Picture Perfect (The Wilsons) (8 page)

“Lea!” Stacey engulfed her in a great big hug, and gave her a peck on the cheek. “We’re so glad you’re here!” She let go and turned to Adam. “And thank you so much for being our photographer! We know you’re on a break and…”

“Don’t mention it.” He smiled politely, amused by the look of shock and disdain in Lea’s eyes.

It wasn’t like he was doing this to get close to her, he’d told himself. He’d genuinely felt sorry for Stacey, and when he’d told her he was a photojournalist for
World News Wire
and taken a few quick snaps of her and her fiancé Brandon, she’d begged him to be the wedding photographer. Who was he to make Stacey miserable by saying no?

So here he was, fading into the background, and snapping away happily. He was actually having a great time – the whole wedding was a bit over the top, but he always loved taking photos, no matter where he was. Growing up, he’d earned some pocket money doing wedding photography, so he knew
exactly what shots were expected.

The decorations in the reception room were subtle and elegant, and everyone was happy and in a festive mood.
Adam took one photo after the other, capturing those fleeting, joyful emotions and the beauty of the moment.

He sank into his work and forgot about everything else, even Lea. Well, almost.

***

At first Lea was annoyed. Why was Adam still so close to her? Why didn’t he just disappear somewhere else? Had he taken this photography gig just to annoy her or maybe spy on her? She decided to ignore him, and focused all of her energy on mingling with Stacey’s friends and having a good time at the dinner.

But she couldn’t really keep her eyes away from him. She snuck glances at him, wondering what he was doing, and pretty soon it became apparent that he was engrossed in his work, and that he was doing this because he loved taking photos. It had nothing to do with her. If she’d expected that she’d attract his attention, that he’d take a disproportionately large number of photos of her, she was wrong – he focused entirely on doing his job properly. And that bothered her. After what had happened between them, maybe his attention
should
be focused on her!

Once Lea realized how busy he was with his work, she used this opportunity to observe him in secret. He was definitely attractive – there was no doubt about that. He was tall, and his formal shirt did nothing to hide the fact that he was strong and muscular. Even with the slight limp, he moved gracefully, and there was an intensity about him that would’ve scared her if she hadn’t known him better.

He fascinated her, and that was worrying. If he was attractive on the surface only, with nothing underneath, she could’ve gotten away with an emotion-free holiday fling with him. But he sucked her in, in a mysterious way, and she wasn’t about to take an unnecessary risk with him. Why had she ever agreed to share that suite with him? She’d grab her luggage tonight and move back to her smaller room. She was thankful she’d stopped that kiss in time.

 

Chapter Six

By the time Lea got back to the suite, it was late.

She’d gone out with her girlfriends for drinks after the dinner, and though she’d only had a couple of cocktails, she’d had a great time. It was only hours later, when they were all saying goodbye, that she realized she had no option but to sneak into the suite and grab her luggage. Hopefully, at this strange hour, Adam would be asleep.

She opened the door to the suite quietly, and was immediately assaulted by the smell of hot chocolate cake. Adam was sitting quietly at the dining table, doing something on his laptop, and the whole place reeked of a delicious bakery.

“What’s going on?”

The surprise was evident on her face, and she wondered if Adam looked a bit relieved to see her.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m baking a cake.”

She looked at him like he’d just sprouted horns. “You’re baking,” she repeated in disbelief, “A cake.
At this hour.”

“Yep.”

He was busy working at something on his laptop, as he waited for the cake to be done, and barely glanced up at her. “Where’ve you been, by the way? It’s late.”

He sounded vaguely annoyed, and this pissed her off.

“It’s none of your business,” she said. “You’re not my mom.”

Adam cracked a thin smile and looked up at her again. “Do you want some cake?”

She shook her head in despair. If she’d thought Adam was strange, she’d been mistaken – he was
extremely
strange.

“Who bakes a cake in the presidential suite?” she wondered out loud. “Has that oven even been used before?”

His grin was wider now, and that posh accent made a re-appearance. “Why, my dear,” he said, “The President prefers to eat food prepared only by his personal, Michelin-starred chef.”

Lea bit back a smile and headed towards her luggage.

“Have a slice before you leave,” he said. “It’s almost done and it’s too large for me to finish.”

“Why’d you make it, then?”

“I like baking. Reminds me of my Gramps.”

“Oh.” The surprises never ceased. “So he baked?”

“All the time. And cooked and basted and roasted. He taught me that a man should know his way about the kitchen – if you’re gonna eat, eat well, was his motto.”

Curiosity got the better of her. “Was he a chef?”

Now it was Adam’s turn to look surprised. “No. He just liked food. He was a school-teacher.”

“Oh, did he retire?”

“No.” Adam paused. “He died three years back.”

Lea felt like kicking herself for asking the wrong thing. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Adam smiled. “That’s ok. He had a long and happy life, and he got to see most of my success, so that makes me happy.”

“Were you two close?”

“He practically raised me. And he taught me how to make cakes – this one’s triple chocolate…”

Lea grinned. “Ah, what the hell. I love desserts.”

“Really? I thought maybe Park Avenue Princesses didn’t eat sugar or something.”

She refused to rise to the bait. “No way, I love my sugar. My cousin Mel’s a baker, she usually supplies me with my hit of pastries and cakes.”

She winked broadly, and Adam felt
something stirring inside him. What was he doing with her so late at night, he chided himself. Why had he asked her to stay for cake? He must be an idiot.

He ignored the part of him which was scolding him and said instead, “Mel sounds cool, tell me more about her.”

