The Rebound (Girls of Summer Book 2) Page 8

  “Let’s eat first or would you rather take a few pictures?” I kept my gaze on the food, hoping he’d say eat.

  “Pictures first, I guess.” Adam’s voice strained. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Sounds good. I have a few ideas for ultimate romance fakery. Let’s go. We can do a few selfies during dinner too. For some real shots.”

  I grabbed my phone and we stepped onto the patio. When I opened the screen, there was another text from Darla.

  How much of a player?

  I didn’t want to lie, but I thought about Erik’s letter. Logan dated and dumped. He’d be in love with a girl one day then a different girl the next. Was it my place to tell Darla to play it safe? Not really. But I didn’t want to lie to her either. We were still on fragile ground.

  Honestly, he dates a lot and falls for girls fast then gets bored with them. Logan’s not a bad guy, he’s just not into commitment. Not that I’ve seen anyway. He’s got a big heart.

  I waited for a response.

  “Who are you talking to?” Adam asked just as my phone chirped another message. He slipped it from my hands before I could see who it was from. “Erik? Seriously? What letter?”

  “I wasn’t talking to Erik.” I took my phone back, opened the messages from Darla, and shoved it in his face. “Check the time stamp if you don’t believe me.”

  His eyes flashed over the text then refocused on me. “What letter?”

  Shaking my head, I opened Erik’s text.

  Did you read the letter I wrote you? It’s okay if you didn’t.

  I responded. Yes, thank you. It meant a lot.

  A smiley face emoji was all I got back.

  “What letter?” Adam asked, more irritated than before. He had no right to be. We weren’t together. “Are you seeing him or something?”

  I closed my eyes. We were not going to fight. There wasn’t any reason for either one of us to get all defensive about who we were talking to, unless it was Heather and he was making an ass out of me. Other than that, it shouldn’t matter. Faking being a couple was hard. If I told him about Erik, it was because that what an honest relationship meant. We weren’t in an honest relationship. And faking it meant faking almost everything. This was getting complicated without any of the perks.

  “Erik and I are just friends.” I set my phone on the table and ignored it when it chirped another message. “He’s got issues that he’s dealing with.”

  “No shit,” Adam said, crossing his arms.

  “Look, his demons are his. Just like yours are yours.” I closed the gap between us and stared into his eyes. “You wouldn’t want me to tell everyone you’re still pining over Heather. That you still have her number in your phone or that you still are friends with her online. That you stare at her when I’m not looking. That you would drop me in a heartbeat if you could reverse time and she didn’t repeat the same mistake?” Tears threatened, but I pushed them down like a good Westbrook would. “So, don’t expect me to explain Erik to you. I won’t.”

  Adam’s gaze darkened and his cheeks burned red. “I still don’t like him.”

  “You don’t have to. And in a few months when you get over your stupid obsession, it won’t even matter.” I shrugged, ignoring how hard saying that was. His lips tightened. A change of subject was in order. “Let’s take a romantic selfie while the light’s still good.” I turned around and put my back against him, careful to keep the contact light. “Put your arms around my waist and your chin on my shoulder.”

  “Like this,” he said. He fit against me like a puzzle, and I settled into his embrace.

  “Mmm-hmm,” I said, closing my eyes to enjoy the moment. Snap out of it. My eyes opened and I tensed. “Where’s your phone?”

  He lifted it and took the photo, but he didn’t let go. “One more?”

  I nodded because the breathlessness of his voice weakened my knees. He held the phone up and I smiled at the camera. Then he pressed his forehead to my temple. I leaned into him again as his lips brushed against my cheek. The phone clicked softly.

  “Perfect,” he whispered against my skin.

  It was perfect. I stepped away, his fingers skimming along my waist until I was free. It was too perfect and too much. Adam’s eyebrows furrowed as I faced him.

  “Send those to me.” I pointed at my phone on the table. “We should change our profile pics to match. And we’ll take some other photos for the timeline.” I turned toward the kitchen. “I’m going to grab the food.”

