Chapter 23
Chapter
One minute I’m hugging Dan, and the next Theo is handing me a glass of champagne.
A few other people whom I don’t know, although I’m sure someone introduced me in the middle of the chaos, tell me congratulations.
The room is spinning, and between the band’s playing, the alcohol, and the chatter in front of me, details become foggy.
Theo and Dan are staring like they’re waiting for an answer, and I shake my head and squint.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
“We’re aiming for rehearsals to start in November,” Dan says. “So that should give you plenty of time to relocate.”
“Relocate,” I repeat.
Everything is suddenly feeling all too real.
The show will run for at least nine to twelve months, and unless you’re someone like Philip Summers, productions rarely have the budget to put up their principal characters in any housing.
This is something that’s crossed my mind often the past two weeks, but it’s now official. I’m really moving back to New York.
“We can talk about all these details next week.” Theo waves her hand. “Now go celebrate! If I don’t see you, let’s do a call Monday morning.” She pulls me in for another hug and whispers in my ear, “Congratu-fucking-lations!”
Dan holds his glass up and gives me a cheer. “We’re so excited, June. We cannot wait to get the ball rolling!”
The room continues to spin, and I feel like I’m on a high.
Theo’s voice rings in my ears, we can talk about all these details next week, but I don’t want to think about any logistics, what comes next, or where we go from here.
In this moment, I’m proud of myself, I’m ecstatic, I’m processing that this is actually happening, and there’s only one person I want to celebrate with.
I hurry through the crowd, looking every which way, and finally, I see him. Adam’s facing me, but chatting with another man and woman. Seriously, how does this guy know everyone?
Placing my drink on the closest table, I wave for him to come over. A smile forms on Adam’s face, but he’s locked in conversation, trying his best not to be rude.
My eyes widen to try and relay the urgency, and he looks at me with confusion, but slight amusement. I’m motioning at him, mouthing COME HERE, but he just cocks his head to the side, and now I know he’s messing withme.
I mouth I’m going to kill you! and that’s when he finally says something to the couple and walks towardme.
“I was really wondering how far you were going to go there—” he says, but I shut him up with a kiss.
Something I’ve wanted to do all night. He’s caught off guard for a fraction of a second before his hands are on my waist, his fingertips grazing the bare skin on my back.
When I pull away, he rubs his lips together.
“If I knew this was what you wanted, I wouldn’t have kept you waiting. ”
“Do you want to get out of here?” I ask desperately.
No need to ask Adam twice, because he already has his hand in mine, leading me back toward the lobby. As we’re halfway there, the music stops and a spotlight flashes on a middle-aged woman in front of the band.
“Shit.” Adam stops, and we both turn to look, along with hundreds of other people in the room.
“Hello, everyone,” the woman says into a microphone.
“My name is Lesley Foster, and I want to thank you all for coming to the thirty-seventh annual Manhattan for Theater Gala.” The audience begins to applaud, and Adam and I follow suit.
“Manhattan for Theater is the philanthropic heart of Broadway. We believe in the transformative power of the arts as an agent in bringing significant change in the lives of youth. Your support provides a transformative and inclusive community that inspires young lives through the performing arts.” She holds a hand to her heart and a projector slide begins to descend from the ceiling.
“And before we get into our special performances, we’ll be starting off with our live auction. ”
“Do we need to stay for this?” I lift my head up and whisper to Adam, who’s directly behindme.
“We can’t leave in the middle of a charity auction,” he says, more like he’s telling himself.
Well, I’m clearly a selfish asshole.
“You’re right…” I’ve waited eleven years, for crying out loud. Surely another hour won’t killme.
A middle-aged man steps into the spotlight next to Lesley and takes the microphone from her.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he announces, sounding like a game show host. “My name is Mitch Alderton and it’s my pleasure to be your auctioneer tonight for Manhattan for Theater.
If you look on your tables, everyone will have paddles with numbers.
Simply raise your paddle if you’d like to bid and the incredible team at MFT will be doing the rest.”
He takes a step to the side and looks up at the screen behind him, which flashes an image of the New York Knicks.
