Chapter 12
W hen I entered the spa area, Adam was already in the pool, standing in a corner with his back against the tiled surface, the water only reaching his waist. He’d somehow managed to talk me into going for a swim with him after we got back to the hotel. But I was still hesitant – I’d packed my Baywatch-babe-wear for a swim with David, not Adam.
Only a couple of other guests were swimming at the other end, but they left shortly after I arrived. There was no lifeguard on duty, but I doubted we needed one in the shallow water.
I hung up the towel the spa receptionist had given me, then sat on the edge of the pool and slowly lowered myself into it next to Adam.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, I just didn’t expect the water to be this warm. I wonder how much it costs to heat all this—’
‘Evelyn, please stop.’
His firm voice felt like a slap in the face. This was the first time I felt ashamed about my mind being preoccupied with numbers. My life was centred on financial figures and data, and apart from my sister and father, no one had ever made me feel bad about that. It wasn’t just Adam’s sharp words but something in his tired look that suggested such obsession wasn’t right.
‘Sorry. I’ll go and do some laps,’ I said quickly.
I swam from one end to the other a few times, but Adam didn’t move. I could feel his eyes on me though. It still bothered me how he’d reacted a few minutes ago. It bugged me even more that I had no idea why I still felt like I’d done something wrong .
‘Finished already?’ he asked when I returned a minute later.
‘Yeah, my arm still isn’t a hundred per cent, and now my back has started to ache too,’ I told him, rolling my shoulders and stretching my arms.
Adam looked at me with concern. ‘You should get it checked out.’
‘It’s much better than it was, but I just keep overdoing it with exercise.’
‘I think your body is trying to tell you something. Maybe you need to stay away from the gym for a while.’
It annoyed me that he was probably right. Also, it reminded me that I hadn’t seen him in the gym lately, yet his biceps were only getting bigger. He must have gone on the days I wasn’t there, or he might have opted for a different gym to avoid me. I decided not to ask about his new workout schedule – he’d only think I was missing him.
‘Which shoulder?’
When I told him it was the left one, he asked me to turn around.
‘Trust me,’ he said in a soothing voice when I still didn’t move.
I gave in with a long sigh.
He pushed my wet hair to one side and gently started rubbing the top of my bad shoulder. Then he slowly moved his hands towards my neck and down towards my shoulder blade. His strong fingers worked my back expertly, kneading, rolling, stretching, and squishing the flesh. I felt like a piece of dough moulded to perfection in his hands.
His touch was warming me up from the inside, and I let out some soft moans to encourage him to carry on. Realising how inappropriate they must have sounded, I bit my lower lip painfully to avoid letting out any more.
This was the first time since I’d known him that he was quiet without me needing to ask him, but the silence started to unnerve me.
‘You are indeed a man of multiple talents,’ I said kindly. Perhaps I’d been wrong about him, and he wasn’t such a jerk .
‘See?’ Even from that one word, I could tell he was smiling. ‘Is it good?’
‘Yeah. Right there.’
His fingers circled the most sensitive area on my back, but he carefully avoided applying pressure where it might hurt. Then one hand wandered to the tip of my aching shoulder and slowly down my arm while he pressed my neck lightly with the other.
‘Where did you learn this? Don’t tell me from your nan,’ I teased with a little girly giggle – the alcohol had indeed got to me.
‘No,’ he said, suppressing a chuckle. ‘After A levels, I did a sports massage course. But my father didn’t consider that a great career, so I went on to do a construction course.’
‘How much does a sports massage therapist earn?’
‘Not as much as a site manager.’
Only when he answered calmly did I realise my question could have easily misfired as I’d already upset him once by talking about money in the pool. Once again, I blamed my thoughtlessness on the alcohol he’d made me consume. So, technically, it would have been his fault.
When the silence was about to settle in again, I said, ‘I’m sorry about your dad.’
‘I’m sorry about yours. I can’t believe you’re not good enough for him. I can’t believe you wouldn’t be good enough for anyone.’
I could detect anger in his voice. It felt strange that he sounded so protective of me and as upset with my father as I was. After all, Adam and I barely knew each other… Or did I reveal more about my family to him than I should have?
‘What did I tell you about my sister?’ I asked cautiously.
‘That she was the apple of his eye.’
‘Was that it?’
‘Pretty much.’
‘Did I tell you that we’re twins?’
His hands stopped on my back. ‘You mean there’s another gorgeous human being just like you out there?’ The shock was evident in his voice .
‘Not quite… We’re fraternal twins. Isabel is a couple of inches shorter but with a prettier face. You know, freakishly big puppy-dog eyes, like a blonde Mila Kunis, and she’s always had a better body than mine…’ She did have to work harder on it though.
‘That can’t be true.’
I smiled at his comment but continued, ‘She’s three minutes younger than me, and she’s always been the baby of the family. The favourite. She can do no wrong. She’s married to a handsome man my father adores because the guy has a well-paid, stable job as a lawyer and comes from a good family. And they have a beautiful big house just outside the city with a beautiful baby girl in it—’
‘Is she as successful as you?’ he asked as his hands started exploring my back again.
‘Define successful.’
‘You know, workwise.’
‘She has a job…’ I started. ‘She is or was a PA to a well-known businesswoman, but Isabel’s on maternity leave now with baby number one, waiting to pop with baby number two. She’s not planning to go back to work but to use up all her holiday allowance until she can go on maternity leave again.’
‘So workwise, she’s nothing compared to you.’
‘I wouldn’t put it like that… You see, I always thought if I worked hard enough and became a manager at something by the time I was thirty, my father would be proud of me and finally appreciate me, but nothing has changed,’ I said, then the realisation hit me: I was pouring out my heart to him, an almost stranger, sharing things I’d never told anyone. ‘Just shut your ears, please, and ignore what I told you. I’m too tired and shouldn’t have been drinking.’
