Chapter 2
The dull thump of Adam’s suitcase as he tossed it on the bed matched the dull thump of Poppy McDonald’s heart. It was time for him to leave again.
She heard him padding from bathroom to bedroom to closet, heard drawers opening and closing, heard him humming softly like his departure wasn’t the big deal to him that it was for her.
Poppy pictured him, deep in concentration as though packing a suitcase was a surgical procedure and he was a cardiothoracic surgeon. Shoes encased in cloth covers to the bottom, pants and shirts neatly folded and stacked on one side, toiletries to the other. She’d watched him do it countless times over the past five years. She knew the routine.
He was the total opposite of her and she’d once flippantly suggested he had OCD. He’d been furious even when she’d joked that everyone had a bit of obsessive-compulsive in them. He hadn’t seen the humor and since then she stayed out of his way when he packed.
Finally the zipper closed. Poppy checked her watch and frowned. They still had hours left together, so why was he packing so early?
A heaviness landed on her chest. She hated these good-byes. Had she known their relationship would end up being long distance, would she have said yes to that drink he offered her in the first place five years ago? Maybe.
Most likely not.
She stared toward Central Park, watched the sun glinting and reflecting off the skyscrapers and wondered how to stall him.
“Babe, have you seen my cell?” His voice drifted from the bedroom.
“It’s in the kitchen. On the bench – counter,” Poppy corrected herself without turning around.
She scanned the view again and the pleasure of their four magical days together evaporated like mist off a lake. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. She wanted more than these short stolen moments with him. She wanted him all to herself forever.
Poppy sighed softly even though he couldn’t hear her. She knew the rules. Be patient and wait. One day when Adam was famous he could live wherever he wanted, but until he’d made it, he claimed he had to base himself in L.A., the center of the film industry. Which left her holed up alone in New York, in an apartment he owned, waiting for him to visit whenever he could. She simply had to take what she could get of his time and make the most of it.
Adam came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her and pressed himself against her. “I’m going to miss you so much, babe.” His breath was warm against her ear and his aftershave filled her nostrils.
Poppy allowed the sheer curtain to fall back in place. “I’m going to miss you too,” she replied. And while she truly meant every word, something heavy pressed unexpectedly against her heart.
“At least I know with a view like that you’ll never leave me.” Below them on the street, cars whizzed past, horns honking, the sounds muted.
She tensed. What a weird thing to say. Why would she leave him?
“Sometimes I miss the wide open spaces back home,” she said.
“At least you’ve got the park.”
She nodded. “I suppose.”
He turned her around to face him. “What’s wrong?”
Poppy slid her palms across the contours of Adam’s chest, feeling the definition under his T-shirt. In preparation for his next role, he’d been working out for hours each day and it was evident.
She found it difficult to look at him, but when she did, his movie star looks overwhelmed her once more. He hadn’t shaved for four days and with his beard and messy dark curls he looked like the quintessential bad boy. This persona was so different from his last role when his hair was shorter and his skin smooth, reminding her of a young Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic. She’d preferred that look a lot more.
“You’re packed early,” she murmured. She didn’t want to remind him again that she wished he could base himself fulltime in New York with her.
Adam raked a hand through his hair. “I wanted to surprise you. I thought we could go out for breakfast before I leave. To that little place you were telling me about,” he said.
Out? For breakfast? In public? Poppy stood rooted to the spot, staring into his eyes. “Are you sure?”
He shrugged. “I’ll wear a hat.”
Poppy felt her smile transform into a grin. They almost never went out in public together. The change in Adam’s rules was unexpected, but she wasn’t about to complain.
She kissed him on the cheek. “Let me grab my bag and coat. Won’t be a sec.”
Adam followed her to the kitchen where her purse sat beside his wallet and phone.
“If anyone asks who you are, I’ll tell them you’re my sister,” he said, scooping up his wallet and dropping it into his coat. The phone went into the back pocket of his jeans.
