The Fifth Lesson (The Bay Boys #2) (7 page)

Her phone vibrated in her hand quietly.

Adam:
Ready when you are.

With bated breath, she waited until Joseph’s mouse hovered over the gallery’s email program and until she watched him log in with his password.
 
Right when she spotted the inbox pop up, she rushed into his office, trying to appear calm and casual.

He turned his head to the doorway and frowned, as though her intrusion was the worst possible sin on earth.
 
“Yes, Ms. Allaway?”

Clearing her throat, her mind scrambled for something to distract him from his email.
 
The press kit!
 
“Do you happen to have Clive Beaumont’s artist bio on your computer?
 
I’ve looked everywhere for it.
 
I need it for the press kit.”

He grumbled something and his eyes swung back around to face the screen.
 
Christie’s wide eyes immediately focused on his inbox.
 
She saw a long line of her back-up emails, some already opened, and then found the incriminating one at the bottom of the screen.
 
The bolded subject line told her he hadn’t read it yet.

Christie tried to keep her breathing steady but inside she was a complete wreck.
 
Her heart was racing and it was near impossible to hear past the pounding in her ears, the sound of rushing blood.

He clicked out of his email and navigated to his saved documents folder, where all their files were stored.
 
His search would buy enough time for Adam to call.

She texted him while Joseph’s back was turned.

Christie
: Now!

A few breathless seconds later, she heard the gallery’s main line ringing at the front desk.

“Go get that,” Joseph ordered, still searching for the artist bio she’d requested.

He didn’t need to tell her twice.
 
She walked calmly out of his office, but started sprinting once he wouldn’t be able to hear her flats pounding on the ceramic floor.

She practically dove for the phone.
 
“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Adam said, his calm voice soothing her almost instantly.
 
His quiet confidence took the edge off her nerves.
 
She could do this.

Everything would be okay, she realized.
 
Just hearing him, knowing how much he was going out of his way to help her…she’d do anything for him.
 
He was guiding her out of the mess she’d created and she couldn’t be more thankful.

Their plan would work.

“Hi,” she breathed.
 
“Hold on.
 
I’ll go get him.”

She put the call on hold and raced back down to Joseph’s office.
 
She felt a little less flustered…the same feeling she used to get in the middle of a school presentation.
 
Christie would be so nervous right before the presentation and during the first minute or so.
 
But the longer she went on, the longer she spoke, the more comfortable she began to feel.

Joseph was still searching for the bio when she returned.
 
She quietly expelled a long breath, hoping she didn’t sound too winded.
 
“There’s a Mr. Thornton on the phone for you.
 
He says he’s interested in donating to the gallery.”

He didn’t look up.
 
In a bored tone, he commanded, “Transfer him to me then.”

Like a needle scratching on the surface of a record, her plan came crashing down around her.

Shit!
 
Why didn’t she think about that?
 
Of course he’d request the call to be transferred to his office phone.
 
He was an overweight, lazy bastard.
 
He wouldn’t want to make the trek all the way to the front of the gallery to take a call.

Lie, Christie
, her mind screamed.

“Um, well, I took a call this morning and there seemed to be trouble with the phones.”

She swallowed audibly when he turned to look at her.
 
“Excuse me?” he asked, his mouth pinching into an expression of disbelief.

Don’t get flustered.
 
He can probably smell fear.

“I’ll call someone to come take a look tomorrow,” she suggested quickly.
 
He liked not having to do things himself, so she figured her offer wouldn’t hurt.
 
“But I don’t want to try and transfer the call because it might drop.
 
He sounds pretty serious.
 
It would reflect poorly on us.”

“Oh, alright,” Joseph grumbled.
 
Relief crashed down on Christie in waves as she watched him heave himself off his chair.
 
He leaned over and exited out of his email program like she figured he would.
 
The man was definitely paranoid.

She pretended to follow behind him until she reached the door of her office.
 
She made sure he’d rounded the corner out to the main floor before she walked swiftly back to his office.

Adam had yet to send her Joseph’s password, but the man must’ve read her mind because her phone dinged with the information right when she sank down into her boss’ chair.

Christie reopened the email program quickly and entered the username and password.
 
She kept her ears open for any sign of Joseph’s heavy footsteps, but all she could hear was his fake, cheerful voice in the front of the gallery.
 
He always did suck up to potential donors.

She spotted her incriminating email—she even opened it just to be sure—and quickly checked the box next to it.
 
She hit delete with vigor.
 
Then, she journeyed into the trash folder to delete it as well, just in case he stumbled upon it by accident.
 
She and Adam hadn’t worked this hard just to have their plan foiled.

Christie made sure to log out and close the email program.
 
Jumping out from the chair, she quickly crossed to the door of the office and poked her head out.
 
Joseph was still on the phone with Adam, so she ran to her own office.
 
The moment she sunk into the chair, she felt a huge burden lift off her shoulders.

Their plan had worked.
 
It had
actually
worked.

She was so delighted that she didn’t know whether to celebrate or cry.
 
Never again would she send emails drunk.
 
She’d learn this lesson the hard way.

Remembering that Adam was still on the phone with her boss, she sent him a quick text.

Christie:
I’m done.
 
You can hang up now.
 
Call you in a little bit!

A few minutes later, Joseph came grumbling past her office door.
 
