Rebound (22 page)

I
lean up on my arm and stare at Ali who’s, unsurprisingly, monopolizing the bed, and brush the back of my fingers along her shoulder.

She stirs awake. “Hi,” she says, smiling.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Her eyes darken—reflecting the need she must see on my face. I run my hands down her body and love the way she watches me, surrenders to me. I could explore her forever, and I tell her that between kisses. How I can’t get enough of her. It’s been a night of this, our bodies always connected. Over and over, we’ve driven each other over the edge, but we’re both still starving. We can’t get enough of each other.

“Adam, please,” she says, taking me into her hand and guiding me home. She’s ready for me, warm silk, and as I sink deep inside
her, as she arches her back like even this closeness, us joined together, isn’t enough, I don’t see how that could ever change. When she shudders in my arms, my name on her lips, nothing else compares. Nothing in the world has ever felt this good or this right.

Eventually, we make it into the shower together. I notice she’s not wearing her “A” earrings.

“Ali,” I say, rubbing my thumb over her earlobe. I can’t stop looking deep into her eyes now. They’re so pretty. They’re so gentle and intelligent and . . .
good
. “Did you lose them?”

“No.” She shakes her head and her smile fades. “They were a gift from my father.” The finger that’s been tracing the lines of my tattoo stills. “He gave them to me after . . . after I caught him. And I just can’t wear them anymore.”

I’m already thinking about buying her new ones. Better ones. More carats. Maybe spell her entire name out in fat diamonds. Or maybe a horse, because I know that would make her happier. Yeah, I’m buying her a horse. The best one I can find.

“About today, Adam,” she says. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about before the party.”

That reminds me. It was close to one in the afternoon when we got in the shower and the party starts at two—which means my employees will probably be knocking on my door any minute.

“Can it wait? Because we only have a little while, and there are other issues I’d like to attend to first.”

Ali smiles. “Ah, yes. Pressing issues.” She wraps her arms around my neck, bringing her sleek, perfect body to mine. “Okay. Let’s address those first.”

Ali takes my car to drive home. Her hair is tied in a damp knot on top of her head, in her red dress, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything hotter than that—then her smiling at me from inside my Bugatti as she carefully backs out of my driveway.

“Come on, Quick!” I shout. “Let’s see what you got!”

She laughs and rolls her eyes at me, and makes the most adorably slow trip up my street, using the turn signal and everything as she disappears around the corner.

Jesus. I’ve got it bad.

I shave and pull on some sand-colored jeans and a button-down. I find myself rushing, and I realize it’s because I want to get back to her.

The doorbell rings. When I answer, my quiet street resembles a busy parking lot. Rhett smiles at me. Pippa, Paolo, Sadie. Mia and Ethan. Brooks and Cookie. The guys from accounting. My entire IT department. Everyone’s congregating on my driveway.

My eyes travel to my brother, who’s next to Brooks. Grey was supposed to be in San Diego for his gig.

“Brooks texted me this morning,” Grey says, shrugging, like it’s no big deal that he’s missing something I know he was excited about. “I wanted to see this.”

This
—which is the crystal-clear message my team is sending me by being here.

Quick might have my company, but their loyalty is still with me.

We arrive in a caravan at the Quicks’ estate. Graham has spared no expense, and the lavish grounds are perfect for a party. Fresh flowers are planted everywhere and fill huge vases on every table. There are string lights on every tree and servers in tuxedos carrying trays of wine, champagne, and hors d’oeuvres wander around.

My employees and I wind up by the pool, where a live band plays on the expansive courtyard to the right. The day is bright and sunny, unseasonably warm for this time of year. We get drinks, and settle into the party, which is a mixture of my people and Quick’s.

I haven’t seen Graham yet or his wife, but I’m not anxious. I’m ready to see him. I’ll learn to work with him, for my employees and
for Alison. There’s no anger inside me now, even though he’s taken so much from me. I have no room for it.

How can I be angry, when Sadie and Pippa are freaking with Grey—who looks way too comfortable with the situation? How can I be angry, when I see Raylene and Rhett curled against each other on a lounge chair? Mia and Ethan laughing, in their own little world. Philippe and Paolo talking like they’ve been friends for a decade. Brooks and Cookie in a deep conversation, which . . . is a surprising mismatch, to say the least.

As I look around me, anger is not a possibility. It just isn’t. I’m lighter now that Chloe’s parents and mine know the truth. And I have Ali in my life now.

Once again, I scan the party for her. Where is she?

Arms wrap around me from behind and squeeze. “Found you,” she says.

I pull her close, wrapping my around her. “What took you so long?” I see what she’s wearing—a black miniskirt and a tight tank top—and bend by her ear. “How about you show me your bedroom?”