Poppy slipped her arms into her heavy coat and clutched the bag to her chest. “I’m sure everyone knows you don’t have a sister. Especially not one with an Australian accent.”
She didn’t really like it, but she understood why he didn’t want them photographed together. He said it was so the paparazzi didn’t chase her looking for gossip. That didn’t make much sense to her because Adam wasn’t really a household name yet, but she’d given up worrying about it and decided it was sweet that he was so protective of her.
“Cousin then?”
“I doubt that would work. You’re not really the kind of guy who’d catch up with his cousins.”
“Publicist?”
“Relax, Adam, it’s New York, not Hollywood. No one will even look twice. You’re not that famous yet,” she teased, pinching him on the backside.
She thought she saw a flicker of anger in his eyes, but then it was gone. Her heart twisted. Maybe it wasn’t anger, but fear. Perhaps he was having second thoughts about going out in public. She tugged him closer, kissed him on the lips, grabbed his backside again and squeezed. “It will be fine, I promise.”
Adam glanced at the door and back at her. Was he about to change his mind?
He inhaled deeply. “I’ll get a hat.”
Poppy waited at the front door for him. He returned, tugging the brim of his NY Yankees cap low on his head and turning up the collar of his jacket.
“You look like any other tourist,” she lied, flashing him a smile as they waited for the elevator doors to open. She nudged him in the ribs. “Come on, this will be fun.”
They stepped out of her building and a chilly wind hit them, stealing the air from Poppy’s lungs.
She shivered. “Who said it was spring? It’s freezing! After all these years I still forget how cold it is.” She tucked her arm in the crook of his. “It looks gorgeous through the window but as soon as you step outside the shock almost kills you. I wonder if I’ll ever get used to it. This winter seems to be never-ending. They say a cold front is sweeping down from Canada. I guess that’s why the leaves haven’t started to bud on the trees yet.”
She rabbited on about nothing, filling the gap, not coping with his silence. Something she always did when she was nervous.
She had to jog to keep up with him. Head down, eyes lowered, he didn’t look like a tourist – he looked like a man trying to avoid notice. Poppy tried not to laugh because she knew how much he hated publicity. And if anyone saw them together … She trembled, this time not from the cold as much as from apprehension.
She tugged at his sleeve. “Slow down. If you keep walking so fast, people will notice you.”
“How far away is this place?” Adam’s eyes darted left to right. “I thought you said it was in the same block.”
Poppy pointed. “Just up ahead.”
He exhaled. “Good. I’ll go in, get us a table in the back and you can order. You know what I like.”
Poppy fought the urge to roll her eyes. No one was going to notice Adam in the café she frequented, and if they did, like she’d told him, it wasn’t Hollywood. They wouldn’t swoop and swoon like seagulls at the beach on a serving of fish and chips and ask for his autograph.
As Adam placed his hand on t
he door, it was shoved open from inside. A man crashed out, colliding with Adam and causing him to step back onto Poppy’s foot. She yelped, backpedaled, grabbed at the air then crashed onto her backside on the sidewalk.
“Ouch!”
“Jeez, sorry love. You ’orright?” the huge man asked.
Hearing him speak, Poppy smiled. Until then she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the Australian accent. Grabbing his outstretched hand, she allowed him to pull her up. “Thanks,” she said, brushing her bottom. Other than her pride, she was unhurt.
A teenager bounced over to them. “Dad is such a klutz,” she said, shooting a sheepish look at Poppy.
“Yeah, sorry,” the man repeated. “I wasn’t looking.” He glanced at Adam. “Are you okay, mate?”
Adam tugged at his hat, lowered his eyes. “Fine,” he said.
Poppy heard the girl’s sharp intake of breath then a squeal and spun to look at her. The tween was staring at Adam with her mouth open, her eyes wide. Poppy’s heart sank. She’d recognized him.
