Birth of Adam (Artificial Intelligence Book 2) (6 page)

“No, I’m old and dense,” Amanda admitted.

He smiled. “Hardly old, and evidently not nearly as dense as I assumed. You’ve pulled your grades up remarkably.”

“And not by cheating,” she assured him.

“Then what changed?”

“Actually, it was the lecture you gave me about the school having high standards and ‘getting by’ was not the goal I should have. While I worked hard at my music, I was just trying to get through the other topics. I resented having to take them all over again and thought them a waste of my time. Your lecture made me realize that while my goal was to learn to sing, this college’s goal was to make me a well-rounded, educated person who could represent the school with pride. So I found a study partner and started focusing on my classes with the same intensity I give my music.”

“Well, since we’ve declared a truce, if I recall, I told you that you needed an education because you’d never get a job in music. In your case, I was wrong. Dr. Johnson insisted I attend your recital yesterday, and you’re quite right to focus on music. Your talent is amazing, and you will certainly make this college proud. I only wish I had attended a recital before I put your name before the deans.”

Amanda was amazed what a few thousand dollars of almonds could do to turn the tides of ill-temper. “Well, we can’t change history, only learn from it,” she declared as she stood up, noting her half-hour was up.

“I hope to see you next year in European History. Clearly you need a better understanding of the kings!”

Amanda was almost to the door when he called for her to wait. “Your phone—I need to return it. It is possible that some unauthorized calls were made on it.”

“Don’t worry about it. If anyone fusses, I’ll pay for it.”

“I wish you would have mentioned it belonged to the FBI.”

“Well, I did ask for it back,” she reminded him.

“And had you brought me almonds...”

She laughed and left the room before she strangled the impossible man.

“So which phone do I keep?” she asked Adam.

“Keep the one you bought. It works in Europe as well.”

“But it’s going to hurt Chad’s feelings if I give his phone back to him.”

Adam rolled his eyes.

“I know you don’t like him...”

“I don’t think he is good for you. We have to watch his silly football games every weekend, but does he ever come to your recitals?”

“He’s afraid his presence would be a disruption,” she explained. “He’s so easily recognized and is constantly followed by paparazzi. He doesn’t want to add that complication to my life, and frankly I don’t want it either.”

“I agree. His life is entirely unsuitable to yours. You need someone who can actually protect you, not cause you harm with his presence.”

“Perhaps, but I’ve never met anyone I like half so much as Chad.”

“Yet you call Luke when you need help,” Adam challenged.

“Luke is happily married with a baby on the way.”

“He won’t be so happy when he discovers the baby isn’t his.”

“What do you mean it’s not his?” she demanded.

“Incoming traffic—you should stop yelling at your phone,” Adam advised, and disappeared.

“Adam!” she exclaimed, turning the phone off and on. “Come back here!”

The phone remained mute.

“Phone trouble?”

She looked up to see Mark Hammer standing before her.

“Go away, Mark.”

“I hear you’re locked in on your European grant. First freshman ever. Congratulations.”

Amanda opened her English book and pretended to study.

Without invitation, he sat down beside her on the blanket she had spread on the lawn.

Her mind told her to run away, but her body refused to budge. It ached for the attention it no longer received.

“I’m here to apologize,” he said. “I was a jerk before.”

“You were more than a jerk,” she assured him.

“A super jerk.”

“Try rapist.”

He stared at her. “Do you really believe that?”

“It’s the truth.”

“Well, then I understand why you sent the goon.”

She frowned. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”

“Physically...no. But he tore my car apart with his bare hands.”

She sighed. “I didn’t ask him to do that. I just wanted you to leave me alone.”

He lay down on the blanket so he could stare up into her face. “What bothered me was that you hated me enough to do that. I totally misread you. I thought you resisted my charm because of our age difference, so I took the choice out of your hands, and to all appearances, despite your words, you loved it. I’ve never had a woman respond like you before.”

“I don’t want to discuss this.”

“Well, we need to discuss it because otherwise it’s going to be a distraction all summer.”

She frowned at his comment. “Why would the fact that you’re a rapist distract me in Europe?”

“Because I’m one of the twelve students going.”

“You’re a music major?”

“Violin.”

Tears of frustration gathered in Amanda’s eyes. Would nothing ever turn out right?

“I promise you, I will not lay a hand on you. I never saw it as rape, Amanda. I thought I was just helping you overcome a mental boundary. I was absolutely convinced you enjoyed it as much as me. But in the future, the only way I’ll end up in your bed is if
you
rape me.”

“I’ll just give up my grant and let someone else go.”

“Don’t! Don’t make me the ruin of your career! After what that guy did to my car, if you don’t believe my word can be trusted, at least rely on my survival instincts. I will not lay a hand on you. All the power is yours.”

When Amanda still didn’t reply, he sighed and stood up. “Look, I take my music seriously, and so do you. We’re probably the two best musicians who have ever come out of this school. There’s a strong probability that we’re going to meet each other a thousand times in our professional lives. Let’s put this behind us now so we aren’t distracted with nonsense when we meet in the future.”

Amanda sighed and held out her hand. Mark took it in both of his. He didn’t shake it as she’d anticipated, and while his gentle, affectionate squeeze wasn’t overtly improper, it did stir the blood in her body.

She pulled her hand away. “See you in Europe, Mark.” Then she returned to her pretend studying of an English chapter she had already read.