  Busying myself with dinner, I didn’t hear the front door open or the footsteps on the marble floor.

  “Hey, Ace,” my father’s voice boomed, echoing in the room.

  I dropped a plate of olives. The ceramic shattered and the olives rolled across the floor. Before I could move, the sliding door opened.

  “Are you okay?” Dad and Adam said at the same time.

  Talk about all kinds of awkward. They stared at each other, glanced at me, then went back to their staring match. Dad’s expression was a veneer of pure nothingness, but I knew this move. He was weighing every inch of Adam’s stance and body language. Adam, on the other hand, shifted from each foot and his gaze darted around.

  “Dad, this is Adam,” I said, because what else could I say? Hey Dad, I have a boy over when nobody’s home. That cool? “Adam, this is my father, Eliot Westbrook.”

  Dad stepped forward cautiously and offered Adam his hand. “Nice to meet you, Adam. I didn’t...” He turned toward me. “Something you want to tell me?”

  Adam shook Dad’s hand, but he didn’t say a word. Smart move.

  I took a deep breath. Dad knew all my friends at Xavier and all my enemies. “We’re dating.”

  Adam’s face blanched. He had no clue how my father would react to that tidbit.

  “Dating?” Dad turned back to Adam. I saw a twitch of his lips, but he kept his face blank. It was all in his voice. Dad didn’t let a single emotion through. His voice was as cold as ice. “For how long?”

  Adam swallowed. “Just a few weeks, sir.”

  I laughed. This was ridiculous. “Cut it out, Dad. You’re scaring him.”

  “That’s my intention.” He was fierce in the boardroom. That mask he used could take down anybody who dared challenge him. When he dropped it, he was fun loving and enjoyed clowning around. Dad smiled, and his face lightened.

  “Stop,” I said, slapping his shoulder. Dad faced me then pulled me into a hug. “I’m glad you’re home early.”

  “Caught an earlier flight.” He let go of me and glanced at the food on the counter. “Got enough for your old man to join you for dinner?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Adam’s eyes widened. “Maybe I should go.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Dad said, putting his arm around Adam’s shoulder. “We’ll get to know each other.”

  “Dad’s just screwing with you.” I went to the pantry and grabbed the dustpan. Someone had to clean up the plate and the olives. “Take the food outside while I clean up.”

  Adam took the dustpan from me. “I got this.” He spun the dustpan around in his hand like a gun. “Wouldn’t want you to cut yourself.”

  “Goof,” I said, but I wasn’t about to say no. Adam put the dustpan on his hip and raised his eyebrows.

  “You know it.” He nodded toward my father who was just out of earshot. Dad lifted a slice of Monterey jack cheese off a plate. “Guess you weren’t expecting him tonight.”

  “His itinerary said he’d be back tomorrow.” To be honest, I wasn’t expecting to see him then either. It had been weeks since we’d been in the house at the same time. Most of the summer actually. “I’m glad he’s here though. Adds a bit of realism to tonight, you know? And I’ve missed him.”

  “You sure you want me to stay?” he asked.

  I nodded. “You’ll like Dad.”

  Adam grinned then knelt to the floor, sweeping the shards and the olives up quickly. Dad and I picked up the dishes and carried them out to the p
atio.

  “So, this boy...” Dad let his sentence trail off. He set his dishes on the table.

  “He’s great,” I said, not hiding my actual enthusiasm. “He’s a friend of Vicky’s boyfriend.”

  “Ah.” Dad put his hands on the back of the patio chair. “Just be careful, Ace.”

  “Just get to know him, Daddy,” I countered. “And I’ve been very careful since...”

  “Yeah, I know.” He walked around the table and pulled me into a hug. “I know you have. I worry. Part of my job description.”

  I chuckled, squeezing him hard. It felt like forever since he hugged me and here, I’d gotten two in one night. Dad was in a great mood. “I know.”

  Adam came out of the house with the plate of sliced chicken.