“Hi,” the girl gushed. Eyelashes fluttered. “I’m Alisha. We’re visiting from Australia. I’m a huge fan. Can I take a photo of us?” Before Adam, or Poppy, or anyone could stop her, Alisha pulled out her phone, stepped between them, angled the device and snapped. “Can I get your autograph too?” Her head was down, checking the image on her screen so she missed Adam’s clenched teeth and white lips.
Poppy put her hand on Adam’s arm and squeezed. “It was nice meeting you, Alisha, but we need to keep going.” Poppy deliberately put on the American accent she’d perfected since moving to America. It was easier for people to understand her and easier for anonymity. And Adam preferred it that way. He said the Australian accent was too harsh. Besides, if Alisha and her father heard the familiar accent, there’d be more awkward questions to answer.
Alisha’s face fell.
Adam shook Poppy’s arm off. “It’s no problem.” He pasted on a smile, the one he wore consistently for the cameras. “I’m more than happy to give you an autograph, Alisha. Do you have a pen?”
If Poppy didn’t know him as well as she did, she would have thought he sounded sincere.
Alisha rifled through her backpack. She found a pen and a small notebook and held them triumphantly in the air before passing them to Adam. He opened to a blank page, squiggled a signature and handed the book and pen back to her.
“Can I take another photo of just the two of us?” She glanced with apology at Poppy. “Sorry.”
Poppy shrugged and smiled. She didn’t mind in the least. She wasn’t interested in the bright lights of the red carpet and would do anything to avoid the hype Adam seemed to thrive on as part of his job.
Alisha passed Poppy the cell phone with instructions on which button to press before sidling close to Adam, draping her arms around him and beaming at the camera. Adam flashed another one of the million-dollar smiles for which he was famous and Poppy took the picture. She handed the phone back to Alisha.
“Thanks so much,” Alisha said. “Are you an actress too?”
“No, I’m his publicist—”
“No, she’s my cousin—”
Adam and Poppy spoke at the same time and Alisha frowned before shrugging her shoulders. “Whatever. So nice to meet you.”
“Alisha, honey, these people need to eat.” Alisha’s dad spoke up, pulling his star-struck daughter away.
Adam patted his jacket. “Actually I think I left my wallet at your place, Poppy.” He turned to Alisha and her dad. “Nice meeting you both.”
Adam dragged Poppy along the street back home. She followed with heavy feet.
With a clenched jaw he strode into the lobby of her building and jabbed his finger twice on the call button.
What a disaster.
Chapter 3
A red flush burned across Adam’s face and down his neck. Poppy was equally annoyed. She was tired of his Jekyll and Hyde misbehavior. Adam was the consummate fan-pleaser in public, but sometimes when they were alone and something annoyed him, he took it out on her and treated her like dirt. Usually she was the peacekeeper who ran from confrontation faster than an Olympic-medal hundred-meter sprinter but maybe that needed to change.
As soon as the doors closed, she knew what would happen. He would give her a hard time for forcing him to go out in public – as though it was her suggestion in the first place! She glanced at him again but he adjusted his hat and refused to look at her.
The elevator arrived and with a ping the doors opened. They rode the six floors in icy silence and at her door he shifted from foot to foot waiting for her to get her keys out and unlock it. When it opened, he shoved past. Poppy eased the door closed behind her, leaned against it and swallowed the hurt once more. Adam dumped his hat and phone on the coffee table, went straight to the window, and stood where she had stood less than half an hour earlier.
She went into the kitchen and pretended to be busy.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked finally.
Typical – he wasn’t going to apologize for his behavior.
“Working.”
He exhaled loudly. “We’ve been through this babe. You don’t need to work.”
Her throat tightened. Adam allowed her to live rent-free in his apartment and each time he visited he left her money to cover food and bills. It was always more than enough. Therefore, anything she earned from her job she put away in her savings account which was now a healthy nest egg. Some days she hated the way he looked after her, but the reality was, without his help she wouldn’t survive life in the city on her own. Especially not in such a gorgeous apartment.
