Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
I try to date. I go for coffee with a mild-mannered archivist, to dinner with a charming musician. They are kind, intelligent, and none of them are Adam Valmonte
The money from the Valmonte job sits in my bank account, a ridiculous sum that allows me to be selective, to turn down jobs that don't interest me. I wouldn’t even have to work for a while if I didn’t want to, but I have to stay busy to try and keep him off my mind.
It doesn’t work, of course. He’s on my mind, and all over the media. Adam is inescapable.
I miss him so, so much.
The headlines are baffling. Adam Valmonte Sells Swiss Chalet. Adam Valmonte Steps Down as CEO. Adam Valmonte Skips Met Gala.
What is he doing? Why is he dismantling this life that he built, the same life that intimidated me so much, but obviously meant everything to him?
I'm at a small literary conference in Edinburgh, Scotland, translating for a French novelist who keeps disappearing and leaving me twiddling my thumbs with nothing to do. I spot him chatting over a coffee and decide that if it’s break time for him, it is for me too. I wander to the refreshments table at the back of the large room. Balancing my espresso in one hand, I peruse the delicacies. I pass over the scones and especially the clotted cream. I’ve already added a few pounds, more than enough for now. I pick up a shortbread. I turn and instantly collide into another woman, spilling my coffee onto my blouse. Looking up, startled but apologetic, I make close-range eye contact with the woman.
“Camille!” My breath hitches. “No way…”
“Elowen, Hi!” She motions toward a quiet corner, and I follow her. My head swivels looking to see if Adam is anywhere nearby. But apparently not.
“I did see your name on the poster. But I’m a big fan of his writing. So romantic, but in a French way. So I made the trip. Well, detour, actually. Since Adam stepped down and put me in charge, I can make things like this happen. With his help, of course.” She points across the room, and my head almost unscrews; it turns so fast. I see Oliver juggling a laptop on a rickety-looking table. He smiles and waves toward us, then frowns and looks back into his screen.
“You’re in charge? Yes, I did hear that.’
“Yes. More or less. Adam still keeps an eye on things, but he’s basically handed everything over to me now. He’s just never been the same since Chamonix. And I’m sure you’ve got something to do with it. In fact, I know you have.”
I open my mouth, but Camille continues…
“He misses you, Elowen. You know he loves you, don’t you? Not just loves you but is in love with you, right?
I close my mouth, but widen my eyes, raise the shortbread to my lips. Camille continues…
“He’s been through a lot. Hey girl, you’re lookin’ good. Now, are you free at 3 PM when this wraps? I want to go shopping. You need a new top. I’m sorry, by the way, forgot to say…my bad! Don’t worry, it’s on Valmonte Global. Gotta dash now. Good luck with the next sesh. At 3, OK, right here?”
I wave to her back and blow a kiss to Oliver as he trots after her, clutching his laptop under his arm.
“Whew, I breathe out after the whirlwind leaves me alone in its wake. I take another bite of my cookie, settle, and make my way reluctantly back to the stage.
I’m already bored with this event, and I’m regretting leaving the States for such a bummer of a job when I feel something.
I stand up straighter, pulse kicking up. Trying to keep my cool, I turn in a slow circle…
And then I see him.
Adam is standing there, right where I was standing talking to his daughter just thirty seconds before. He’s wearing a simple sweater and jeans, his hands shoved in his pockets. There’s no entourage or security. Just him. He’s looking straight at me.
I need air. I need space. I need to not be seeing him, because every second I do, I want to throw myself into his arms and tell him how much I’ve missed him and explain myself. But I react as I always do; I flee outside, not even bothering to look for my author to explain where I’m going. I’m just gone.
I find myself in a small, secluded courtyard, the stone walls slick with the constant drizzle. I lean against the rough brick, my head in my hands, simply trying to breathe. It’s not that I think I can escape Adam if he’s determined to find me. I just hope I can gather myself first.
"Elowen," Adam says. It’s too late. He must have been right behind me.