  “Time to eat.” I glanced at the place settings. There were only two. As much as I didn’t want to leave them alone together yet, Dad needed a plate. Sighing, I headed back into the house. “I’ll be back.”

  After getting a dinner plate, silverware, and a water goblet, I stood inside the door and watched them. Adam was laughing. Dad’s hands were flying around like they always do when he tells a story. My heart swelled. Dad said something else and Adam clutched his chest. His laughter was contagious. It only encouraged my father who grew more and more animated as he talked. Dad mimed an explosion. I knew the story. When Dad was in college, he blew up a chem lab and the campus police arrested him for property damage. My grandfather gave the school a huge donation to not only fix the lab but to improve it. It’s now named the Eliot Westbrook Science Lab. Dad loved that story and it became his philosophy in science: sometimes you have to destroy something to make it better. Adam grinned at my father, then he glanced toward the house and met my gaze. His smile widened.

  If only this was real.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Golf? Why was I going golfing? Because Dad invited Adam who just happen to have the day off work and said yes. Like I was about to leave them alone, so there I was answering the door at eight on Friday morning. Adam stood on the other side in khaki shorts and a pale-yellow polo shirt. He looked more country club than city kid. I wasn’t sure I liked it. Adam was jeans and t-shirts. That fit him. Not this, not my world.

  “Hey,” he said, running his hand through his hair. The crease between his eyebrows deepened and he glanced down at his clothes. “What? Is this okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.” I stepped back to let him in, trying not to let my irritation show on my face.

  “You sure?” He lifted his hand to touch my arm, but I moved out of his reach. His hand fell to his side. He glanced up at the mural, a small smile cresting on his face. “I love that.”

  I smiled, but I didn’t follow his gaze. “Are you sure about this? Golfing with my dad?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” He faked teeing off, but his smile wasn’t genuine. “Maybe the question should be: are you sure about this?”

  I crossed my arms and glanced down the hall. Dad was in the kitchen on the phone with someone from the company. He’d been up since five, spending most of his time in his home office. This past week had been hectic. Whatever deal he’d made in New York had him working until almost midnight every night and up early every morning. Dad was normally an early riser, but this was ridiculous.

  “You don’t want me to do this, do you?” Adam asked, drawing my attention back to him.

  “It’s a bit too relationshipy,” I said, honestly.

  Adam grinned. “That’s not a word.”

  “I know.” I dropped my arms and lifted my head to the ceiling. The Arch and statue of Louis IX opposed each other with other landmarks surrounding them. It was beautiful. And part of me hated it. “It feels like we’re crossing a line here. Dad and I usually golf together once a month. Adding you into the mix...”

  “Is too relationshipy?”

  Nodding, I turned around and led the way to the kitchen. Angela sat at the counter. She’d been absent this past week and I was thrilled she’d become persona non grata, but Dad needed her. She kept his life together when work took over. I respected that. She just didn’t need to be here all the time. For the last several years, she’d weaseled her way into our lives on a more personal level: managing the house, sorting the bills, hiring and firing the staff. I stopped before crossing the threshold. Something, or rather someone, was missing. Adam slammed into me, his hands grabbing my hips to keep me from falling forward. A tingle of pleasure crawled up my spine.

  “Where’s Joanne?” I asked slowly as if that would make her suddenly appear. Dad and Angela glanced at each other before their gazes fell on me. I knew that look. It was the same look when they told me my goldfish died. “Seriously?”

  “Ace...”

  “No, Dad.” I held his gaze. “You let her fire Joanne?” I pointed at Angela. “Not happening.”

  “I didn’t—” Angela started.

  “I did,” Dad interrupted. He put his phone down and held my gaze. “I let her go this morning. After I caught her in my office, trying to open the safe.”

  My mouth fell open. I didn’t believe it. Not one bit. Adam’s fingers dug into my waist.

  “I know how much you liked her, Ace,” Dad said as he walked up to me. His heavy hands fell on my shoulders. “There was no reason for her to be in my office. In my safe.”

  “Did you ask her?” My voice sounded small even to me.