She poured herself a glass of water and went to his side. “If I don’t work, what am I supposed to do? Wait around for your next conjugal visit?”
He smirked. “Would that be so bad?”
She bit her lip. Was sex all he thought about? Didn’t he know by now she wanted more than that? Not the kids, but the ring on her finger at least.
His phone buzzed, vibrating and spinning a little on the glass surface of the table. He glanced down at it and froze.
“I have to take this,” he said, snatching it up and avoiding her gaze.
Poppy frowned. Why was he acting so secretive?
“Hey, sweetie,” Adam said as he put the phone to his ear and went into her bedroom.
Sweetie?
Who was he talking to? She eyed her bedroom door. He’d left it ajar. Desperately wanting to hear what he was saying, she crept across the thick carpet on shaky legs. Ears straining, she willed her pounding heart to be quiet.
“Aw Jules, honey, don’t cry. We’ll keep trying.”
Jules? Keep trying? Poppy’s throat tightened. Who was Jules? Trying what?
“There’s always next month.”
She clenched her hands at her side as crazy thoughts flooded her brain, then almost laughed aloud at how paranoid she was being. He was probably talking to some actress friend. Maybe they’d both missed getting a part in a movie or something.
But the longer she listened to his side of the conversation something heavy landed in the bottom of her gut and began to churn. Was he having an affair?
The bedroom door opened and she stiffened when Adam came and stood beside her. His hair was messed from where he’d been running his hands through it. He did that when he was troubled. She fought the urge to run her own fingers through the soft curls and kiss him until she forgot Jules existed. She needed answers.
“I’m sorry that call took so long, babe.”
Poppy’s skin prickled. “Who’s Jules?” she asked.
Adam froze before studying a faded stain in the carpet, grinding the toe of his sneaker into it.
Poppy vividly remembered the night they’d made love in front of the fire and knocked over their glasses of red wine. As much as she’d scrubbed at the carpet after he was gone the next morning, the blemish had never come out.
“Adam?”
“She was my co-star in a
film a couple of years ago,” he said.
“Really? You call your co-stars ‘sweetie’ and ‘honey’?”
He met her steady gaze but remained quiet.
She sucked in a breath. “Sounded like you must have been very close co-stars. Did you sleep with her?”
The moment the question was out Poppy wished she could grab the words from the air and stuff them back inside her mouth.
“Were you listening to my conversation?”
His words were quiet and measured, the meaning lethal. She’d never heard him use that tone before.
“You didn’t shut the bedroom door,” she retorted.
“I expect privacy when I take important phone calls.”
She swallowed and opened her mouth to speak and apologize but he jumped in before she had a chance.
“Don’t jump to conclusions Poppy. I was talking to Juliet. A friend of mine. A former co-star. She’s going through a difficult time right now and I’m looking out for her.”
An instant headache formed behind Poppy’s eyes. Maybe she’d totally misunderstood. “I’m sorry, Adam.”
He sighed heavily. “Babe, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me. You know that, right?”
A tear slipped free and she folded into him the way she always did. Why had she doubted him? Pressing her cheek to his T-shirt, she inhaled the smell of his aftershave mixed with the body wash and deodorant he always used.
After a minute she pulled free to look at him. “How much longer will we have to keep living in different cities? I know you can’t come to New York, but I’m sure I could find work in L.A. so we could be together all the time.”
A muscle tightened in his jaw before his features relaxed. “I don’t know.” He gave her a smile that did nothing to ease the tension between her shoulder blades. “I don’t want you coming to L.A. and then a week later I get a role based somewhere else. It’s best if we just keep things as they are for now.” He brushed her hair from her face, traced her jawline and kissed her lips. “I love you. Honest, I do. And I can’t imagine life without you.”
Critical Condition Page 2