She smiles and brushes a kiss on my lips. “Later.” Her gentle blue eyes are surprisingly serious and focused. “First, there’s something we need to do.”

W
hat’s that?” Adam asks, giving me a warm, inviting look. It makes me smile to see him relaxed and joking with the Boomerang staff—who remain nearby, having fun but with the vigilance of bodyguards. They’ve rallied around him.

“Come with me,” I tell him, and take his hand.

“So, you
are
going to give me the bedroom tour?”

I grin back at him. “I’m going to give you something even better.”

He lets go of my hand and seizes me around the waist, pressing in close. His fingers skim the band of skin between my tank top and the waist of my skirt, and I shiver. “I’m pretty sure there’s nothing better than last night.”

“And this morning,” I remind him.

“And tonight.”

“Come on,” I say, and tug him along. We wind through pockets
of partygoers, and I grab a dodge around a caterer carrying a tray of mimosas, running into another with a tray of Bloody Marys.

“Take one,” I tell Adam. “You’ll need it.”

“What about you?”

I shake my head. “I’m giving it a rest for a bit. But you go ahead.”

“You know what? I’m fine. I’ve made peace with all this.” And I can see he has, that he’s made peace with so many things. He still has the bright intense energy of the boy I faced off with in the offices of Boomerang, but without the sharp edge to it. I realize we’ve become the people we pretended to be on Halloween night, and I stop and give him a kiss to celebrate.

“We do have a destination, right? Because at this rate we’ll be old before we leave your patio.”

I laugh and pull him over the threshold into the house. People have gathered in the kitchen and in the family room. I say my hellos, anxiety swelling in me. This has to go just right.

Before we enter my dad’s study, I turn to Adam and kiss him one last time.

“What’s up, Ali?” he asks, his gray eyes searching mine.

“Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation, he nods. “With everything.”

“All right, then. Come on.”

I push open the door. Inside, my mother and father sit on opposite ends of the sofa. My father, who should be basking in his victory, looks edgy, uptight. And my mother, who is about to do the bravest thing of her life, looks twenty years younger—almost glowing in a trim navy sundress with dangling silver earrings.

My father glances up, and his gaze levels at our joined hands, at what must be the unmistakable energy between Adam and me. His expression darkens, but it doesn’t reach me. It’s like one of those days on the water, when the sky is overcast and foreboding but the rain never comes. And even if it does, I won’t mind, and I won’t be afraid.

“Now do you want to tell me what’s going on, Vivian?” my father asks. “Are we putting on some kind of show here?”

Adam looks at me, equally confused.

“Sit down,” I tell him, and lead him over to the leather wingback chair by the fire—my favorite.

“We need to get back outside,” my father says, eyes darting between us. He’s calculating, I think, working on damage control, though he doesn’t know yet what form the damage will take. “We have eighty guests here.”

“Oh, they’ll be fine,” my mother says. “This won’t take a moment.” She looks at me and gives me a subtle nod.

“So, here’s the thing, Dad.” I take Adam’s hand. “You’re not going to take ownership of Adam’s company.”

My father crosses his over his chest and regards me with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, I’m not?”

“No. Because you know those partnership papers you signed?” He and Adam both nod. “Well, your shares are about to be cut in half,” I tell him. “Which means you’ll only own twenty-five percent of the company.”

“And how the hell do you plan to pull that off? Some kind of magic trick?”

“No,” my mother says and reaches beside her for a fat package of documents. “More of a
legal
trick.”

She pulls the papers from the envelope and lays them on my father’s lap. He glances and then looks more closely. His mouth gapes.

Plain for all of us to see are the words “Dissolution of Marriage.”

“A divorce?” my father says, tossing the papers onto the coffee table before him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’ve never felt less ridiculous in my life,” my mother says, and I know the feeling. To Adam she adds, “This legal trick being what it is, I’ll own half of my husband’s—my
ex
-husband’s—shares in your company. And I’d be willing to sell them back to you at cost.”

Adam shakes his head. “I’ve got a better idea,” he tells us, and it’s clear he’s already taken in the situation, weighed his options, and settled on a plan. “Keep the shares. They’re going to be worth a fortune. I have a feeling we’ll work well together and that you’ll help me keep my
other
partner in line.”

“I’ll tie you up for years in litigation,” my father says. “This little exercise of yours is pointless.” He leans forward in his chair, face almost purple with rage. “And you,” he says to Adam. “I can still ruin you. I still know all your secrets. Nothing’s changed there.”

My mom chuckles. “Honestly, Graham. You sound ridiculous,” she says. “For one thing, you still own a substantial stake in his company, which makes it against your best interests to give this boy any more grief.”

“Also,” I say. “We know
your
secrets, Dad.”

My father shrugs, but he looks trapped and indecisive, something I never thought I’d see. “So what?” he says. “A few indiscretions. Big deal.”

