Authors: Tracey Livesay
A
RUSH OF
coldness hammered Adam’s midsection. His muscles tightened and his head drew back as Mike’s words echoed in his mind.
I’m already lying to him about how you met, and now I’m part of the lie about your relationship.
Mike lowered his gaze and rocked back on his feet. Chelsea shook her head, her palm covering her lips. No one with his quantifiable intellectual prowess could fail to accept the truth of the situation before him.
He’d been used. Again.
“Your arrival at my house wasn’t coincidence.” It wasn’t a question.
Her beautiful eyes were wide, luminous with the sheen of unshed tears. “Adam, please. I know what it sounds like, but you have to let me explain.”
How had he thought he’d been cold before? His heart pounded in his chest and his body burned.
“You planned this before we’d ever met. What was your endgame?”
“Listen to me—”
He advanced on her. “Did you sell me out? Auction off the HPC blueprints to other companies? Is someone going to come out with a cheaper version before ours gets to the market?”
“No! Of course not. I—”
He grabbed her forearms and shook her. “What did you do, Chelsea? What did you do?”
“Hey,” Mike interrupted. “Let her go—”
Anger swirled within him, fueling him, inoculating him from the hurt and disappointment that would surely overwhelm him. He swung his arm to dislodge Mike’s grip and pivoted to face him, clenched fists raised to strike. “Stay the fuck out of this.”
How had this happened again? What was it about him that attracted unreliable women into his life? First his mother, then Birgitta, and now Chelsea.
“Adam, all I did was get you ready for the presentation, which is exactly what I’d promised you.”
He lifted his hand, as if his flesh could stem the tide of her excuses. Her betrayal threatened to fracture his armor, but he ignored the pain and sought relief in analytics, letting his mind sift through the options and follow each to its logical conclusion. Had he left any of his research lying about for her to examine? Had she ever seen him input his password? What about when his files were unlocked and vulnerable? Did she go through them, email some to his competition?
Her hands trembled as she reached for him. “Listen to me—”
“Why? So you can lie to me again? Pacify me to get a head start on my next invention?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“I’m not interested in anything you say unless you start telling me the truth. You owe me that.”
“You needed to accept my help of your own accord. That was my job.” She dashed away her tears with the back of her hand.
He hated seeing her cry, despised seeing her in pain. What she said made no sense, but he fixated on her last two words. “Your job? You’re in the entertainment industry. What does your job have to do with me?”
She bit her lower lip and he refused to surrender to his instinct to assume that task himself. That had been part of the problem. Her presence had weakened his common sense. There’d been numerous instances where her words hadn’t added up, but he’d ignored his inner mathematician, succumbing to emotion. He waited, knowing he wasn’t going to like what came next.
“I don’t work in entertainment in the way I led you to believe. I work in public relations.”
“You’re in PR?” He hadn’t expected
that
.
“I’m the Executive Managing Director of West Coast Entertainment for Beecher & Stowe Public Relations.”
“Hence the entertainment,” he said, muttering to himself. She’d probably assuaged her guilt by telling herself she’d partially told the truth. “And who gave you ‘me’ as an assignment?”
“I did.”
His head swiveled to Mike, who’d remained standing several feet away, his brow lowered, arms crossed over his chest.
“What?” Now he was really confused.
“I gave her the assignment. She was there because of me.”
“What are you talking about?”
Mike glanced around. “Can we talk about this somewhere private?”
Adam followed the trajectory of Mike’s gaze and for the first time he noticed their melodrama had garnered an audience. Fucking fantastic.
“I
introduced
you
to Chelsea,” he told Mike. “You’d never met her before today.”
“You needed help with your presentation. After the last launch, you were having problems, whether you’d admit it or not. A successful launch was key to a profitable initial rollout of the HPC. So I hired Chelsea’s firm to get you ready for the launch and, as a condition of the job, she couldn’t tell you about my involvement. If you knew what I was doing, you would have thwarted her efforts at every turn.”
Adam felt blindsided. Lied to not only by the woman he was involved with, but his best friend and business partner. Remembered humiliation bubbled in his midsection. This was why he preferred solitude on his mountain. In fact, if he’d turned her away the night of the storm, he wouldn’t be in this situation. He walked away. Not wanting to endure the crowd on the escalators, he headed for the elevators.
