The next day, James returned them to the Houston airport, where they took a quick and bumpy flight back to Austin.
Somehow, Lisa managed to fall asleep for the duration of the flight. She awoke to Adam murmuring, “Wake up, sleeping beauty,” in her ear. His beard stubble tickled her cheek and neck, bringing a smile to her lips.
Out of the airport and once again in the privacy of his chauffeured car, Adam closed the door and reached for her, and she nearly cried with relief.
“I’m going to miss you this week,” he murmured into her hair. “I’m going to miss getting to touch you and hold you, and look at your pretty face while we’re having a conversation about whatever random thing under the sun.” He took a deep breath, as if inhaling her scent to memorize it. “I’m going to miss looking into your eyes while we’re making love.”
She pressed her nose into his neck. It was unbelievable how much things had changed—how much she had changed—in the space of a few days. Somehow, she’d become a wanton woman, naughty and fully satisfied.
“This has been like living out a fantasy,” Adam admitted. When she pulled away and gave him a look, he shook his head. “I’m serious. I felt completely anonymous at that motel. I haven’t had that feeling in so long. It was perfect. For one night, we were just Steven and Lisa Masters. I didn’t have to worry about smiling for the cameras, or being anyone other than who I am. It was the most relaxed I’ve felt in a long time.”
“Oh. Good.” She nodded and looked out the window at the highway rushing past. It was good that Adam had felt so content. She knew it was good. She just couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit disappointed that his fantasy seemed to be more about privacy and anonymity than about spending intensive time with her, most of it naked.
And, of course, she was being silly. Whatever this was between them, it couldn’t last. Adam’s job took him all over the country, all the time. He couldn’t have a real relationship, not while he was working so intently on growing his business. And besides, there was their exit strategy—the one they hadn’t managed to discuss one bit for the entire rest of the weekend, since their dinner Friday night.
Maybe Adam wasn’t looking forward to staging a breakup, any more than she was.
On the other hand, maybe she should look at this weekend as a new beginning. A chance to start looking at life in a new way. The truth was, she was different now. Her time spent with Adam, being spoiled and adored, had cured her at some deep level: She no longer felt like a broken woman, used and discarded by an asshole ex who wasn’t even worth the heartbreak.
In that moment, looking out at the road and the scenery whizzing by as they rode into downtown Austin, Lisa made a decision. From here on out, she was done feeling lonely and washed-up. From now on, she would have no regrets. She would enjoy whatever experiences life handed her, and she wouldn’t worry about anything any more than necessary.
There it was—her new life philosophy. If it didn’t sound so similar to Clare’s haphazard, stubbornly solo approach to life, she might almost be able to convince herself it was a good one.
Next to her, Adam’s phone rang. When she glanced over, she saw him frowning at the Caller ID. “It’s Dan. I just this minute powered my phone back on.” He grimaced slightly. “He’s probably pissed I went off the grid for the entire weekend.”
“I hope everything is all right.”
As soon as Adam swiped the screen to answer the call, it was clear things weren’t all right, not in the least.
“What?” Adam demanded. “Jacob who? I don’t know any Jacob.” He stopped abruptly as Dan continued in what sounded like a tirade. “No, she didn’t— Dan, calm down. The guy is obviously a nutjob.”
“What’s going on?” Lisa mouthed, but Adam held up a hand and shook his head.
“Listen, I’m dropping Lisa off right now, and then I’ll call you back, all right? We’ll figure this out.”
He looked pensive as he rang off.
“What’s happening?” Lisa asked. Something was obviously wrong.
“Apparently,” Adam said slowly, “some guy named Jacob contacted the Mister-Match offices yesterday. He sent an email threatening to sell a story to the press unless we paid him off.”
Lisa frowned. “Story? What story does he have to sell?”
Adam looked at her carefully. “He’s saying he has nude photos of you. Photos from—from last week.”
“What?” It came out on a near-shriek. She sat up ramrod straight. She felt electrified. “Adam, you don’t—you can’t possibly believe that, do you?”
“Of course not,” he said, but he didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“I swear, the only person who could possibly have nude photos of me would be you. And as far as I know, you didn’t use a camera this weekend.” A jagged laugh erupted out of her chest. “Adam, the last man I was with before you was Rodney, a year ago. I mean, this is just ridiculous.” Her heartbeat was skittering in her chest, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. “God, do you think it could be Rodney who sent that email? Like, with a fake name? What was the name, again?”
“Dan said it came from someone named Jacob.”
“Jacob?” she sputtered. “I have no idea who that could be. I’ve never even gone out with anyone named...”
And then she fell silent.
The restaurateur. The fake restaurateur—the one she’d met for half a drink at the Sidecar, just last week. His name had been Jacob. She’d figured out within about five minutes of meeting him that the guy was a liar, and he hadn’t seemed particularly bright, either. Could he have emailed Mister-Match.com with such a preposterous claim?
“What?” Adam was asking, leaning in, looking concerned. “What is it?”
“Adam,” Lisa said. She was starting to feel ill. “I—I hate to say it, but I might know who this Jacob is.”
He shook his head. “Who?”