“All right, first up we have four VIP full-season ticket memberships. Don’t miss a single game at the Garden during the upcoming season.
It includes three preseason and forty-one regular-season games.
” Within a second, he switches into full-blown auctioneer mode and I can barely understand a word coming out of his mouth.
“Bidding starts at ten thousand dollars—” Someone raises their paddle.
“We have a ten-thousand-dollar bid, now eleven thousand, we have eleven, will ya give me twelve—” More paddles start going up.
“Thirteen thousand, okay, we have thirteen, will ya give me fourteen? Fourteen thous—”
Not only do the man’s words become a jumble, but also I can’t even fathom the idea of spending this much money on anything, and when I look up at Adam he’s paying close attention to the auction.
His eyes are scanning each paddle and of course it’s turning me on.
Of course he’s invested in this, because he’s a capable adult man who cares about the future of our youth in the performing arts.
“Next, we have a Cabo getaway! Dramatic landscapes and tropical coastline await you and three guests with a four-night stay in one of three stylish apartments.” The auctioneer continues, “Indulge in sun-kissed Cabo San Lucas with a stay in a contemporary, ocean-view apartment minutes from the beach. Biddings starts at twelve thousand dollars—we have twelve, will ya give me thirteen? Okay, we have thirteen—”
The photo on the screen is a sun-soaked shoreline with golden sand and a breathtaking view of the ocean. My mind wanders to an image of Adam on the beach, tanned, wet, and that V protruding above the hem of his swimming trunks.
I take half a step back, subtly pressing my ass into him.
“June,” he warns, a firm grasp on my arm.
I lean my head back slightly so it’s resting against his chest. “What?” I ask innocently.
“You’re killing me.” His voice comes out low, lower than usual, which makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
My body shifts and he places his hand on my hip, close to where I desperately want him to be touching.
If he’s trying to tease me, it’s working.
My body presses a little closer and his grip tightens.
I swear I hear him grunt. “Fuck it.” He takes my hand and starts walking.
“Wait, really?” I whisper-shout. “We’re leaving?”
“I’ll write them a check,” he says.
“Won’t that be a lot?” Considering how much these auction items are going for, I’m wondering if that’s the best idea.
He turns back to me, still walking. “I mean, we do own a six-million-dollar house.”
We step outside the Plaza, behind the red velvet ropes.
The streets are adorned with shimmering lights, and I’m reminded just how spectacular Manhattan is at night.
Adam hails the first cab he sees, and we slide into the backseat.
There’s not a lot of space, but once we settle in, I wish we were closer.
“Hey, man, how’s it going?” Adam says to the driver. “West Village, please, 74 Perry Street.”
“You got it, boss.” He taps the address on his phone and starts driving.
As I cross my legs, part of my dress falls to the side thanks to the dangerously high slit, revealing my exposed thigh.
Of course I’m aware of how it looks, but I don’t bother to cover myself up.
This new territory is exciting, and I’m liking how confident Adam makes me feel.
Adam’s eyes cut to my skin and then he rolls his head to look out the window while he reaches his arm over me and places his hand on my lap.
Instinctively, I uncross my legs to allow him better access, assuring that nothing is exposed that shouldn’t be.
While his hand inches closer and closer to my panties, the feeling of his fingers on my skin causes me to bite my lip.
Subtly, his middle finger swipes the damp part of my underwear, and it makes me whimper.
Thankfully I’m drowned out by the music.
Adam just smiles to himself and moves his hand back up to my leg and keeps it there the rest of the ride.
When we finally get back home, I throw my clutch onto the side table while Adam locks the door behindus.
“That felt like the longest car ride in the history of car rides,” I say and walk to the middle of the living room. “Was that just me?”
Adam doesn’t say a word and just walks toward me, his eyes hungry. But he stops at the arch between the foyer and the living room and leans against the opening with his hands in his pockets.
“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” he asks.
There’s that blushing that I clearly can’t control. “If I recall correctly, there was a lack of words.”
He lets a laugh out under his breath. “Not just tonight. June, please tell me I’ve told you that.”