Damn his Asperger’s. A normal man would’ve figured it out. A normal man would’ve read their body language, seen the clues, felt . . . something in the air. A normal man wouldn’t have been fooled. Again. He laughed bitterly. What would it take before he accepted he wasn’t normal? Was he or was he not a fucking genius?
“Adam, wait.” Chelsea gave chase and caught up with him. “We’re not finished.”
“There’s nothing else to say.”
She grabbed his elbow. “The hell there’s not.”
He jerked away from her touch. The doors opened and he stepped onto the elevator. She followed, bestowing a fierce glare on the people attempting to enter behind her. They let the doors close without further efforts to board. Adam pressed the button for the lobby.
“You have to listen to me,” she said.
He’d actually accepted he’d live his life alone.
Until her.
“Did I miss something? Didn’t Mike hire you to prepare me for the launch? Have you not been lying to me from the moment we met?”
The anger seeped from her face and she hugged her waist. He was an idiot and should be retested. He knew the truth,
knew
it, yet he needed her to say the words, so there was no confusion.
“Chelsea?”
Her gaze shot to his and she nodded. “Yes.”
It was impossible for the stomach to literally drop, and as the elevator was steady, there were no motions to affect his center of gravity. But that’s what he experienced. He didn’t shy away from it, hoping this time he’d learn his lesson. He let the sensation imprint itself in his mind and on his heart.
He would never go through this again.
“I will explain everything, I promise—”
“You don’t have to explain anything,” he said, studying the control panel, refusing to look at her. “I have the ability to fully comprehend the situation, once my questions are answered. The night of the storm, when you came to my house, you knew who I was?”
She sighed. “Yes.”
“And that meeting was part of your plan? To get in my good graces?”
“It’s the reason I was on the mountain, although I hadn’t anticipated the weather. Mike hired our firm but I was the one who decided how to approach you.”
At least she wasn’t denying it. Which shouldn’t surprise him. She’d always been a straight shooter. Or was she? He didn’t know the real Chelsea.
“Was it part of your brilliant business scheme to sleep with me?”
“It wasn’t like that and you know it. I didn’t plan to sleep with you. I certainly didn’t count on falling in love with you.”
He flinched and shook his head.
“I love you, Adam. That’s why I can’t apologize for taking this assignment. Because if I hadn’t, I’d never have met you. I only wish I hadn’t agreed not to tell you who I was, or that I’d told you earlier.” She paused. “But I didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t,” he said, finally turning to face her. “Why is that?”
Her account was still illogical. He was missing an important fact. Why would she go through all of this for her job? He swallowed, wanting to banish the sour taste that suddenly materialized at the back of his throat. From his memory, their conversation on the mountain popped into his mind. His stomach roiled and he hunched forward, his shoulders curling inward.
“What was your prize upon the successful completion of your mission?”
“What?”
“You aren’t slow, Chelsea. Don’t insult us both by pretending that you are. This,” he said, motioning to the space between them, “is the ethical dilemma you were pondering. The task you had to complete to get your promotion.”
Her hands trembled and she shoved them in the crook of her elbows when she crossed her arms. “This has nothing to do with my partnership—”
“Oh, it’s a partnership. Impressive. So now we know the going rate of betrayal: a new title and a high six-figure salary.”
“I deserve that. But you have to understand, Adam. This job, this partnership, was the most important thing to me. I told you a little about my upbringing, but not all of it.”
“That appears to be a pattern with you.”
Her mouth tightened at the corners, but she continued.
“My mother raised me. I never knew my father. It wasn’t the most normal upbringing. She kept trying to replace him. She’d take her paycheck and run off with her latest boyfriend, leaving me to fend for myself for a week. And when that boyfriend left her, she’d descend into a depression that left no room for taking care of me. Then she’d meet another guy and the cycle would start all over again.”
Despite his anger, he listened, the information giving him an insight into her he’d never had. It explained a lot about her, but it didn’t excuse her behavior.
“When we met in the beginning it didn’t matter; you were just a job. I didn’t know anything about love. My mother said she loved me a thousand times, but her love didn’t pay the rent, put food in my belly, or clothes on my back. Her love for me couldn’t make her show up for meetings at school, it didn’t stop me from being bullied because of her reputation, and it didn’t make her fight to keep me when the state took me away. By the time I recognized that I loved you, it was too late. I was afraid you would hate me.”
