54ADAM
54 ADAM
Shep: Well????? Don’t leave us hanging man, it’s 8:15! Is she coming?
[Emerson Liked “Well????? Don’t leave us hanging man, it’s 8:15! Is she coming?”]
[Dennis Liked “Well????? Don’t leave us hanging man, it’s 8:15! Is she coming?”]
[Nate Liked “Well????? Don’t leave us hanging man, it’s 8:15! Is she coming?”]
[Matt Liked “Well????? Don’t leave us hanging man, it’s 8:15! Is she coming?”]
Adam: I don’t know.
Matt: Any messages?
Adam: No.
Matt: None?
Adam: None
Shep: Not even a reaction? Thumbs up?
Adam: No
Shep: Well shit! That’s not good!!!
Adam: I know
Shep: Did you give her the right address?
Matt: Shep seriously. Try to be helpful.
Shep: Stranger things have happened!
Emerson: Are you sure the trip was a success?
Adam: I thought so.
Nate: How’d you do with the thesaurus-ing?
Adam: Felt like all I did was talk and yes, I used better words.
Shep: He rehearsed
Emerson: Come again?
Matt: I would also like to know more.
Adam: Thanks Shep. Not a dick move at all to mention that.
Shep: Listen, Cap, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.
Shep: Were you or were you not a Grade A Moron?
Adam: I was.
Shep: You were. Thus, the next-level groveling and gesturing is required.
Shep: He called me and talked through some of his most important points like a grown up
Adam: A mistake I won’t make again
Nate: Good for you.
Dennis: I agree.
Matt: Feel free to call anyone other than Shep in the future, though
Shep: [middle finger emoji]
Emerson: She’s worth it, as insufferable as Shep may be. But was it effective? Was she moved by it?
Adam: I thought so, she let me go home for dinner, and she kissed me last night, I wasn’t going to kiss her but she took over
Shep: Did you talk during sexy time like I suggested
Matt: Shep do we need to talk again about inside thoughts that we don’t need to share with the class?
Shep: QUICK POLL, WHICH ONE OF US IS MARRIED TO A ROMANCE NOVELIST WITH HER FINGER ON THE PULSE OF WHAT WOMEN EVERYWHERE WANT IN A FANTASY MAN?!
Nate: He’s not wrong.
Shep: THAT’S RIGHT. ME! FU, MATTHEW!
Emerson: Point made. You can stop shouting.
Adam: I am not talking about sex with you guys
Matt: I wouldn’t talk sex with someone who calls it “sexy time” either
Shep: That answer means yes, you did talk dirty. Which also means you got some action on your trip. She’s going to show.
Shep: She loves you, man.
Emerson: I agree
Matt: I wish I could agree but no messages is a bad sign…
Adam: Damn it
Nate: She’ll show. And when she sees everything this morning it’ll be a done deal.
Dennis: I agree about that. Just show her what you showed us. Tell her everything, hold nothing back, and I think you have a real shot, mate
Adam: And if she doesn’t show?
Adam: I mean I basically told her if she doesn’t show I’d let her go
Shep: Well that was dumb
Nate: If she doesn’t show you come up with a new game plan
Emerson: Even if he told her he’d let her go?
Shep: She doesn’t want him to let her go!
Shep: This is Susan and Adam we’re talking about. She wants romance. She wants you to fight
Dennis: Unbelievably, I agree with Shep.
Shep: Quit trying to be my friend, DeLane.
Shep: She’s going to show.
Emerson: I think so too.
Nate: If she doesn’t, we’ll help you regroup, start over again.
Adam: OK
Shep: Yep and you have a few more minutes you can call me to practice if you want
[Adam has muted the conversation]
I fight a wave of nausea as I pocket my phone and look out the glass door. Then I pull it right back out to check the time again. 8:20. Damn it. This is not looking g—
Wait.
Wait, that’s her.
Thank you, God!
