Rogue Affair

by Tamsen Parker

  “We’ll be there in an hour or so. If the traffic behaves, and I can follow the directions.”

  “Okay. Do you want me to help navigate?”

  He didn’t say anything about the loud growl that emanated from his stomach or the fact that he was probably as exhausted as he looked

  She shook her head. “Close your eyes, I’ll get you there safe and sound.”

  “Thanks.”

  She was glad she was driving, of course, because that way she couldn’t watch him sleep.

  A couple of hours later, Tam pulled into a parking lot. It looked like a strip mall, but the buildings had a similar feel to them. She’d done her research since the last time she’d been here. Now she knew they were a marvel of vertical integration, and owned by the same company.

  “Hey,” she whispered.

  Adam wasn’t slow to wake; the motion was immediate. One minute he was asleep, the next he wasn’t, his eyes bright, blinking and focused. He gave a roll of his shoulders and then a slight lift of his lips. “Hey,” he replied.

  His voice wasn’t even scratchy. “Nice nap?”

  He shrugged as he reached for the seatbelt. “I dozed,” he answered. “We’re here?”

  She nodded. “Traffic wasn’t bad; we made it in pretty good time. Still hungry?”

  His answer was pre-empted by a rumbling. He laughed. “Apparently so.”

  Suddenly, the weight of his gaze was on her. “You okay?”

  She nodded. She’d been thinking as they drove. “Thinking. About a lot of different things,” she clarified. Thoughts were burning tracks in her head and she wanted to wait a bit before admitting to them.

  “Okay,” he said. “Let’s go and eat.”

  She smiled, got out of the car and followed Adam into the store.

  It felt like an insult to call the place Tamara had taken him for lunch a supermarket.

  There was a small supermarket not far from where his parents lived that had a really cool buffet set up. There were supermarkets in the DC area that had prepared food sections and nice seating areas. You could fit at least three of the small supermarkets and maybe one of the DC stores in this place.

  It was a citadel, an enclosed public market that made his head spin and his stomach scream. He walked alongside Tam and tried not to stare or gape. He was a diplomat, not a boy from the sticks.

  “This is…” he managed once the words came together. “This is amazing.”

  “You’re speechless?”

  He laughed. It was comfortable. So was her smile. “I’m…this is …yeah.”

  The look on her face told him she knew he’d slipped. He’d spent a great deal of his professional life teaching himself to use an accent that would have felt at home in one of the many exclusive private schools in Toronto; not on the hockey rinks where he’d practically grown up. And he’d mostly managed it. Except around her. He couldn’t hold that bland, emotionless accent much around her, and from that familiar expression, she understood.

  “You’ve used up your words,” she said. “That’s fine. I think this is one of the crown jewels of Central New York.”

  Adam reminded himself that he was here on business. And that business wasn’t her. So he tore his gaze away from her and looked around the large café area of the store. It wasn’t just a ‘salad bar’ as they’d called it, and it wasn’t just a buffet either. The way the sections, counters, bars, and stations were set up and organized, the smells mingling together like an expensive cologne - it all triggered memories of something else.

  A trip to Pennsylvania when it had first crossed his mind that they didn’t have to be just friends. Suddenly, there had been a line he could cross, and he knew he’d love every second he’d spend beyond that border.

  And another. A crazy impulsive weekend when he’d taken her to see his friends play hockey. In his memory, she’d been smiling.

  Now, here in Pittsford, she stood in front of him as if waiting for him to say something. He’d remembered she told him she’d been thinking, and the glutton for punishment he was couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been thinking about them and his offered apology. It couldn’t hurt to drop that memory into the conversation.

  “Place like this…what did they call it in Pennsylvania? A smorgasbord?”

  The tide of memory seemed to wash across her face. Suddenly she was relaxed; comfortable at his side. It was more than he deserved, much less than he expected. But he’d take it.

  “Yeah. That was it.”

