cow, so Adam hired Paul to teach me, and it was very helpful.”

  “Adam hired him?” he repeated, and visibly calmed.

  She nodded.

  “It was a fine idea. However, having him come on the day you were supposed to be learning the most difficult aria ever written was foolish.”

  “Well, Adam didn’t know about the aria when he set it up, and honestly I needed a break from singing. They are very demanding taskmasters.”

  “And the song is impossible to sing. Don Carlos was a genius, but I seriously doubt the aria will ever be heard.”

  “But it d
eserves to! It is so beautiful!”

  He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Then perhaps someday, when you’ve mastered it, it will be so.” He stood up and took her hand. “However, right now we need to untangle you from Bastion’s crusade to save his lover’s aria.”

  Now Bastion’s habit of becoming master of this house made sense. Don Carlos and Bastion had been partners. “Why didn’t Don Carlos leave this house to Bastion?”

  “Actually, he did, but Don Carlos’ wife contested the will and the house was returned to her. She then sold it to an American as a slap in the face to Bastion.” He gripped her chin and focused on her. “Now, I need you to sing the aria so there is no question I have fairly heard you before I stop this nonsense.”

  Amanda hardly considered it “fair” when he had already decided her fate, but she nodded and walked into the music room.

  Simon sat at the piano and smiled at her. He handed Jules the sheet music. “She knows it by memory,” he said, then winked at Amanda.

  Amanda found Jules a bit too imposing to stare at, so she focused on Martin, who had followed them in and sat on the floor beside Bastion.

  Martin proved to be a very fine audience for her aria. Several notes in, he closed his eyes and smiled as if he were listening to angels singing. When she finished, he remained in his blessed state.

  Jules pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the lips. “I was completely wrong. You are ready to sing the most difficult aria ever written.”

  Bastion rose. “Well, if that is settled, then I shall leave you to your lunch and see how my lesser-skilled student has progressed. Simon, Richart, perhaps you can help. Michel appears to have lost his ability to teach.”

  Soon all five men were gone. As Andrew closed the door, Amanda smiled at Jules. “It seems you’ve achieved half your plan. My entourage is gone.”

  Sondra brought out fresh lunches for both of them. Amanda started to remind Sondra she had already eaten, but realized she had barely touched her food and happily attacked the fresh crepes.

  “Why did you not tell me that you could sing that aria?” Jules demanded.

  “You didn’t believe Bastion—why would you believe an egocentric student?” she teased.

  He nodded and declared the crepes delicious.

  “Sondra is a fabulous cook,” Amanda agreed. “If I wasn’t running up and down stairs all day, I’d have put on twenty pounds by now.”

  “You’re stunning.” He cocked his head to one side as he studied her. “Are you wearing makeup now?”

  “No.” She hated makeup. It made her eyes burn.

  “Something’s different.”

  “I had my hair styled and I’m wearing a sexy red dress and high heels. That’s very different for me.”

  “Was this Adam’s doing?”

  She nodded that it was.

  “It’s an excellent improvement.” And while his words were positive, his pained expression suggested he hated complimenting Adam’s efforts. “I was a bit concerned about how your ‘friend’ was going to react when I pulled you from the aria. He had called me right after Bastion told me about his crazy scheme and said he liked the idea. I hadn’t planned to tell him anything until I heard you sing. When I woke up this morning on my flight and listened to my messages, I had one from Anon claiming you were hideous and if I cared a whit about my reputation I would have you pulled before the audition.”

  “So did you interrupt my lunch to save your reputation or mine?”

  His eyes narrowed at her precocious question. “Yours. Mine would survive, because Jacque is a friend and would have no problem believing Bastion would go around me to save Don’s aria.”

  Amanda shook her head. “Bastion wants the aria sung to perfection. He wouldn’t allow me to ruin it. He is still not satisfied with my performance. Mark my words, he will be tweaking me until the very last performance.”

  “I still don’t understand how you could learn it in a day.”

  “Well, Simon and Pinchot get much of the credit. Everyone was very concerned I didn’t strain my voice last night and this morning, so most of the time was spent mentally understanding the music. I think you heard the tenth time I’ve sung it through, but in between each attempt, they’ve filled my head with minute detail as to how the song should be sung. Fortunately, Simon was able to organize these details by helping me understand what Don Carlos wanted to achieve. It made everything so much easier. The scale runs, for example—had I tried to memorize them, I would probably have suffered a brain freeze. There is simply too much information to consciously process.”

  “I agree. So how did you overcome it?”