Lea shook her head. “No, tell me more about your Gramps, what was he like?”

“Sure you want to know?”

She nodded, and he moved to the couch, and settled down opposite her. He hadn’t told anyone about his grandfather in a long time, and he actually enjoyed this chance to talk about him.

His grandfather had raised him because his mom had been a shitty parent. There was no denying that fact – after his grandma died, Gramps had spoiled his only daughter and let her do whatever she wanted.

Adam’s mother grew up wild and selfish, and led a life of partying and “socializing”. One of her numerous boyfriends had gotten her pregnant, but she didn’t let that dampen her social life – she merely chose richer guys to date, and made them hire nannies so she could be a better girlfriend.

After one too many fights with her latest boyfriend, Adam had run away to his Gramps when he was fourteen. His goal was to get enough money to go over to Canada, where he’d get a job in an oil rig.

“I’d heard it was easy money,” he laughed, and Lea smiled, imagining a young, naïve Adam.

His grandfather offered to let Adam stay with him and pay him the money – if he finished high school. By then, Adam had cooled down enough to accept the offer, and he struggled through and finished school.

His grandfather bought him a camera for his fifteenth birthday, and pretty soon he used up the “bribe” money to buy a better kit. He started doing wedding gigs – at first it was for the easy money, but later he fell in love with the art.

By the time he’d graduated high school, he’d amassed a decent portfolio and gotten a job at a local newspaper. From there, it was only a matter of time before he move to World News Wire and became their war-zone photographer.

“But that’s enough about me,” he said, looking awkward. “What about you? I Google’d you, but I didn’t find anything about your life in the last six years. What’ve you been up to?”

Lea looked distressed, and just then the oven
beeped.

Adam got up in a hurry, putting on an oven mitt and taking out the cake. Chocolatey goodness filled the room, and Lea cooed excitedly. “It looks great,” she said, “Where are the plates?”

Adam laughed at her impatience and indicated the china cabinets. She dug out two fine bone china plates, a knife and two forks.

She handed Adam the knife so he’d cut the cake, but he looked at her doubtfully.
“I was planning to make some icing.”

Lea shook her head decisively. “No time. I’m starving! And that looks perfect as it is!”

She was right, of course – the cake was dark and gooey and delicious, just the right amount of sweetness mingling with the rich taste of the chocolate. It was decadent and indulgent, even without the icing.

She moaned happily and dug into the cake, savoring each bite. Adam watched her, pleased by her reaction, and thinking to himself that this was probably the only time he’d watch her enjoy such amazing bliss. He imagined her in bed, making the same noises, and cut off his thoughts before they could get any further.

“You were telling me,” he said, “About your life.”

She shook her head. “No, I wasn’t.”

“Well you were about to.” When she stayed silent for almost a minute, Adam finally asked, “What? Is it a secret?”

“Yes. It is.”

He rolled his eyes. “Then tell me. I’ll keep your secret safe.”

She looked at him doubtfully and he said, “It’s eating you up inside. Tell me, before you get an ulcer.”

She laughed. How could he always be so lighthearted? “Do you promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Cross my heart.”

“You might hate me.”

His eyes softened and his voice was low. “I don’t think I could ever hate you.”

Something in his gaze made Lea look away quickly. “Well, let’s try you then. How about this: six years ago, I almost killed two people.”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “How did that happen?”

Lea sighed, but there was no going back from here. His voice was surprisingly non-judgmental. “I used to party a lot. One night, I had a couple of drinks and decided to drive home. I crashed into another car.”

Adam nodded. “Was anyone hurt?”

She shook her head, no. She remembered that moment all over again, everything happening in slow motion – the screech of her tires, the smell of rubber, the blinding lights, and finally, the crash.

Thankfully, the two passengers were unhurt. The accident had left her numb and in shock - and had scared her enough to go and get therapy. She could've killed someone, just by being careless.

She explained to Adam how that night, the memories of her last four years' of partying had turned sour. A few weeks later, she'd quit drinking, given up on her old friends and habits, and gotten an internship at a small hedge fun. Her dad’s lawyers managed to keep the news out of the papers, and a generous settlement to the passengers of the other car meant that nobody ever breathed a word of what had happened.

Adam moved over to her sofa and took her hand in his. “It’s okay.”

His voice was gentle and he squeezed her hand.

Lea gulped and looked up at him. “Why are you consoling me? It was my fault.”

Adam felt tingles travelling up from his fingers where he held her, and quickly let go of her hand and scooted further away on the couch.

“It’s not your fault anymore,” he said, shrugging casually. “You could’ve hurt someone, but you didn’t. It’s like saying I could’ve killed that receptionist because I was mad at him, so I should feel guilty. Anyway, you paid the guys whose car you hit a lot of money, so they’re happy. And you turned your life around. You’re making sure you’re doing a good job, making people around you happy, and all that stuff. You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about now.”

Lea nodded slowly. “Well, at least what you’re saying makes me feel better. Sure you don’t hate me?”

Adam smiled, his
eyes glowing gently. “I’m sure.”

“Ok. Then tell me about your work. How do you see such terrible things and stay so happy and
carefree all the time?”

She almost regretted a
sking him. Almost, but not quite – she was far too curious about his contradictions.

Adam’s eyes darkened and he stared down at his plate, and then glanced at the cake he’d made. Finally he said, “I’ve seen a lot of terrible things. People are brutes, they’re savages. It’s unbelievable what terrible things they’ll do to others, and you… You don’t even understand when you hear it, or see photos. You see it in front of you…
You talk to…”

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