  Unfortunately, his brain hadn’t gotten the message, and the thoughts he’d had about the name on the front door suddenly exploded into clarity.

  “This company,” he began. “This is their flagship?”

  “It is.”

  He nodded, diplomat again. “They put one of their smaller stores not far from DC. I went with my buddy Max when it opened, and then a few times afterward. It was an awakening.”

  Suddenly she was glowing. “That’s what’s so amazing about it. Central New York is developing in its own way and it’s wonderful to witness. I feel genuinely lucky that following that progress is my job, you know?”

  He wanted to pull her close; wanted to wrap all of her up and take the energy, the excitement inside of him. He wanted to touch her, but it seemed a pale substitute for what he desired most. He settled for answering her. “Yeah.”

  She stared at him; those brown eyes of hers were fixed on him, that knowing gaze. “So…”

  That incomplete sentence, the sudden depth to her voice, her inability to stop staring at her hands; those small signs were how he knew she wanted something more. Something she probably was afraid to articulate even to herself. Let alone to him. He wasn’t going to push her, but he moved a little closer. He knew, he hoped she’d…

  Right there, amidst the smells and the food that made his stomach scream with hunger, she pressed her lips to his. She felt strong; powerful. There was need in that kiss. There was want. He wanted her, too.

  He tasted, and he saw stars. But pulled back at the sound of her stomach. “Food first?”

  The flush in her cheeks made her look delectable. She was everything. But she nodded. “Yes. Let’s eat.”

  Tam was glad it was Adam’s turn to drive; the idea of having to deal with the highway on a full stomach amidst the cloud of desire that was fogging her brain made her sick. She stared out the window, adjusted her skirt then her earrings.

  The worst part was that she wasn’t quite ready to tell him what she was feeling. She hadn’t figured out how to explain the complex mix of guilt, desire, and nerves making their way around the inside of her head.

  Adam twisted the radio dial, changing from their steady diet of country music to a random pop channel. Of course, he landed on a bright and fun song by an Australian singer, who described the crazy mess of convoluted thoughts that had settled inside her head.

  But the singer’s paramour was much more deceitful than Adam had ever been. Taking away the circumstances of their breakup, all Adam had done is hidden his feelings from her. It was a problem. And, yes, he’d gone and shared those secret feelings with the world instead of talking to her. But, she wondered, if maybe she hadn’t been ready to listen to what he was telling her?

  It was possible that she hadn’t been as supportive as she should have been. Maybe he didn’t deserve all the blame she’d shoveled onto him since that night on the red carpet. She’d shoved him into the box of "the Canadian Hockey player" and kept him there, whether it fit him or not. She hadn’t been attracted to him because he was a hockey player, but at the same time, she didn’t want to listen to him when he’d struggled. She’d also made the mistake of assuming whatever decision he’d made about his future was his to make.

  Now she sighed. And as she digested all of those truths, she could tell it wasn’t just the time or distance that had made him seem appealing. He’d actually changed, becoming more settled in his own skin, and with his role in the world. Maybe she had, too? Maybe she’d needed
to mature in order to understand where she’d misstepped so badly before

  “Loonie for your thoughts?”

  She laughed. “Inflation, Klein. Two.”

  “Ouch.” His voice was husky and there was amusement in the part of his gaze she could see. “Sure. I’ll settle for one of those crazy fancy coffees you like.”

  “He who insists on the imported stuff is critiquing my choice of coffee?”

  “Touché. Okay, fine.” He sped up, changed lanes as he laughed. “Now that I’ve paid the putative price, what’s the story? What’s going on?”

  “Thinking. Which you probably guessed.”

  “Well, it was clear you were chewing on something. So?”

  She sighed and sat back in her seat. “You made me think, earlier.”

  He nodded. She wasn’t sure if he was stone-faced because he was driving or because he was waiting for whatever bombshell she was about to drop. “Okay.”