My body is moving outside before my brain can catch up.
“Hey,” I smile at her as she climbs out.
She frowns at the unmarked building, squinting in the sun. “This little building is what you wanted to show me?”
“Inside,” I say, fighting the urge to hug her hello. She looks so pretty in the light, her blonde hair blowing in the breeze, that my breath catches. “You look g—” Not great. Ummmm… “Lovely! You look lovely!”
Don’t yell at her, idiot!
She looks at me, frown still firmly in place. “Th-thank you. But I didn’t move my meeting.”
I hold back a smirk, she’s here, but still fighting. I’ll take it.
“You didn’t?” I say.
“No. I figured he stood me up, I can be late. So you’ve got about five minutes.”
“I’ll take it.” I take a step back, leading her toward the door. I swallow hard. My hand is shaking like crazy as I reach for the big vertical door handle and I hope she doesn’t notice.
“So what is it you—” she stops in her tracks right inside the door. Her mouth falls open. I’m not sure what I was expecting at this moment, but I’m glad most of the message is obvious.
I’ve been busy, just not running Bell International.
“What…these...Adam?” Her bright eyes bounce around the room.
There are huge, thick pieces of wood all lined up on one side of the space, then my shop area with a ton of tools, pieces in progress, and usually saw dust and scraps, which I cleaned meticulously two nights ago. This is the first time in months I’ve been able to see the polished cement floor there.
Lastly, there’s the showroom section. Dining tables, benches, side tables, chairs, even a crib. And the photo backdrop corner where I take pictures of the finished stuff.
I pull on the back of my neck and decide to rip the bandaid off.
“I left B.I. Susan.” Her eyes go wide as they land squarely on me. “I’m still on the board, but I resigned as CEO months ago.”
She starts shaking her head, “No, how?”
“I’ve been training my replacement for almost a year, made a deal with the board to keep everything under wraps. Of course, they don’t want it public that a Bell is leaving but it’ll go public eventually.” She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. Her eyes still travel around the room like she can’t decide what to look at. I hope that’s good. “Tom actually likes the company, the work. He’s going to take the position in a few years. So there will still be a Bell involved. But I…I got out.”
“But what…I mean, is this…” She gestures around and I think she’s trying to not ask if I threw my life’s work away for a hobby.
“That woman you saw me with?” Her features change immediately. I almost smile as her scowl sets in. She’s jealous. Damn, I love that. “I haven’t dated anyone.”
Her eyes narrow, so I explain, “You thought I was out dating to find myself or happiness or whatever? No. I don’t want anyone else. This is how I got happy again.” I gesture around the room. “This and slowing down, seeing the boys more. Seeing you more. That day at the cafe, that was Harper, a girl I hired to run my Instagram account.”
“Your Instagram account?” she squeaks, shocked because I’ve never liked or wanted or had any social media, not even a LinkedIn.
“Yes. And she’s a genius at it. But you saw me laughing because she was calling me old and basically making fun of pretty much everything about me.” I look away from Susan’s big blue eyes. “You’d like her.”
“So, wait, what is all this?” Then as she asks the question, she sees it. A little dining table set that she’s seen before. I hold my breath and watch, praying this goes the way I want it to. She walks over to it slowly.
My pieces are rustic but polished, you can see knots and imperfections, but there’s mastery too, details. Harper calls it Modern Log Cabin Chic and that fits, since it’s upscale lodges and wealthy log cabin owners that buy my stuff.
I inhale a shaky breath as I watch the love of my life run her fingers along the surface I carved with my hands. And I wait.
“This table…” she starts, sounding confused. Maybe she doesn’t remember? Maybe she’s not sure?
Here goes nothing.
I clear my throat but my voice is still scratchy and quiet. “I never said I was a chef.” Her chin snaps up. I go on, “I said it was a small business, I never said it was a food truck.”
“Food…you…you… you!”
I step toward her, “Yes, me.”