Falling into that last category was, first, a classic Disney movie. It was really cute, but Adam did not strike me as the Disney type. So Simba, Timon, and the gang got tossed under the sofa. The second DVD was a romantic drama, a real tearjerker. One of my favorites, in fact, but I feared Adam would suspect I was trying to send him some kind of message about how I expected our relationship to go. Yeah, definitely too soon for that one, I thought. I hesitated, though, because I really loved that movie.
Sitting there, DVD poised in hand, the glare of car headlights suddenly flashing across the living room wall drew my attention. Was it Adam arriving early? If so I had to get rid of the tearjerker flick. So I quickly jammed it under the sofa to join the Disney show.
I rose and went over to the window to look out. Adam’s car was, indeed, closing in on the cottage, but the Porsche was coming from the direction of town, not from Adam’s house. Odd, maybe he’d gone into town first for some reason. As the vehicle slowed around the bend near the cottage, I saw Adam driving. But what was strange was that there was someone in the passenger seat. A woman, for sure. One with short, dark hair. What the…?
The car sped off toward his house, and I went back to sit on the sofa, dumfounded. Why would Adam be driving by my cottage with a woman in his car? Fifteen minutes before he was supposed to be here to watch a movie with me. Something was definitely off. And I didn’t like it one bit.
I went into the kitchen, slammed the empty bottle down on the table, and defiantly grabbed another one out of the refrigerator. And then I began to pace, the heels of my boots clicking across the linoleum floor. My mind went into overdrive. The woman wasn’t Helena or Ami, not with the dark hair. It couldn’t have been Jennifer either. This woman had short hair. Besides, I suspected Adam and Jennifer were not particularly friendly. How could they be with the J.T. factor thrown in? So who was in the car with Adam?
Lifting the bottle to my lips, I drank down the last of my second beer. I attempted to toss the bottle into the trash but missed. Damn, I was a lightweight when it came to drinking. I went over to pick the bottle up off the floor and froze. Oh no! What if the unidentified woman was Lindsey? From what Helena had said, I’d gotten the impression Lindsey didn’t come here to see Adam; it sounded more like a convenient tryst for when he was in Boston. But maybe she’d come up to the island to find out why Adam had stopped seeing her. Hell, I would have. And hadn’t Helena said Jennifer had brought somebody over from the mainland earlier today? I kicked myself for not calling Helena back earlier to find out who’d been ordering that latte with Jennifer. Shit.
Things rapidly went from bad to worse when I noticed it was three minutes after seven. My heart dropped. Not only was Adam with another woman, but he was apparently standing me up. Now determined to drown my sorrows in alcohol, I grabbed another beer. And that was when my cell phone began to buzz.
Adam, the screen indicated.
Oh, this ought to be good, I thought to myself as I took a long drink and then said “Hello” in a none-too-happy voice.
“Maddy, it’s Adam.” No kidding. “I got delayed, but I’ll be there in—”
“You’re late,” I interrupted, promptly sipping more beer in the ensuing interlude.
“I know, and I apologize. Something out of my control came up—”
“Oh, I bet something came up,” I said bitingly. Being a smartass was better than crying, and the beer made it all too easy.
Adam paused. “Maddy, are you alright? You sound kind of, I don’t know, not yourself.”
“Never been better,” I answered, before downing the last of my cold beverage.
“Uh, if tonight’s not a good night…” he trailed off, uncertainty in his voice.
I wanted an explanation—in person— so I hastily replied, “No. In fact, how soon can you get here?”
“Ten minutes?”
“See you then,” I said flippantly, before hitting end.
I waited until I heard his Porsche pulling into my driveway to get up from the kitchen chair I’d settled into. Whoa, steady there, I thought as I held tightly to the edge of the table for a few extra seconds. The alcohol I’d consumed had caught up to me, and I was definitely feeling it.
Tottering in my heels, I negotiated my way to the front door. Once I made it there without incident, I fluffed out my hair, bit down on my lips to give them some color, and pushed up my corset to further enhance my already-prominent cleavage. Let him see just what he’ll be missing once I kick him to the curb.
But when I opened the door, I was met with a breathtakingly gorgeous—albeit slightly blurry—Adam. Dressed in a deep blue pullover that complemented the color of his eyes and faded jeans that hugged him in all the right ways, he was quite a vision of handsomeness. “Wow! You look hot,” I blurted and then mentally slapped myself for complimenting him when I was supposed to be mad.
Adam chuckled, and I caught him steal a glance at my ample cleavage. Score one for me.
“Coming in, Adam?” I giggled, throwing his words from the night on the runway back at him, while leaning against the doorframe for support.
Adam eyed me curiously, brow furrowed, “Have you been drinking, Madeleine?”
“Aw, just a little,” I pshawed. I grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come on in to my humble abode. Or should I say your humble abode.”
Adam allowed me the
