5. Adelaide
FIVE
ADELAIDE
Moonshine wasn’t what I expected.
Despite the modern, sleek aesthetic, it was warm and comforting.
Large windows bracketed the outer walls, and the sun hid in every corner of the place. Green vines hung around each shiny chandelier, giving the place a much-needed natural vibe. I’d known for a while how popular Moonshine was, but I never knew it was like this .
Daniel Hayes—Christian’s father—-kept the restaurant under wraps when he was in charge. Only VIP personnel were welcomed through private invites. That changed when Osama— or well, Christian —became CEO.
Osama’s shoulder-length hair remained uncut. His brown clean-shaven face, structured features, the scar right below his right eye, and his gaze changed. The fun, carefree eyes were taken over by a secret—something dark and mysterious. Despite his demeanour and his easy laughter, it was there. Lingering.
Hopefully my plan didn’t sound as disoriented as I felt.
The goal was for him to agree on working with Starlight as temporary partners, where we’d provide them with spices from all over the world. If that worked out, Starlight would fund Moonshine’s own brand of spices that’d be distributed worldwide for everyone to get a taste of the famous restaurant.
Umaima and Hasan gave me the go-ahead, but that didn’t stop solicitude from approaching the soon-to-be-cracked caterpillar eggs in my stomach.
Listening well and giving me his attention, Osama remained respectful. He tapped his finger on the mahogany table. Babbling further wasn’t going to help my situation since I knew why he didn’t respond to Starlight’s plan.
He had to discuss it with him first.
Nervousness descended in the pit of my stomach, brushing against the flutters of anxiety. “You can discuss it with whoever you need to and email me when you have a decision.”
I pushed my chair back with a writhing smile.
“It’s a good thing the one in charge is here.”
His voice brushed up against me and smelled too much like the past, annihilating my sense of being. A plunder of emotions and the expression on Osama’s face chilled my bones. Laser focusing on the random pot of plants lined against the bar—that desperately needed to be watered—brought much comfort to the treacherous havoc erupting in my heart.
I’ll never be ready to see him, but now is really not the right time.
Seven years since I last saw him. Seven years since the breakup that tore me apart.
I always thought we’d meet in passing. On the streets, I’d be moving fast because I was busy. My hair would be down in waves or curls, instead of its original straight. He’d see me and trip over his feet like the sight of me stumped him. I’d simply smile, wiggle my fingers in a quick hello, then be on my way. Sure, for a moment my heart would hammer no screw in particular, but I wouldn’t care. I’d simply walk away unaffected .
My imagination oversaw that this was my first love.
Everyone knew first loves were immortal.
What did he look like? Was he still the small, lanky boy I knew? Or was he different? He smelled different. Good . Incredible.
All masculine, musky, and clean.
Christian Hayes felt like a man I didn’t know.
The initial shock forced me down on the chair with a hypnotized look.
Inhale. One… Two… Three…
“You don’t mean that.”
Four… Five…
“Of course, I mean it.”
Six…
“You want to break up?”
Seven…
“I’ve wanted to break up for a long time.”
Eight. Exhale.
At my hip were sharded pieces of the past. The skin grew around the cuts, closing off the shallow parts, but never addressing the hollow blade wounding me. I’d never heal until I pulled out the remaining analepsis—I always had an issue with blood. Refusing to extract it seemed like the better option.
Until now.
I cleared my throat from the disrespectful jittering heartbeat. “Mr. Hayes,” confidence hesitated in the quiver of my lips. There was responsibility resting on my shoulders and people’s whispers dripping like heavy raindrops in my mind. Flooded , if I didn’t quickly disentangle the situation. As much as I'd love to leave, I couldn’t.
My left brow shuddered.
“You okay?” Osama’s concern came out in a whisper and a weak smile. I flushed with humiliation, somehow nodding.
Christian toed closer. His scent amplified.
“You can call me by my first name, Adelaide.” Sandalwood . Damn, he smelled divine.
Down girl.
My teeth grinded together. How could I find anything about this man attractive? Any person who disrespected my dignity could never be attractive. Christian Hayes was my irritating creaky door. Despite oiling it, every so often it returned in the middle of the night as a horrendous reminder. Why not replace it? One may ask. Well, one could replace it if they weren’t busy figuring out ways to move on. Instead, I dealt with it because adulthood was about compromise.
Except—figuratively speaking—-if he was in the ocean, drowning with piranhas swimming around him, then I would gladly let his blood coat the water. In fact, I’d drink the blood-coated water and want it to course through my veins so that his final screams stuck to every corner of my organs.
“We’re not on a level of cordial-ship to be calling each other by our first names,” words formed themselves into snippy, petty letters—pouring out of my lips. I retracted back, taking in the speech with me. “I’m also in a meeting with Mr. Taimoor right now.”
Other people would have taken that as a dismissal.
Husky, deep, and dark. Christian simply laughed.
A pulsation against my stubborn core clenched from his laugh like it could remember the feeling being rubbed against my most sensitive part. I didn’t like it. Not one bit.
Christian tasted me once with his less than satisfactory tongue. If he wanted another bite, he’d do it for the sake of torturing me—putting on a performance of licking away my fears before throwing me to the wolves.
But honestly, I’d rather be with wolves than this lion.
Pique rested on the roots of my hair and wandered down each strand, tying itself to the end and ready to whip themselves at him.
“I love to be the one to inform you, Ms. Mikael,” he shuffled closer to my chair and leaned down. “But the meeting is actually with me.”
Goosebumps arose over my arms as his minty breath fanned against my cheek.
Nails bit into my palm. Adelaide, you don’t have money for a lawsuit.
Christian shuffled past our table to the one beside ours, blocking the sunlight with his broadness as he perched his hideous self onto it. His face hid with shadows, I saw the lines of an insufferable smirk and a strong- settled jaw.
He’s all muscle and too much of someone I’d love to enjoy in other circumstances. Damn him for having a hot body.
Stupid, stupid Adelaide . It would be better getting on my knees and begging Harry.
Heavy breaths and uncharacteristic glances, I stood from my spot and made it my mission to get out.
Only three steps later.
A large, calloused, warm hand tethered itself to my wrist.
Turning my head with a preposterous look, Christian’s smirk evolved into a frown.
With a swift pull, electric sparks sprinted towards my heart, hypnotising me to jump into a pool of dark hazel eyes.