CHAPTER NINETEEN
ADAIR

The fresh paint smell has been replaced by coffee and sweets, which I’m guessing is Travis’s doing. That guy can’t pass a bakery without loading up. I hunker down to sneak up on him. “What’d you get me for breakfast?”

He jumps when he sees my face peeking around the edge of the oversized desk in our lobby. “Nothing for you,” he grumbles hugging the large box tight to his chest.

Nash snorts out a laugh and waves a Texas-sized cinnamon roll at me. “Morning.”

“Why does he get one?” I ask pointing to Nash who is taking a huge bite of the sugary treat.

“Because he didn’t ask me to pick him up at the butt-crack of dawn,” Travis pouts.

This is exactly why I replaced Travis’s toilet paper with a fake, but very realistic roll this morning before I left. “Fine. I guess we all have to pay the price at some point, right?”

His eyes narrow as he takes a slow bite from his donut loaded in blueberries and icing. “What’d you do?”

“Nothing.” Cough. “I must have something stuck in my throat. How’s the set up going for the food bank?”

Travis shrugs. “That’s Carly’s department,” he says, nodding toward the hallway with her officed located at the end.

“She’s here?” I ask suddenly losing the breath in my lungs.

He nods. “Didn’t look like she had a long night either,” he says, nudging me in the shoulder. “That’s good news for you, dude.”

“I’m going to stop you there before I punch you in the teeth.”

He holds both hands up and takes two steps back, conveniently stopping right beside the white rectangle box of sugary heaven. “I was going to offer you one of these. I guess I won’t now.” Grabbing the box, he spins on his heel and stomps into the conference room where Nash is already waiting to talk to Griffin about the first acts being signed to Amaryllis Studios.

The hallway between the lobby and Carly’s office seems to be closing in on me as I walk towards her door. The last time I was in her office, things didn’t go so well. In fact, I’m surprised she even spoke to me after that.

And then I screwed it all up—again.

I can hear the melody coming through her headphones from the other side of the door. “Ahem,” I clear my throat as I push her door open. She hasn’t seen me yet. I wonder how long I could watch her work without her even noticing me. Fifteen seconds, apparently.

Her eyes focus on me, meeting my gaze for a split second before she turns her attention back to the screen. “What do you want, Adair?” she asks without even stopping long enough to take her headphones off, or to turn the music down. I guess our honeymoon isn’t exactly going as planned, even if it’s not the official honeymoon I had hoped for.

“I just wanted to see if there was anything, I could do to help set things up for the food shelter appearance you booked for us.”

“Nope.”

All right. This is going to be more difficult than I thought. “So, last night—”

“Don’t.”

“Carly, I—”

She shakes her head yanking the leopard print headphones off and tossing them on her desk. “Please. I’m asking you nicely to not bring up last night, or anything else for that matter. It’s too much and I’m about to crack, so if you ever cared about me—just don’t.”

I nod and take a deep breath in as I take the seat right in front of her desk. “Okay, but I’m not leaving.”

“You had no problems leaving last night.”

Ouch. “You had company.”

“Uninvited company.”

“He looked pretty comfortable there, if you ask me.” This is not how I planned our conversation going.

“Maybe you should just leave.”

I shake my head no.

“Please?”

“Uh-uh.”

She lets out a frustrated sigh and puts her headphones back on. “At least make yourself useful and start calling these people to confirm they’re still in.”

“You got it.” I put a single finger on the edge of the spreadsheet and swing it around so I’m not reading it upside down. “That’s a lot of people.”

She nods.

“Did you put all this together?”

She nods, again.

“Carly,” I pull one ear free from the leopard patterned confinement, “this is seriously impressive.”

She taps the pause button on her screen. “Thanks.”

“Listen, I know things are weird between us right now, but you should know how incredibly impressive this is.”

“Weird?” Her face distorts into a confused scowl. “That’s one way of putting it.”

I let out a slow breath like my life is depending on it. “What would you call it?”

“Frustrating. Annoying. Grating on my nerves… I could go on.”

“I’m sure you could.” I tap the first phone number in and go to push the call button but pull back just before I tap the screen. “I still don’t understand why I’m in trouble when I left because your boyfriend showed up.”

“You’re not in trouble for leaving.” Her voice catches on the last word. If I wasn’t paying such close attention to her, I think I would’ve missed it. It makes me wonder how many moments like this I did miss while I was wallowing in self-loathing and pity. “Last night was just another mistake in a long list of them that I’ve made where you’re concerned. Let’s just move on.”

“Mistake?” I reach for her hand across the desk, but she pulls it back and goes back to typing to avoid my grasp. “You can try to block me out. Truthfully, I don’t blame you. I’ve blocked everyone I love out, including you, for the last twelve years. I’ve realized it. It might be too late, but I’ve realized it and I’m trying to fix it.”

Did I just tell her I love her?

Yes, yes I did.

And she’s not sleeping this time like she was in the car on the way back from Colorado Springs.

She heard it. Her jaw just fell open. She definitely heard it. “I don’t know what to do with that. Can we just go back to focusing on the food drive for right now?”

I nod and highlight the first row on the spreadsheet. “Sure. Apparently, I’m calling Karen from Arrow Meat Company to confirm their donation of one-hundred frozen turkeys. Does that sound about right?”

“Yep.”

