Ex-Stephanie and Adam met in college. Even though he had tons of money, he still went and got a business degree so he would know what he was doing. He was serious about running the company. He went to an Ivy League school, of course, and Stephanie came from money too. She was there training to be a therapist. Then, they met, fell in love (I think), and got married a few years later. They never had any kids because they were both workaholics. Stephanie was pretty down to earth for a rich person. Her parents were lawyers or something, so she always had more money, and then she became uber-rich by marrying Adam. Anyway, she was fine. Or so I thought.
She was always nice to me and everyone else whenever she came to the office or called or whatever, but I don’t think she was very nice to Adam most of the time. I’m not even sure why he put up with that or pined for her after. I’ve actually tried to tell him to get his shit together and move on and find someone nicer, but he won’t listen. He hears me, but he doesn’t really process anything I tell him. I’ve pointed out that people who love each other don’t say horrible things to each other—really damaging things. Wives shouldn’t, in my opinion, run up a ten thousand dollar a month salon bill and another fifty-odd thousand every other month in purses and shoes. I wouldn’t complain if my husband took me on a really nice vacation twice a year or bought me tons of crazy expensive things and a huge mansion. I’m just saying. But whatever Adam did for Stephanie, it was never enough. I overheard her saying some pretty nasty shit to him a few times. Things about him. And it hurt me to hear it. I can’t imagine how it made him feel.
“Adam, you know that…well…you know what I think about Stephanie. I think she didn’t treat you very nicely, especially in the end. So, I’m not sure why you’re trying so hard to prove anything to her. She doesn’t deserve it. She should be left to rot in some dank, million-dollar hole with all that money she absconded with because the legal system is seriously flawed.”
“Because it matters.” Adam takes a turn way too violently. The car tires literally screech. This isn’t anything new. Adam always likes to drive like he’s in a freaking race. I guess if the car fits…
“I get where you’re coming from, Adam, but I really think it doesn’t matter. Not this much. This is going to be humiliating. I’m not a good actress. She’ll probably take one look at me and declare that you’re too hot for me, like way too hot and way too rich. She’ll then declare you pathetic for dating your secretary and announce that I’m certainly a gold digger.”
“Stop.”
“It’s true. It’s going to happen.”
“I’m not too hot for you.”
I slide a sly glance Adam’s way while he hits the freeway. My mouth suddenly gets all dry. I’m a little bit surprised. He’s never given me a physical compliment before. Why would he? That would be completely out of line. Plus, he’s never looked at me that way. I, on the other hand, have definitely noticed him.
I mean, Adam’s gorgeous—six odd feet of pure muscly deliciousness. Women practically melt in his wake. I see it happen all the time, all those gooey, melting looks. I know for a fact that he’s definitely too hot for me. I’m not tall and busty and blonde like his ex-wife. I’m a brunette, barely five foot six, and I am built like a stick. My bras are A-cup, and I probably don’t even need that. I believe the correct term might be “waif-like.” Guys in high school used to make fun of me for being built like celery. That’s what they called me—Celery Stephanie.
“Yeah, well, I’m still not rich.”
“She wouldn’t call you a gold digger. We’ve known each other far too long for that.”
“She’ll just declare me pathetic and you even worse, and she’ll start practicing her psychology bullshit on you, telling you all the reasons it’s wrong to get involved with your younger secretary.”
“You’re thirty. It’s not that much younger.”
I realize the time for protesting has already passed, and I only agreed to this because of the huge bonus for my roof and all that, but I still give it one last-ditch effort. “Adam, please. Let’s just turn around. It’s not too late to go home. We don’t even know how to put that tent up. We’re going to get eaten by bugs, and I don’t know how to build a fire. It’s also probably going to rain, and I don’t like swimming in lakes. There are fish and leaches and weeds. And…and…this is just going to be a disaster. It’s going to be completely humiliating.”
“I’m not turning around, sorry. Plus, we already have a deal. You want the five thousand dollars, and in exchange, you lend me your sensual services for a few days.”
“Sensual services?!” I nearly choke on my own spit. “Jesus. We agreed this is purely platonic. Acting only.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Whatever.” I cross my arms, sink down lower in the uncomfortable seat, and close my eyes. I’m not talking about this anymore. There isn’t any point. If Adam doesn’t want to help himself, then whatever. I can only do so much.
And the five grand bonus for four days of this is going to be nice. I can probably make a couple more thousands by selling the stupid camping crap after since it’s all brand new, and I know Adam won’t want it. My roof is already leaking, has been since I bought the house. I figure I have a solid year before it caves right in. Not. Good.
Maybe we’ll be lucky, and we won’t even run into Ex-Stephanie at all. I’ll still demand the five grand either way. And honestly, it wouldn’t be that bad spending some time with Adam. He might be my boss, but I could handle it. After four years of working for Adam, he’s kind of grown on me in a way. Okay, if I were to be really honest, I actually like him on a base level and respect him more than that. He’s not a skin tag. And the truth is, five grand aside, I don’t want to see him get hurt. I’ve seen too much of that already these past two years, and even before the divorce.
The car picks up speed as we get close to an open stretch of road, and I start mentally digging my own grave. Because really, the universe isn’t into doing me any favors as of late. So, we’ll most probably end up running into Ex-Stephanie as soon as we get there.
CHAPTER 2
Adam
Everyone remembers their first love. It’s something that sticks with you throughout your entire life. My schooling was different from most people’s. My parents wanted me to have as normal a life as possible. Instead of hiring private tutors or sending me to some fancy boarding school across the pond, they sent me to a regular school. By regular, I mean that they were still paying a crazy amount in tuition fees, and kids still had to wear uniforms, but other than that, it was actually quite down to earth.
I had a couple of friends who got me through it, and I still keep in touch with them. At the time, I had been too busy being a guy with the guys and playing sports to actually care much about girls. Maybe that’s weird. I don’t know. I guess for me, that’s not what high school was about. It could also be that my parents are still, to this day, blissfully and happily married, and my dad instilled in me some pretty tough ground rules about treating women properly. Casual dating and the high school angst and heartbreak weren’t for me. I got through without a romantic scrape.
That stayed true until I went to college. It’s where I met Ex-Stephanie. She’s the one I first fell in love with. It might sound incredibly clichéd and horribly cheesy, but I knew from the second I saw her that she was the one. She was it. I was so in love with her that it physically hurt. I chased the notion of perfect romantic love for years, and I wanted our relationship to be everything. To be the same kind of relationship my parents had, but…yeah…it never was.
I can see that now, because, as they say, hindsight is twenty fucking twenty. We lost the romance first, and then love followed. Some people say that if you can lose love, you were never in love in the first place. Maybe they’re right. Maybe they’re not. How the heck would I know? Apparently, I don’t know anything at all, not even how to replace a lightbulb.
I know Assistant Steph (obviously I have never called her this to her face) thinks I need to grow a pair of balls and move on. She’s probably right. And she’s right that Ex-Stephanie never treated me very well, at least not the past couple of years. She’s right that I was used like an ATM. I never minded because I wanted to give Ex-Stephanie the world, and I had the means to do so.
And then there was the end. Her words are going to be imprinted on the soft, spongy, grey matter of my brain for the rest of my life.