She was really starting to feel sick to her stomach. She closed her eyes briefly and then forced herself to speak. “I went out with a guy last week. He was a real loser, and a liar, too. His name was Jacob.” At the look on Adam’s face, she went on, hurriedly. “Obviously, I didn’t get naked with him. Not even close. We met for a drink at a bar. I didn’t even finish mine. The entire date was probably less than a half-hour long.”
Adam was just staring at her, as if waiting for the part where she would yell, Just kidding!
That killed her. “Look, it was another setup by Clare and Willow. They made me meet up with him.”
“They made you,” he repeated, his tone neutral.
“Well, yes, sort of,” she insisted. “But it was obvious from the start that he was a liar. A scammer. He said he owned a restaurant, and then it turned out he was just a busboy there, or something. He was just trying to impress me.”
“And you let him take photographs of you?”
“No!” she protested. “Of course not! I’m telling you, we barely met for twenty minutes. I had half a drink and then I left. The guy was a creep.”
Adam didn’t say anything, so she stopped talking. Her chest felt heavy, as if a weight were sitting on it.
After a moment, Adam spoke.
“You didn’t tell me you’d gone on another date with—with another man.”
Lisa winced. There was a note of betrayal in his voice, and she could hardly stand it. “Adam,” she said miserably, but he shook his head.
“No, I—” He stopped, ran a hand roughly through his hair. “You can go out with whoever you want. You can do whatever you want, with anyone you like. I just...” He shook his head again.
“Adam, whatever this is, between us, it’s not real. Is it? I mean, we’ve been playing roles. You’re Mister Match, and I’m your fiancée, and we’re going to break up soon. Right?”
“Right,” he agreed, but his voice was flat.
“It’s all been fake,” she said again, pleadingly. She was beginning to feel desperate—desperate to make him understand, to understand, herself
. Desperate to fix this ridiculous mess.
“You’re right. It’s all been fake. Since the beginning.” He looked down at the leather seat between them. “I guess,” he muttered, his voice so low she almost couldn’t hear the words, “I’m just the chump who started taking it seriously, somewhere along the line.”
He turned away from her and didn’t look at her again for the rest of the ride.
Adam was upset with her, and yet he was still enough of a gentleman to carry her things up the walk to the door of her apartment.
“Thank you,” she said, lamely, stopping on the small concrete stoop.
“You’re welcome.” He sounded stiff, and he was still avoiding her eyes.
“So what’s going to happen?” She shrugged. “What are you going to do about—about the email?”
“I’m going to call the police and press charges,” he said shortly.
Lisa raised her eyebrows. Involving the police made the whole thing sound so much more serious than she’d realized. “Oh. That’s probably smart.”
“If what you said is true,” Adam said, “then whoever sent that email, whether it’s your Jacob or someone else, he’s obviously lying about having nude pictures of you. And blackmail, or extortion, or whatever this is, is illegal.”
“Right.” Adam had said he was her Jacob. And he’d said “If what you said is true,” as if there were some doubt. Lisa rubbed a hand over her abdomen. The sick feeling that had begun in the car seemed to have settled in.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, even though the words sounded woefully inadequate. “I never should have gone out with him in the first place, but I definitely didn’t know it would lead to anything like this.”
Finally, Adam looked her in the eye. “Why did you go out with him, Lisa? Really. And don’t tell me it’s because your friends forced you to do it. We both know that’s not even possible.”
Lisa looked down at her feet. The frustration and hurt in his eyes were so apparent, right there at the surface. She hated that she’d hurt him. What could she possibly say that would make it any better?
Nothing. There was nothing she could say to make this situation any less awful. All she had was the truth.
“I went out with him,” she said, “because I couldn’t think of any good reason not to.”
Adam looked at her first with confusion, then with incredulity. “What does that even mean?”
“I wanted to be swept off my feet, okay?” She raised her arms, futilely trying to encompass the simultaneous enormity and simplicity of it. “I wanted to believe Clare and Willow might be right—that I deserve love in my life, that I’m not just a complete failure at relationships. That there might be a guy out there that could sweep me off my feet and treat me well and laugh with me and love me and be my best friend—”
She stopped talking, because she couldn’t make any more sound come out of her tear-clogged throat.
Adam’s expression had softened a degree. “I understand,” he said, a moment later. He shook his head, frowning again. “I also understand the non-disclosure agreement you signed didn’t say anything explicit about not dating other people, or any action at all expected on your part besides not talking to the press about Mister-Match matters. I just didn’t think you would go out with anyone during the term of our agreement.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “I mean, anyone other than me.”
The afternoon sun was shining on his dark hair, and Lisa could see tiny beads of sweat on his forehead and at his temples. She had the inexplicable urge to lick his skin, to taste the saltiness she knew she would find there.
If things between them had still been lighthearted, sexually charged, as they had been before now, she might have done it. But the mood between them was heavy and filled with hurt.
So she kept the distance between them. “I’m sorry,” she said again, though it was such an inadequate expression. “My date with Reese happened before—before I signed anything with you, and before we—you know.”
Adam nodded, glancing away.