“I want to do something to help too.” I say while the line is ringing. “Where is there a gap in the donations? Maybe the guys and I can pull resources together and fill a hole somewhere.”

Her eyebrows smash together as she studies my face before answering. “What do you mean pull resources together?”

“Things have been a little tight since we gave notice to The Machine. They’ve stopped our future royalties and are holding them in reserves for breaking our contract.” I shrug. “We sank every penny we all had into building these studios, and of course then we all went and decided to have new houses built. So, we don’t have a lot of debt because we pooled the Amaryllis funds together to make sure we could all do what we needed to do, but until these new acts, including Amaryllis two-point-oh, start getting out there and making us money, we don’t have a lot of funds on hand anymore.”

The bright red leather of her chair stands in stark contrast to her white motorcycle style jacket as she leans back and processes what I just told her.

“Didn’t expect your rockstar buddies to be living paycheck to paycheck, did you?” I snicker. Nervously. Gulp.

“I’m sorry,” she says so softly it’s almost a whisper. “I never even considered what walking away from The Machine would actually mean for you guys. I just—”

“Don’t apologize.” I hold both hands up in front of me. “You had no way of knowing. We made a conscious effort to make sure no one knew what we were doing because we didn’t want it getting into the press. Not that we think you’d take it to the press. Never mind. I’m just going to shut up now.” I notice a faint smile crossing her face and it brightens her eyes. They’re almost the color of jade when she’s happy. I miss seeing happy on her. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” She pulls a drawer behind the desk open and flips through the papers until she finds what she’s looking for. “I just realized you might not be a walking cliché after all.”

“What about the pig-headed part?”

“Don’t push your luck,” she giggles. “Since you just told me a business secret that’s probably uncomfortable, take a look at this…” she says, sliding a black leather-look folder across the desk. The gold-foil label in the center says Not Another Cliché Marketing & Personal Relations, LLC. “I’ve even hired an executive assistant. She starts in just a couple of days.”

“Okay, two things,” I say, holding up one finger. “First, this is amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

She blushes and gives me a sweet smile that’s enough to make my heart stop beating so I can stay in this moment forever. “And the second thing?”

“Really?” I deadpan pointing at the word Cliché printed on the folder.

She holds both hands up in a shrug. “What can I say? You inspired me,” she laughs.

“I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”

Her head shakes back and forth. “Nope.”

“I guess I deserve that.” She’s ready to walk away and do her own thing. I’m running out of time. “What about Amaryllis?”

“Remember when I told you that I’ve made too many of my decisions based on Amaryllis?”

I nod not liking where this is going. Not. At. All.

“I decided it was time to do something for myself, so when it’s time for you… for Amaryllis to move on again, I won’t be left scrambling.”

My heart clenches. “I never meant to keep you from building your own life, Carly.”

“Didn’t you?” she says with a soft smile. Her façade cracking for the first time since I walked through her door.

I shake my head still staring at the folder she put in my hands.

“Wasn’t that kind of the point though?” she asks. “As long as I needed you, and Amaryllis, then I couldn’t walk away regardless of how difficult it got.”

“No.” She’s wrong. My blood runs hot like boiling water is being shot through my veins. The thought never occurred to me to keep her locked in without a way out.

The happy I had seen in her eyes just a few moments ago has already faded and turned into a look I’ve only seen on her once before, when she found out Stone was an addict. She cried all night after she caught him shooting up in his car. I remember because my shoulder caught every tear falling from her eyes that night. That’s the man I’m supposed to be, not the one causing her more heartache.

“I’ve been here at your beck and call for twelve years,” she continues, driving a knife through my heart with each word that rolls off her tongue.

“I didn’t see it that way. I thought you were here because you wanted to be.”

She nods and swallows hard. “I did want to be.”

Did? “Past tense?”

“The reason I wanted to be here is the problem.”

I hold up my hand flashing the cheap coin machine ring she put on my finger less than forty-eight hours ago. “It doesn’t have to be a problem anymore, Carly.”

A hint of nostalgia flashes across her face. It fades just as fast. “In the car, in front of the chapel, even during the cheesy Las Vegas wannabe ceremony, I thought you had finally come around. Now look at me. Look at us…” She gestures in the open space between us. “We’re right back where we started. One of us has to get off this road, or we’ll just end up going in circles for the rest of our lives.”

That cheesy Las Vegas wannabe ceremony is one of my favorite memories. “How can you say that? I wouldn’t trade the other night for anything.”

“Because we’re literally in the exact same place we were twelve years ago.”

“And what place is that?”

She lets out a heartbreaking sigh. A defeated sigh. A sigh saying every bit of hope is lost. “Waiting for you to wake up and live the life we both wanted. At least, I thought we both wanted it, but instead you walked away—again.”

“I’m here.” I hold my arms wide open as I stand up and stomp my feet in place dramatically. “I’m ready. Let’s move forward instead of staying stuck in our past.”

Her head shakes slowly back and forth. “It’s too late, Adair.”

How can she say that? “It’s never too late.”

“Think about all the time I’ve already wasted on you—on this.” A single tear falls down her cheek. What I wouldn’t give to be able to reach across her desk and wipe it away along with all the pain I’ve caused her over the years, for just a chance to erase the last twelve years from her memory.

Maybe then we could have a chance.