“You just told me how important your career is to you and what that promotion would mean. So don’t tell me that keeping the truth from me was about being afraid that I would hate you. What scared you was the possibility that I wouldn’t go through with the presentation and you wouldn’t get your partnership.”
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Two men wearing lanyards and carrying iPads stood waiting. They took one look at them and stepped back.
“We’ll take the next one,” the taller man said, waving them off.
“What about us?” Chelsea asked, when the doors had closed again. “You can’t let this one mistake negate our entire relationship.”
“There wasn’t an us because I don’t know who
you
are.”
“Yes, you do. I never lied about the important things. Think about our moments together. Playing video games, our mountainside hike.” She lowered her voice. “Making love. Those weren’t fake.”
“How can I believe you?”
“Because it’s the truth,” she said, her voice increasing in volume and intensity.
Didn’t she understand? “I thought what you told me before was the truth. How can I trust anything you ever tell me again? I told you how I felt about lying and you smiled in my face and deceived me behind my back.”
“Oh, my God,” she said, clenching her hands into fists. “People aren’t computers, Adam. We’re complex creatures. I’m not saying I didn’t lie to you in the beginning, but things changed. I thought making partner would compensate for my mother and my upbringing, but I was wrong. The partnership means nothing to me if I lose you because of it.”
“Then you did all of it for nothing.”
Tears coursed down her face and fell from her quavering chin. The acid in the back of his throat threatened to choke him.
“We always seem to get stuck on this verbal merry-go-round,” she whispered. “I love you. I will never lie to you again. Doesn’t my word mean anything?”
He considered her. Her vibrant curls, her glassy eyes, her smooth dark skin, her full lips.
“For a time, it was everything.”
When the elevator doors opened again, he stomped out, the sound of her sobs following him. He didn’t care where he was or where he was going. He couldn’t be near her one moment longer. Her presence was a painful reminder of her deception and his disability. Pressure pricked behind his eyelids, emphasizing the tightness in his throat and the hollowness in his chest.
Was this what heartbreak felt like?
I
LOVE YOU.
I will never lie to you again. Doesn’t my word mean anything?
Adam stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room of the presidential suite at the St. Regis Hotel. The sun had yet to set and the surrounding stone, metal, and glass skyscrapers that comprised San Francisco’s cityscape seemed to sparkle from its rays.
He missed his home. If he were standing in his great room, studying his usual vista, he’d see mountains instead of buildings, sky instead of lights, trees instead of people. That’s the lesson he should learn from this ordeal. Life had been better on his mountain, developing new technology without distractions, keeping his own vigil.
He swung from the polished scene and glanced over the large, well-appointed room. Chelsea said she’d reserved it because it boasted a “meticulous decor with timeless elegance,” and it was close to the Moscone Center. He’d agreed the space had seemed perfect when he’d planned to share it with her. But when he’d returned to the suite, he’d discovered her bags gone and any trace of her presence erased. Now the room felt barren. He was alone.
Again.
He glanced at the clock on the wall. He’d missed sound check hours ago. It was for the best. He doubted his ability to concentrate. Their fight was probably the topic of the convention center and he’d dreaded facing all of those people. It was shades of the
People Magazine
debacle all over again.
For the fortieth time he rued his faulty judgment. He’d vowed to never place himself in this situation again and here he was, on the eve of another presentation, pondering deception by a woman.
And not just any woman. Chelsea.
It was quiet. Too quiet. Guess he’d enjoyed having Chelsea around.
The lock on the outer door clicked and his heart revived in his chest, pounding painfully.
Chelsea?
His body had skirted the wooden side table and leather club chair before his brain recalled he didn’t want to see her. Still, he held his breath.
The door swung open and Mike entered, dressed in a dark suit.
Adam’s heart stuttered. Great. “What do you want? I’ve had my fill of liars today.”
“You missed sound check.” Mike shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and shrugged. “I was worried.”
“How did you get in here?”
Mike nodded to the small plastic card emblazoned with the hotel’s insignia that he’d flung onto the console table by the door. “Chelsea gave me her key.”
Hearing the other man utter her name and recalling their hushed voices and guilty expressions fortified Adam’s earlier weakness. His jaw tightened. “I’ll make sure the hotel reprograms the lock.”
“I know you’re upset—”
“You’ve proven your knowledge is inaccurate and unreliable. If you
knew
me, you would know that I find lying an unpardonable sin.”
“I do know you and how you feel. But I did it for your own good.”
“I’m not an infant. I don’t need to be coddled.”