“Just another stinking rich man thinking he can waste my fucking time,” he muttered under his breath.
 
But Christie heard and she tried to stop the smile that erupted on her face.
 
He stopped to harass her for a few seconds.
 
“Take all the calls from now on.
 
I have a lot to get done.
 
And I expect that press kit by three.”

She carefully composed her features so she showed no emotion whatsoever.
 
“Of course.”
 
He stomped down the rest of the hallway.

Christie broke down into a fit of soft, almost hysterical, giggles when she heard Joseph’s door slam shut.
 
She didn’t brother reminding him about the artist bio; she hadn’t needed it anyway.
 
And it would only serve to irritate him further.

She immediately shut her office door and picked up her cell phone from its place on the desk.
 
She scrolled to Adam’s contact information and called him.

“Hey,” he greeted when he picked up.
 
He sounded like he was smiling that mischievous smile of his.
 
Christie could hear it in his voice.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe it worked,” she breathed into the phone, making sure to keep her voice quiet.
 
But the happiness in her tone couldn’t be concealed.
 
“Adam, I can’t even begin to thank you.
 
I’d be fired by now if it weren’t for you.
 
And you were
so
right about those back-up emails!”

She went on to explain everything that happened during her eventful and stressful morning and by the end of her tale, Adam was chuckling.
 
The sound was so wonderful that Christie paused to soak it in.

“Good.
 
I’m glad everything worked out so smoothly,” he said.

“What did you say on the phone to keep him busy for so long?”

“Well, I may have Googled ‘how to donate art to a gallery’ before I called and did some other research.”

Christie laughed.
 
“Olivia’s right.
 
You
are
adorable.”

“Yeah, well,” he sounded a bit uncomfortable and Christie realized that, given what he wanted in return for his help this morning, it probably hadn’t been the best thing to say.
 
“Hopefully we can change that soon.”

“Adam,” she started, but he cut in.

“Are we still on for seven tonight?”
 
He obviously didn’t want to talk about it.

Adam may be adorable, but she’d also masturbated to fantasies of him last night.
 
He didn’t realize how sexy he was.
 
He drove her absolutely crazy.

“Yes,” she replied softly.

“Good.
 
I’ll have dinner ready in case you’re hungry.”

Her heart fluttered again.
 
A man had never made her dinner before.
 
Andrew certainly hadn’t.
 
“That sounds wonderful.”

“I’ll see you later.
 
And, uh, I’m glad everything worked out,” he told her.

“Me too.
 
Bye, Adam.”

When they hung up, Christie stared at the phone in her hand.
 
She was excited for tonight.
 
But she wondered how far Adam wanted to take things.
 
Would they be splitting up their ‘lessons’ for a few days, a few weeks?
 
She didn’t know.
 
All she did know was that he didn’t want to have sex…at least with her.
 
Christie had a sneaking suspicion that he’d use her lessons to seduce another woman.
 
Was there another woman he already had in mind?

She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that yet, but if the sour taste in her mouth was any indication, then she might be in trouble.

SEVEN

Adam cursed under his breath when the towel slipped away from the scorching glass pan, searing his index finger.
 
His glasses fogged up as the pan clattered noisily back into the oven.
 
Luckily the contents didn’t spill.

“Adam!” his mother chided in his left ear.
 
He pressed the phone to his shoulder so he could use both hands as he readjusted the towel.
 
“Language.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.
 
He pulled the pan out successfully this time and set it down on the stovetop to cool.
 
Despite the near disaster, Adam was actually a pretty good cook.
 
He’d never even touched a skillet or a spatula when he’d been growing up—his family had hired cooks for that—but in college, he’d had to learn quite quickly.
 
Packaged, dry noodles with sodium infused seasoning had somehow never appealed to him like it had to his college peers.

He glanced at the clock.
 
Christie should be here any second.

“Mom, I have to go.”

“But I’ve only been on the phone with you for a couple minutes!” she protested, her tone on the edge of being whiny.
 
“Talk to me while you eat dinner.”

Blowing out a calming breath, Adam ignored the guilt that started to accumulate.
 
“I would.
 
But I’m not eating alone tonight.”
 
There.
 
That should brighten her mood.

As expected, she screeched happily in his ear.
 
“Oh, Adam!
 
Is it someone special?
 
Is it serious?
 
Are you going to give me grandchildren soon?”

“Mom, calm down,” he bit out between clenched teeth.
 
“She’s just a friend.
 
So, don’t expect anything.”

“You’ll have to invite her over for dinner when you come see us next,” she suggested, ignoring him.
 
He wondered how many pills she’d taken today.
 
“If you
ever
come,” she added, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

Guilt stabbed at him again.
 
But for the millionth time in his adult life, he had to remind himself that he had his own life to live and that his parents led separate ones.
 
It wasn’t his sole responsibility to ensure his mother’s happiness, not when he was trying to achieve his own.

“She’s just a friend,” he repeated sternly.
 
“Don’t start planning a wedding.”

“How about Thursday?
 
Does Thursday work for both of you?
 
I can have Charlie prepare his salmon.
 
Remember how much you enjoyed his salmon?
 
It was your favorite dinner growing up.
 
And Charlie misses you so much!
 
Yes, I think I’ll have him do that.
 
But I’ll need to let him know soon so he can adjust the week’s menu.
 
Let’s say six o’clock?”

Jesus
.