  “I wasn’t the best girlfriend. I put you in a box and I wanted you to stay there. I was…a stupid college student who thought she’d found a star. But you were always a firefly. Bright, but…changing. I didn’t appreciate you the way you deserved.” She paused, searching for the words. “I didn’t listen, and I should have. I wasn’t the person you deserved, I wasn’t the girlfriend you deserve.”

  The sounds of the highway overcame them; she’d run out of words and he wasn’t saying anything. Finally, when she thought she’d go crazy, he spoke.

  “What does this mean, Tam? Are you saying you forgive me, or does this mean you’re asking for my forgiveness? Because, I can’t tell.”

  She swallowed. “Both. Both.”

  “I accept your apology, and I am glad you accept mine. One more question, before we get to Buffalo.”

  “Yes?” She barely recognized the thin, reedy, nervous syllable that left her lips.

  The GPS began spouting directions, dictating where they’d go for the next section of the trip.

  “Table that,” he said as they pulled off the highway.

  She sat against the front seat, a jumble of emotions crashing through her. She was frustrated, relieved, nervous, and grateful. She and Adam were in Buffalo to do work, not each other. And Tam had to remind herself of that for the rest of the trip.

  7

  The lights of downtown Buffalo had heralded them into the city, and Adam began to understand what the point of their trip had been. Upstate New York, Central and Western, to be specific, were no longer just points on a map. Their geography, the hills, the vegetation, the industry; all of it was no longer simply a random collection of names and reasons why a representative in any of the level of state government would vote against a piece of legislation.

  He’d pulled into the hotel she’d reserved. Two rooms. And now he was pacing the floor of his room, staring out the window and waiting for his phone to ring.

  As it did, he noted Sam’s number before fell onto his bed, trying to keep his eyes open. “Hey.”

  “Well, that’s a great way to greet your cousin.”

  He laughed, reaching down to pull a shoe off. “I’m glad my cousin decided to call me amidst his very busy schedule of saving the world, one scene at a time.”

  “Yeah, I gotta live up to my cousin’s reputation of negotiating with the world, one deal at a time. Seriously, dude, what’s up that you wanted me to call immediately?”

  He laughed. “Sam, Sam, Sam. How’s Toby?”

  “Leave my kitten out of this. But she’s fine. Running around, investigating the apartment, making sure that I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

  “Good to know.” He bit his lip. “So. Uh.”

  “Yes?”

  “The girl.”

  “The girl my cousin disavowed on television before burying himself in a hockey tournament in Israel in order to hide from her and the consequences?”

  Adam finished taking off his other shoe before running his hand through his hair. “Yeah, actually. That one. How did you know?”

  “Lucky guess?”

  “Nope.”

  “Because you’ve turned yourself into a monk…not exactly a monk, but you know. You’ve spent way too long atoning for a moment of stupidity when you were still a kid who didn’t know any better. You’re twenty-seven, and you’re hopefully a bit more mature than you were, though who knows. Anyway, you sound like a goddam tortoise, and you said the words ‘the girl’ like you’re telling me the biggest secret in the world. Drop the bombshell, already.”

  Which was fair and why he’d called Sam in the first place. “Speaking of atoning, she’s decided to forgive me and told me why I should forgive her. Which of course I’d like to, you know, because I’m not an idiot, and I…want her back. Do you think I’ll fuck it up again?”

  “Between now and Yom Kippur? Between now and the next Shadow Squad movie, which is seriously kicking my ass, by the way.”

  “You are Mr. Shadow, so don’t give me that shit.”

  “But I can still screw up my lines, make stupid decisions, and even worse bets about my favorite hockey team.”

  “What did you do? Why did you bet against my Toronto Sirens, exactly?”

  “One, because they have the stupidest nickname in all of pro sports.”

  “That’s the dumbest line I’ve ever heard, actually. Come on. Seriously?”

  “Yes. I stand by that comment, noting that of all the things your fair city is known for, the league, or whoever named that team, picked the ‘Sirens’. But more importantly, two, I bet against Boston. Before Semenov got injured.”