“And the date with Jacob,” she went on, “if you can even call it that—it was after I signed the agreement, and I’m sorry for that. It was stupid of me to do it. I guess I just wasn’t thinking about being in the public eye. I was still thinking I was just little old me. Anonymous, nobody me.” She sighed. “It was thoughtless, and I’m sorry.”
“Well,” Adam said, and glanced back to where the driver, James, was still waiting in the car at the curb. “It’s done. I’ll deal with it from here.”
There was a scratching at Lisa’s front door just then, coming from the inside.
“Mr. Monkey,” she said, smiling in spite of her dark mood.
“Who?” Adam asked.
“My cat. I guess he heard us talking.”
As if in answer, an annoyed meow came from inside.
“You should go in,” Adam said, and backed away a pace. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Am I still—do you still need me next weekend?” Lisa asked, suddenly feeling almost panicky at the way things were between them.
“We’ll talk later this week,” he said. “We’ll have to see where things stand for the next Dream Date. Depending on various factors, it might—” He stopped and cleared his throat. For the briefest second, she could see the muscles in his jaw quiver, as if he were wrestling with something. “It might just be best if we implement our exit strategy sooner rather than later.”
“Oh.” Lisa swallowed, hard, and nodded. “All right. Let me know.”
A brief smile flickered across Adam’s lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Talk to you soon,” he said, and then turned and loped back to the car.
Lisa watched him go, feeling a heaviness settle into the pit of her stomach as he got into the backseat and closed the door.
She didn’t open her front door until the car had rolled away.
Chapter 27
____________________________________
Lisa managed to get through work on Monday without missing Adam too terribly. At least, that was what she adamantly pretended to herself. It took more willpower than she’d realized she had—sternly telling her brain to forget about him when it repeatedly turned toward the subject of Adam Masters—but somehow, she did it. She got through the day.
“Are we on for tonight at Diego’s?” Clare asked as she finished organizing her client sheets for the following day. “I want to hear all about your weekend with Mr. Wonderful.”
Willow, sitting in one of the chairs opposite Clare’s desk, clapped her hands. “Oh, I’ve been wanting to ask all day! But I didn’t want to pry, so...”
“So you just waited for me to do it,” Clare finished for her, with a wink.
Willow shrugged, smiling blithely.
Lisa tried to smile too, but instead, she felt her mouth twist into something closer to an unhappy grimace. “We’re on for tonight,” she said, turning away. She hadn’t yet told them what had happened. If Willow saw her face, she would know instantly something was wrong.
Of course, the story was going to come out, sooner or later. Lisa could never keep things from her best friends for long. Trying to do so now was an exercise in futility.
Apparently, she had even more in common with Adam than she’d already thought. He’d accused himself of avoiding reality, and now she was doing the same.
She could feel Clare’s eyes on her. “Are you all right? You’ve seemed kind of off all day.”
“I’m fine.” Lisa busied herself with digging through her purse for her car keys. “It was a long weekend, that’s all.”
“You aren’t wearing the ring,” Clare observed.
Lisa played dumb. “What ring?”
Clare gave her a look that said she wasn’t buying the bull Lisa was trying to serve up. “Your engagement ring. Did something happen between you and Adam?”
“I haven’t been wearing the ring to work,” Lisa hedged, “because it’s easier to do massages without it. And I don’t want t
o lose it. And I don’t want Harry Richmond asking questions and getting all excited.”
Each of those was somewhat true. There was no need to mention the rest of the truth—the fact that she’d worn the ring all night long, and then resolutely put it away in a drawer this morning. Doing so had made her sadder than she would have expected. But she needed to face the fact that her brief, mad affair with Adam might already be over. Whenever things ended officially, she would take the ring to a jeweler for appraisal and then find a buyer.
There was a beat of silence, and then Clare rounded her desk. “Okay. Out with it. What happened?”
“When? Nothing.”
“Stop lying,” Clare said. “You aren’t good at it. You have the most obvious tell in the book.” She pointed accusingly at Lisa. “When you lie, you don’t make eye contact.”
Lisa glanced away, rolling her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about—”
Clare shifted her body a pace so that she was standing directly in the path of Lisa’s averted gaze. “See?” she said, pointedly. “There’s no point, so just stop. Tell us what happened.”
Lisa shook her head. “I want to tell you guys, I just...” She let out a breath. “I don’t know if I should. Especially not at Diego’s. Someone might overhear us, and...that would be bad.”
“We don’t have to go out,” Clare said. “We can stay right here, if you want.”
“Already on it,” Willow said. She had risen and gone to the front door of the spa. Now she flipped the last of the door’s three locks into place and then turned back to Lisa and Clare. “There,” she said. “No one else is getting in here. We have complete privacy. So let’s talk, sweetie. Tell us what went wrong.”
Twenty minutes later, Clare had opened a bottle of pinot noir she’d stashed in her desk—“In case of emergency,” she’d explained—and splashed some into three plastic cups, one for each of them. Now she was hooting and shaking her head, while Willow tapped a slim finger against the tip of her nose, in what appeared to be deep concentration.
Mister Match (The Match Series Book 1) Page 23