  “Yes. She didn’t deny what she was trying to do.” His face darkened and his lips pursed. As fast as his expression had change it was back to normal just as quick. He squeezed my shoulders then let go. “Angela will start looking for a replacement immediately.”

  “No,” I said, surprising myself.

  “No?” Dad and Angela echoed each other.

  “I’ll do it.” My heart broke, but I didn’t want to go through this again. Staff didn’t last long at Westbrook Manor. I’d made the mistake of getting attached to Joanne, even when I knew better. She listened to me, unlike anyone else around here. It would be easier to just not deal with it again. “We can hire a maid service once a week. We already send the laundry out. Groceries can be delivered. If we need to cater an event, we can hire a caterer.” I shrugged. “You’re never here anyway. I’ll take care of myself.”

  “Rachel, that’s not necessary.” Dad glanced at Angela. “I can have Angela find someone—”

  “I got this, Dad.” I leaned back against Adam, needing his support more than I wanted to admit. His fingers squeezed my hips.

  Dad nodded, but I knew that wasn’t the end of the conversation. “Angela’s coming with us today.”

  I pressed my lips into a thin line, but I didn’t argue. Not if I wanted to win the other argument and basically get the house to myself. I’d been alone long enough anyway, why not let me do everything around here? Plus, maybe it would keep Angela out of the house more. I could press that issue, too. When the time was right.

  “Let’s go,” Dad said, letting fake cheer enter his voice. “Adam, do you have clubs?”

  Adam shook his head. “No, sir.”

  “No problem, I loaded an extra set into the Range Rover.”

  Dad lead us out to the garage. My Mercedes was parked at the far end by the Rover. I twirled my keys in my hand. He wanted us to ride with him, but I had other plans. We passed Dad’s Audi, Tesla, and Roadster, and Angela’s BMW. I hated that she had a spot in our garage, in our lives. Part of me wanted to ride with them so that I could stop Angela from inserting herself further. My gut instincts told me she would manipulate Dad into letting her move into the long empty suite above the garage and take over everything. Like hell that was going to happen. I needed to be away from both of them. That was more important at the moment. I needed to have a rebuttal to her argument.

  I opened the driver’s door and Dad’s eyebrows rose. He nodded once, acknowledging my need to be away from him. Dad and I always communicated easily. He knew me better than anyone, and he knew what I was thinking. The one thing I could always co
unt on was that he would have my back. After what went down my freshman year, he was the only person I truly trusted.

  Dad and Angela pulled out of the garage and I followed. Adam ran his hand along the dash. The music blared from the speakers, blocking any chatting. I wasn’t in the mood for chatting. He turned the volume down. Apparently, he was.

  “You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

  I smiled at him and reached for the radio, cranking it higher than it was before. Guitars and drums drowned out any chance I’d hear anything else he would say.

  Life was spinning out of control. What was wrong with me? I’d kept everyone at arm’s length for years. The last few months, my walls cracked. I liked Joanne. She listened to me. She didn’t judge me. She made me my favorite foods and taught me to cook. Just being around her made me a little happier. It was nice to have a woman around I could talk to. Then there was Adam. I liked him more than I should. But had I made the same mistake with him that I made with Joanne? Had I started to trust him? I shook my head at my own internal monologue. I knew the answer. No, I didn’t trust him. I wanted to though. That stopped today.

  We pulled into the parking lot of the club. I made sure to park next to my father, a united front against the world. That was the Westbrook way. Smiling like there wasn’t anything better in the world than a game of golf, I got out of the car and rounded the back of the Rover. Dad stood there, pulling out my clubs. Angela tapped on her phone beside him.

  “What about Hamilton?” she asked.

  “What about him?” Dad handed over my clubs and reached for the next set. He’d only packed three.

  “Aren’t you playing, Angela?” I asked sugary sweet.

  She glanced up at me. “Not today.” She went back to her phone. “He’s going to be a problem,” she added toward my father.

  Dad snorted. “Angela, your job isn’t to tell me how to do mine. Just do what I tell you.”