  Adam bit his lip. “The travails of being an Empires fan, I guess?”

  “Pretty much. But my bet has been collected upon, and sometime soon, I will be walking around a children’s hospital wearing a jar of baked beans.”

  He laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. 'Fraid not. But there’s a reason.”

  “Aside from Tikkun Olam? Aside from Tzedakah? All around making the world better?”

  “Aside from all of that good stuff, and seeing smiles on the faces of kids that don’t usually get the chance. The reason I do all of this? Because, dear cousin, my friend, my buddy, my pal? I’m human. I make mistakes. I’m going to screw up. But that’s the beauty of it all. There’s always a chance I’m going to fuck up. But only if I take the chance.”

  Adam sighed as he practically collapsed on the bed. “I get it. Okay.”

  “And remember, do not disavow your relationship on television.”

  “Right. I won’t.”

  When his cousin hung up the phone, Adam found just enough energy to get undressed and go to sleep. Tomorrow would be another day and another chance with Tam, or at least he hoped so.

  8

  She hated the fact that Adam looked adorable when his upper lip was covered in wing sauce. She was almost certain she hated it, anyhow.

  They’d had a day for sure. They’d spent it walking around downtown Buffalo, stopping near the harbor and three ships. He’d even signed up to skate in a hockey tournament, though nobody needed him in the end. Undeterred, he’d shrugged, rented a pair of skates and done a quick lap around the indoor arena, marveling at the tribute Buffalo paid to the winners of the NAWHL, the women’s hockey league, trophy.

  “This is an amazing place,” he’d said as they walked around. “I mean. It’s…wow.”

  She nodded and watched him reach for a wing and a napkin, wipe his lip, and breathe in.

  She took refuge in business instead of his unique scent. “It is. Do you know this whole harbor area was basically pulled together out of nothing?”

  He was focused on her, his eyes unmoving, as if he was trying to see beneath her skin…that or pull her in like a tractor beam. They were working, or supposed to be, dammit.

  “Adam, seriously.”

  She probably sounded like an angry schoolteacher, but she achieved the desired effect. He was no longer using x-ray vision, but sitting back, listening. Or at least she ho
ped he was.

  “A bilateral council would be amazing, but it won’t ever work, not at all if Canada, meaning Ontario, focuses on the five boroughs instead of the needs of the whole state. It would be like…” She paused. “Like assuming Ontario began and ended with Toronto. You wouldn’t let that happen, right?”

  “Right.” He swallowed, and there was fear in his eyes for the second time since he arrived in Albany. “Does that mean no?”

  She shook her head. “It means that anybody who’s trying to create some kind of external structure, whether it’s on a national or international level, can’t forget that. We can’t forget those who would be left behind if we cut out the rest of the state. We can’t forget the children…the…”

  She stilled. She couldn’t. She couldn’t let her emotions overwhelm her. She needed to take refuge in statistics. Not focus on her fear about the area’s fledgling industry and what leaving it would do to the school system, or the programs that helped the lower and working-class families. Not to mention what it would to do those who fell below the poverty line.

  “And,” she began again, once she’d gotten control of herself, “I’m not talking about the fakakta morons who decided to give Crosby a one-way ticket to Washington. Crosby said people should leave to get jobs…leave this beautiful, booming place because he’s fakakta and…”

  Suddenly Adam was standing behind her, his arms around her and Tam let herself lose the battle between impartial emotion and the pain she felt every time she thought about what Crosby and his party wanted to do to places like Buffalo, Rochester, and Syracuse. She opened the floodgates and let out the tears. She turned and took shelter in the comfort of his arms, the safety he’d offered. Until she realized she had to say something.

  Not about business, but about him…about them. She’d gone from standoffish, to kissing him, and now she was sobbing all over him. Poor man didn’t even know why. That was a mistake she needed to fix.