  “The same way I’ve learned to speak French.” She showed him Adam’s program to help her learn the language. She moved to his side of the table, and scooted a chair next to his so he could watch her play the program as she explained the concept of learning phrases rather than words, thus removing the temptation to translate.

  When his arm slid across her back and his hand curled onto her waist, she thought of Mark and how they used to cuddle and learn French together. She put the game up and blotted her eyes with the edge of the tablecloth.

  He handed her his handkerchief. “What’s wrong?”

  “Playing the game reminded me of Mark. He and I would play it together,” she explained.

  “Then you’ve split?” he asked in surprise.

  His words stunned her. Mark had said Jules forced him to break up with her.

  “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  He paused. “If you recall, you promised not to get involved with him.”

  “I thought I could resist him. But underneath all those good looks and arrogance is a very sweet and caring person.” She blotted her eyes again.

  Jules pulled her to his chest and held her. “I ordered Mark to break it off with you a month ago, and he kept putting it off, insisting you were having a rough time with the professors, and if he left you, you might quit the program altogether. I told him three days ago either to break it off or I’d drop him. When Bastion called wanting you to sing this aria, I was certain Mark had ignored my order. Confirming that belief was Mr. Hamilton demanding I pull you from the school. I was certain if Mark had returned to Beth, Hamilton would back off. Also, every time I try calling Mark, he refuses to answer his phone.”

  “He’s quite miserable, and you would be too if you had to be petted like a dog all day by a psychopath.”

  “Well, if Hamilton doesn’t sign that contract this week, I’m going to give the poor dog permission to run away—but not to you.”

  “What’s wrong with me?”

  He turned her face up to his. “Not a damn thing,” he declared, and for a moment looked as if he might kiss her again. “Would you like to give me a tour of Paris?”

  “We’ll have to take Andrew, because I don’t know where anything is,” she warned.

  “Does Andrew drive a Bentley here as well?”

  “I think it’s a Rolls Royce, but it’s very comfortable.”

  His smile indicated the car would do. “Then gather up Andrew and let’s go. I’ve only a few good hours before I drop from jetlag.”

  ***

  Amanda had to laugh at how easy being a tour guide turned out to be. Jules told Andrew where to drive and Andrew drove there. Along the way, Jules pointed out various sites and discussed the history of France in great detail.

  When they arrived at the Louvre, the man at the ticket booth welcomed Jules by name.

  Amanda eyed him with speculation. “Evidence is gathering that you have been to Paris once or twice before and perhaps did not require a tour guide at all.”

  He laughed as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against his side. “Perhaps I have been here a few times before, but never with anyone half so charming and delightful.”

  He led her down a hall past a sign saying “Members Only” and into a garden where a waiter offered them drinks. He interrogated the waiter as to th
e vintages of the wines, then selected the white wine for both of them.

  As he led her around the garden, he introduced her to people as the most extraordinary talent he had ever discovered.

  One tall, rather good-looking man laughed and declared Jules besotted. She expected Jules’ response to be anger, or at least indignation. Instead he laughed and declared, “In two weeks you will be besotted as well, mark my words.”

  “What happens in two weeks?” the man asked.

  “I cannot say,” Jules replied.

  The man looked at Amanda. “So, what happens in two weeks?”

  “Well, if Jules cannot say, I certainly cannot,” she scolded the man.

  The man laughed and took her hand, kissing it. “I don’t need to wait two weeks—I’m besotted now.”

  Soon after that conversation, Jules declared that jetlag had caught up with him, and they left the Louvre without seeing a single painting or statue.

  “Jules, isn’t the Mona Lisa at the Louvre?” she asked.

  He patted her leg. “Yes, and if you’re very good, I believe I can finagle you a private tour when the museum is closed.”

  He pointed to a building coming into view and began his history lessons again. When he finally tired of lecturing, he asked her how her voice felt.

  “It’s fine. Bastion was very careful not to overtask it.”

  He proceeded to quiz her on her dead Russian instructor, to ensure she still remembered the details. With Adam’s help, she survived the inquisition.

  Satisfied, he closed his eyes and declared himself exhausted.

  “Shall I ask Andrew to drop you off at your hotel?” she offered.

  “My luggage is at your house and I’ve yet to arrange for a hotel. I was hoping someone who possessed a rather large home might have the good manners to invite me to stay.”

  She laughed. “Andrew, is there a room in our house in which Jules can stay?”

  Andrew promised Sondra would see to it, and called his wife on the phone.

  She stared at Jules, who to all appearances seemed to be asleep. “Jules,” she whispered. “Would you like to stay at my house? While I clearly lack good manners, I seem to have an extra room.”