‘I’m sure he loves you… in his own way. Maybe he just feels intimidated by your success. Some men can’t cope with a woman like that; it emasculates them.’
‘Are you saying that by trying so hard to prove myself to him, I’ve just pushed him further away?’ I’d thought only couples had issues with power dynamics, not fathers and daughters, but knowing Dad, it sounded plausible now I considered it.
‘I may be wrong. I haven’t met your father,’ he said then burst into laughter.
‘What’s so funny?’ I asked. We were in the middle of a serious conversation, yet he managed to find something amusing about it? Typical Adam .
‘I was just thinking about what the others call you in the office – your dad has no clue about you, does he?’
‘What do they call me?’ I asked with a bad feeling.
He inhaled deeply before whispering, ‘The Wicked Witch of the East.’ His breath lingered and felt warm on my neck.
‘Is that really what they call me?’ I didn’t think that was something I should boast about to my father. I was convinced Adam was just messing again.
‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘It’s not the East but the West.’
‘Great.’
‘Oh, come on – it’s not that bad; could be worse.’
‘Really? Like what?’
He was silent for a minute. ‘Okay, fine. You’re right, it’s bad,’ he admitted. ‘But it just shows how much they respect you.’
‘In the bar, you said they were all scared of me,’ I reminded him.
‘You take work too seriously.’
‘I like my work. And work should be taken seriously.’
‘There’s a difference between liking and living for your job,’ he noted.
‘I don’t live for my job.’
‘You’re the first one in and the last one out, and you don’t seem to have much of a social life.’
Unfortunately, that was all true.
‘Am I really that bad?’ I asked.
‘I can’t say for sure – because we don’t work together much – but as I hear it, Ricky was an hour late for his own bachelor party because he was working on a final account for a subbie, and you told him you needed it done by the following morning.’
Unable to recall a wedding ring on my surveyor, I casually asked, ‘Ricardo is married?’
‘Why do you think he was off for three weeks in March?’
‘I can’t remember authorising that.’
‘You didn’t,’ replied Adam. ‘He went to Elsa about it.’
Fabulous . My staff had been seeking approval from my supervisor instead of me. I wondered what she thought of this.
‘But you do remember him being off for three weeks?’
I remembered Ricardo hadn’t got much work done last month, but all I said was, ‘I don’t catch up in person with my team daily. They’re out on site a lot.’
‘Maybe that’s the problem,’ he said quietly. ‘You and David are sitting in your cosy office all day, not knowing what’s happening around you. No man should be an island.’
I thought for a second. Adam may have had a point.
‘What are you suggesting then, Watson?’
‘Perhaps a bit more engagement with your team. You have four people under you. Do you even know their names?’ he asked.
‘Of course I know their names! Don’t patronise me.’
‘Sorry.’
Too tired to get upset, I told him a minute later, ‘I’ll have a think about what you said.’
‘Thanks, Wicked Witch of the West.’
The conversation halted for a few minutes until I broke the awkward silence again.
‘Are you intimidated by successful women?’
I could sense my question surprised him as he didn’t rush to reply.
‘Honestly, I think a good-looking woman who’s smart and successful can be incredibly sexy.’
Although his words sounded carefully chosen rather than flirty, I noticed his hands weren’t rubbing my back anymore, but his palms were brushing the skin softly up and down my spine, warming up the area between my neck and waist .
Then another part of my body started to feel hot and tingly. But before the sensation could overwhelm me, I stepped forward, breaking away from his touch, and turned to face him.
‘Thanks. It feels much better now.’
Holding my gaze, he replied, ‘Anytime.’
‘I think we should get out now; the pool must be closing soon. Are you coming?’ I asked, glancing at his bulging swim shorts in the water. The sauna and the steam rooms had shut before we arrived.
Noticing my quick eye movement, he too looked down at his crotch and said, ‘I think I’ll stay and do a couple of laps before I get out.’
*
Adam caught up with me at the lift again. While going up, we didn’t even look at each other, but I could feel the tension rising in the air. I kept telling myself he wasn’t David, but my body didn’t seem to care. The ride only lasted a few seconds, but it felt like the longest journey of my life.
When we arrived at the top floor, I exited the lift, but he stayed behind and pressed the ground-floor button. ‘I almost forgot something,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’
After changing into my silk pyjamas, I lay on the duvet, waiting for him to return. I wondered if he’d gone to get some extra protection, thinking he might get lucky tonight, so we wouldn’t have to talk about babies again – I was sure I’d seen a Tesco Extra around the corner – but he didn’t need to worry about that. I’d started carrying such an additional safety device again after the almost-baby incident in February. Not that I expected another drunken night like Cardiff to happen, but it had me realise some things couldn’t always be scheduled.
Long minutes passed, and with my core on fire, I was close to giving in to the urge to offer myself to him should he ever return.
I’d just turned on the TV to distract myself when there was a knock on the door. It was Adam holding up a keycard .
I frowned. ‘Why are you knocking if you have a key?’
‘This is to a different room,’ he said, brushing past me. ‘When I asked about the pool opening times, the receptionist told me they had rooms available now – the Ed Sheeran fans must have gone home.’
I could only manage an ‘oh’ as he threw his backpack on the bed and started to cram his things into it.
‘Now you can have your own room. I’ll be out of your hair in a sec.’ His hands paused, and he looked at me. ‘This is what you wanted, right?’
‘Yes, sure,’ I replied absently, dropping my head. I didn’t want him to see my disappointment.
He quickly packed his suit too, said goodnight, and left.