“Don’t you?” Mike slashed a hand through the air. “How many times did I ask you to consider using a PR firm? To let me bring in someone to help you with the presentation?”
“I didn’t need—”
“Yes, you did. And you would’ve known that if you’d stopped being so goddamned stubborn and listened to somebody else for once.” Mike rubbed the back of his neck. “You know, you talk a good game about trust, but in successful relationships, the trust has to flow both ways.”
Nice try. He wasn’t going to let Mike absolve himself of his responsibility for this situation. Adam raised a brow. “I trusted you and you lied to me.”
“This company is important to me, too. I’ve been with you from the beginning, through the highs of our initial success and the lows of Birgitta’s betrayal. I’ve given you my unwavering support. This one time I asked you to trust
my
skills, to have
my
back, and you couldn’t.” Mike straightened and lifted his chin. “I did what was best for Computronix, and if you can’t understand that, then screw you.”
Adam frowned. Mike had been his best friend since college. Making friends had been exceedingly difficult for him, yet Mike was one of the few people who’d seen beyond his idiosyncrasies to the person beneath. Was he willing to throw away their relationship and the business they’d built for this one mistake?
“Come on, Adam, we need to get past this.” Mike splayed his hands wide, palms facing upward. “Do you want to hit me? Will that make you feel better?”
He considered it. A little Pavlovian classical conditioning? Anytime Mike thought about lying to him, he’d recall the feel of Adam’s fist against his jaw.
“This can’t happen again,” he finally said, choosing to forego physical assault.
“I won’t go behind your back. But you have to promise to be more open-minded. To listen to, and consider, ideas that originate from others.”
He hesitated then said, “I can’t promise success, but I’ll make an earnest attempt to try.”
Mike grinned. “Your earnest attempt is better than ninety-nine percent of the world’s.”
“True.” He sighed. “I only wish you could have found some other way that didn’t include Chelsea.”
Mike’s grin disappeared. “I bear some responsibility for the Chelsea situation. As a condition of the contract, I instructed them not to tell you about me. I do believe her when she said she loved you and was planning to tell you everything after the presentation.”
“After she received her promotion.”
“She could’ve handled this better. We all could’ve. But she didn’t get to her position at Beecher & Stowe without hard work, loyalty, and ambition. When she took this assignment, she didn’t know you personally. She only knew that the reward for its successful completion was a partnership.”
“You’re excusing what she did?”
“You don’t have to forgive her right away. Take things slow. Give her a chance to regain your trust. Don’t cut her out of your life entirely, when doing so would make you both miserable.” Mike’s phone dinged and he pulled it from his inner coat pocket. “I’d hate to see you waste two more years of your life, up on your mountain, pushing everyone away.” He checked the display and headed for the door. “I’m late for cocktails before dinner. Do what you need to do to feel better, but I want to see your ass at the Moscone Center tomorrow morning, 10 a.m. sharp.”
His stomach shifted and his pulse raced. He couldn’t go through with the presentation. He’d possessed plenty of confidence earlier, knowing he had Chelsea’s support. But now?
Heading to the bedroom, he stopped just inside the doorway. The king-sized bed, with its plush comforter and mounds of pillows, taunted him. For dinner he’d reserved the private dining room at Quartet and for dessert he’d imagined spending the night before the launch reveling in the sexy heat of Chelsea’s body. Instead, he was facing the real possibility he’d never see her again.
People aren’t computers.
The sting of her words returned. He knew people weren’t computers, but that didn’t stop him from preferring they were. He understood computers. People, especially women, were significantly more difficult. Was it too onerous to expect not to be lied to by the person who proclaimed to love you?
I’d hate to see you waste another two years of your life, up on your mountain, pushing everyone away.
How had Mike known that’d been his initial instinct? Because that’s what he’d done after Birgitta? He’d checked out of life, afraid of being hurt, but what had been hurt more than anything had been his pride. When he’d proposed to her, he’d been polishing his image of a successful life. His business was thriving; a beautiful wife would be a natural garnish.
No one would dare call him a disappointment.
But he’d had no real attachment to Birgitta. They rarely spent time together, she’d never been to his house on the mountain, she didn’t know about his family. He’d shared more of himself with Chelsea in three weeks than he had with Birgitta the entire two years they’d been together. That’s why it’d been easy to let her go. But the idea of living without Chelsea?
That existence seemed untenable.