Chapter 34
E xploring Adam’s house feels like navigating a maze.
Every room has a purpose, right down to a cigar lounge.
The sheer size of the place overwhelms me.
When I stumble upon the outdoor Olympic-sized pool, I want to go for a swim.
It’s been too long since I swam laps, so I head back to his bedroom to change.
Swimming was my escape in high school, a way to forget the chaos at home.
Swimming lap after lap, I feel that old sense of freedom and strength return.
I wish there were a clock to time myself, curious how much slower I’ve become.
But as I rest on the edge of the pool, I remember how long it’s been.
My body feels like a limp noodle, completely worn out.
There are three plush towels stacked next to the ladder.
Cecilia must’ve left them for me. Life with Adam sinks in deeper.
It’s so perfect, it continues to feel unreal.
Part of me is scared to get too comfortable, afraid it could all be taken away.
My childhood and Sorin trauma are looking for cracks, waiting for something to go wrong.
He punched Sorin. It’s something I haven’t forgotten about.
Sorin deserves more punches in the face, but that was an overreaction on Adam’s part.
Adam’s worked with the mafia. I need to know more about that.
But he’s a good guy. Everything else about him proves that.
Still, I don’t want to get used to this life.
I don’t want it to be taken away from me.
I wonder if Adam swims. We’ve never talked about it. There’s so much we haven’t talked about. We’re rushing to play house, and I barely know him. I need to be more cautious. I need to stop diving straight into the deep end.
Climbing out of the pool, I see my phone flashing—an unknown number is calling, and I have a new text.
Unknown Number
This is Allison, Adam’s assistant. I need you to call me.
I dial her number, and she picks up after one ring.
“Dani, hi. Sorry to bother you, but we have a little situation.” She sighs. “Are you at Adam’s right now?”
“Yeah.”
“I think you should leave the house for a little bit.”
“Ah … I just got out of the pool,” I hesitantly say.
“I see. This is awkward, and I hate to put you in this position, but Adam is in ‘do not disturb’ mode right now.” I hear she sigh. “Wendy’s coming by to grab something.”
Wendy. His ex-wife!
“Now?”
“It’s a whole fucking thing. Sorry to swear,” she says, speaking quickly. “She needs to pick up an end table.”
“Right now?”
“I don’t know how much you know about their divorce, but furniture is a very sore subject.”
I only know what Adam said and from the news, but I’ve never heard anything about furniture.
“If I were you, I’d go get a blowout or something before your reservation at One.”
“One!” I say, shocked and excited. I haven’t heard from Adam since he left for the office this morning, and now we have a dinner reservation at the fanciest restaurant in Chicago.
“He didn’t tell you?” Allison sounds annoyed. “I swear he’s been in back-to-back meetings all day. I’m sorry to be the messenger here.”
“When will she be arriving?”
“Now. She’s in her car outside.”
Now? “Can’t Cecilia leave it outside?”
“If only,” Allison says. “I already called Cecilia, but she’s at the grocery store. I know this is a terrible thing to ask, but could you unlock the front door?”
I don’t respond. I don’t know what I should do.
“Wendy will grab it and go. I promise she won’t linger,” Allison says after a long pause.
“I guess,” I say hesitantly.
“I owe you. Make sure Adam knows he owes you too. I’ll text her that she can come in … in ten minutes?”
“Sure. Okay.”
Flustered, I run to the room and change into a simple athleisure look. Then, I make my way downstairs. I’d rather not be here when she’s here. There’s got to be a coffee shop nearby. I’ll walk down the street. Enjoy a coffee there and then come back.
I open the front door only to come face-to-face with an attractive, short woman who’s likely in her forties. Wendy. Everything about her is rich bitch. She’s wearing long white shorts and a tan cowl-neck tank top and has paired it with a white Birkin bag.
She laughs, basically cackling upon seeing me. “That didn’t take him long.” She scoffs. “You’re so young,” she says after a moment of eyeing me up and down.
This is some drama I do not need. I say nothing and turn around, walking back into the house and toward the pool. A few steps later, she says, “He’ll grow tired of you, trust me.”
Her taunting words hit a nerve, and before I could stop myself, I yell back, “Bitch, you don’t know me!”
She smiles like she’s almost impressed. “You’ve got more backbone than I did when I was your age; I’ll give you that.”
“Grab your stupid furniture and leave already.”
“After he takes away your career and your freedom, you’ll understand why I’m so attached to my antiques.”
This is drama well above the fuckbuddy pay grade.
As I wait for her to leave outside, my mind races with questions and doubts.
I feel so guilty about my impulsive reaction.
I’m sure seeing me, someone so much younger than her, was triggering because of their fertility issues.
Her warnings about Adam, though, play and replay in my mind. What am I really getting into with him?