“More than a few,” my mother says.

Adam glances at me, measuring my response. But I know it all now. And none of it matters. What matters is making things right with him. What matters is pulling free of my father and making my own way.

“And some of them, my dear, show
extremely
poor judgment.” She picks up the envelope again and riffles through it for a moment. Then she shows my father something, another sheet of paper that she keeps carefully turned away from me.

His face grows ashen. “How?”

“I just had to follow the trail of jewelry, Graham,” she says. “One peek at your credit card statements gave me so much to work with. And over the years, it’s given a number of private investigators a lot to work with too. You’d certainly better hope a judge is more generous
about your past mistakes than you’ve been with your daughters. And to Adam here.”

She rises. “I’ll leave this with you,” she says, tapping a nail against the envelope filled with documents. “It was more satisfying to present everything in hard copy, but I’m not so old-fashioned. There’s plenty more where that comes from, in digital form.”

I know a good exit line when I hear one, so I rise too. “You shouldn’t have been such a jerk, Dad,” I tell him. “You don’t have to be, you know. You can be in charge without making everyone else feel small.” I take Adam’s hand again and hold it with both of my own. “I learned that from our new partner.”

Back out in the sunshine, Adam catches me in his arms and swings me off my feet. “Holy shit,” he says. “That was amazing.”

He laughs, and it’s boyish and charming, and he’s so clear in his happiness—like sunshine streaming through spotless glass—that it makes tears spring to my eyes. I don’t bother wiping them away. I’ve got nothing to hide.

“You’re amazing,” I tell him. “I love you, you know.” I didn’t expect to say it, but it’s another thing I refuse to hide. No more masks. Just me, whatever that means. Whoever I become.

He sets me down slowly, and the feeling of his body against mine still thrills me every bit as much as it did that night in the Gallianos’ car. “Love you too,” he says lightly, but his eyes tell me even more. We gaze at each other for a long, long moment, the party fading to white noise around us. “Jesus,” he says, as though struck by everything all over again. “We have to tell everyone.”

“That we love each other?”

“About Boomerang.”

He drags me over to a group that includes Philippe, Paolo, Mia, and Ethan. Philippe gives me a hilarious, smarmy look and I punch him in the arm.

“Shut up,” I say, but I can’t stop smiling back.

Ethan takes in Adam and me, standing side by side, Adam’s arm curled around my waist. I catch his eye, and he gives me a subtle nod and tips his beer bottle in my direction.

Adam gives the abbreviated version of the story, and in no time, the news travels around the party. Somehow, magically, the volume on the music cranks, and my father’s associates seem to fade away, though my mother comes out and holds court under the shade of a covered chaise.

“Dance with me,” I say to Adam and hold out my hand.

His eyes light with memory, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “Is that a question?”

“No,” I say. “Come on.”

He grabs me and pulls me up tight against him. “I’ve got a better idea,” he says.

“Oh, you do?”

“Yes,” he tells me, and his grin broadens. “Let’s swim instead.”

“Really? I—” But before I know it, Adam’s hauled me off my feet to swing me over the pool. I shriek, and the two of us plunge into the water. I surface, laughing, and splash him.

With an ecstatic whoop, Brooks plunges in beside us, followed by Paolo, Sadie and Pippa, Mia, Ethan, and others I don’t know yet—but will. I don’t think I’ll be working at Boomerang after all. I want to talk with Missy about a partnership with Horse Rescue, to help her expand the facility and rehabilitate the broken horses that come into her care. It feels exactly right, and I can’t wait to get started. Still, I know all of these people who’ve come into my life will remain there.

Adam’s brother Grey hollers and does a colossal cannonball, drenching half the people on the deck with half of the pool’s contents.

“Sorry, bro,” he calls, and he has Adam’s same devilish grin, though in a rougher form.

And then it’s a mayhem of splashing and shrieking, laughter and a game of Marco Polo that seems mostly like an excuse for people to grope each other with their eyes closed.

I glide over to a corner of the shallow end, and Adam follows. I wind my arms around his neck and draw him down to me, kissing him, out in the brightness of day, with the cool water lapping around us. I shiver because the water is chilly, but mostly because of everything I feel, which is now, finally,
everything
. I’ve let go of the guilt that’s been dogging me for a year and made room for this. For everything I’ve ever dreamed of and didn’t know I deserved.

“Alison,” he says. His hands travel over my back, and I think how in his element he looks, with water soaking through his shirt, his eyes the same bright almost silvery-gray as the bubbles rising to the surface around us. “You gave me back so much. Not just the company. My life. I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you.”

I rise on my tiptoes, clinging to his strong shoulders, fitting myself to him—perfect.

“We’ll think of something,” I say.