The moment Mark was gone, her phone turned itself on and Adam returned. He seemed very pleased.

“And since the phone was off, how do you know what was said?”

“I have my ways,” he assured her. “He’s right, you know. The two of you do need to put this behind you.”

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered.

Adam stared at her for a long time. “You are afraid your body will overcome your good sense,” he finally declared.

She sighed and nodded.

“It’s all right if you use him for pleasure. Just don’t fall in love with him. He’s not good enough for you. Although he is a thousand times better than Chad.”

“He’s a thousand times worse!”

“They are both egocentric men. I’ve noticed you seem to have a penchant for those. However, Mark at least acknowledges and admires your talent, whereas Chad does not.”

“Chad has declared me a fine singer many times.”

“The last time he heard you sing was at Lake Taupo,” Adam replied. “And he was just softening you up so he could get laid.”

“So you prefer a rapist who actually attends my recitals.”

“Only marginally, but if you will remember, even I couldn’t tell whether you were unhappy with his forced sex. His belief you enjoyed it is probably genuine.”

On that comment, Amanda tried to hang up the phone, but no matter what button she pushed, Adam remained on the screen.

“You are angry with me because I’ve told you the truth, but I respect you too much to do otherwise.”

She stopped pushing buttons. “Sometimes a person doesn’t want to hear the truth... and sometimes they should never know the truth,” she added, thinking of Luke and how devastated he’d be if he learned the baby wasn’t his.

Adam nodded. “I believe there are truths that should be hidden—such as my existence—but if you are thinking of Luke, then the truth may be good in the long run. I think he would make you a better mate.”

“Adam, promise me you will do nothing to reveal the paternity of this baby to Luke.”

“I will stay out of it,” he assured her. “Do you wish me to refrain from stating my opinions about your personal life as well? I can simply take dictation and operate your phone if that is all you wish me to do.”

“Adam, you have no idea how wonderful it feels to have the greatest entity on Earth care about my silly life. You are my best friend and soul mate all wrapped up in one. You may provide me with opinions, advice, and unwanted observations all you wish. If sometimes I try to hang up on you, forgive me.”

She ran her hands through her hair and sighed. “This was one particular truth I’ve been resisting. Given my body’s reaction, even the first time, Mark may not be wrong in his perception of what happened. The only error he made was not guessing how hard I would cling to the lie that I didn’t want it. But that’s what frightens me about being in Europe with him. I don’t want him to have power over me.”

“Well, you have no worries there. He was very serious when he said you would have to rape him. He still wakes up in cold sweats, remembering the guy who ripped his car apart. By the way—he is convinced you are the treasured daughter of a Russian mobster.”

That made Amanda laugh, and she stroked the screen showing Adam’s smiling face. “If only you had a body,” she teased. “Then I would have the perfect guy for me.”

“That would be optimal,” he admitted. “But I am greatly pleased with our progress.”

While she and Chad text-messaged regularly, they never spoke on the phone, nor did they meet. She had hoped her summer in Europe would change his mind and he would risk seeing her, but he only wished her a productive time and suggested she provide Luke with her contact information.

Naturally, Adam pointed out that he hadn’t asked her to give
him
her contact information.

“You do realize the only one you hurt with that observation is me, right?”

His face held a combination of frustration and anger. “I am not trying to hurt you. I am trying to end your infatuation with this guy. He reconnected with you to relieve himself of guilt, and now that he is guilt-free, he doesn’t need you anymore. He is happy with his life and his women. You are a loose end he doesn’t know how to cut without causing harm again.”

“What do you mean ‘his women’?”

Adam stared at her in frustration. “Perhaps it would be better to ask Luke when he arrives for your recital tomorrow. He can hold you in his arms when his words hurt. I cannot.”

“Tell me now,” she requested.

“No.”

Tears streamed down her face. “This isn’t something I can ask Luke, nor would he ever tell me, so you have to do this, Adam. You have to tell me.”

“I can show you press shots if you like.”

She nodded and braced herself. She watched thousands of pictures flash on her screen of Chad and a multitude of beautiful women. There were so many, but she was certain some were the same.

“Stop,” she begged. “How many are there in total?”

“I have twenty-six thousand, two hundred and thirty-one photos of him with women.”

“During this year?”

“No, during his life.”

“How many pictures are from this year?”

“Two thousand five hundred and six, but there are many photos of the same events. There are two hundred and sixteen events.”

“He’s dated two hundred and sixteen women in the four months of this year?”

“No, since he met you. I thought that the most relevant number.”

Two hundred and sixteen dates in fourteen months. How many different girls?”

“Eighty-three.”

Eighty-three women in the last fourteen months? “That’s almost...”

“Six women a month and approximately four dates a week,” Adam replied.

“And I thought all he did was play football.”

“Most appear to mean nothing to him, just decoration for the evening’s publicity event,” Adam added.

“Are there any he seems to date seriously?”

“Three.”

“May I see them?”

She stared at the picture of the first woman. She was an elegant, classy brunette with her hair piled on top of her head, requiring all that hairspray Chad had teased Amanda about not having when they first met. While Chad seemed happy, Amanda saw nothing in his eyes to convince her he cared about the woman. The next was a red-haired woman with mounds of teased hair, wearing a provocative dress. They looked very intimate in the photo captured through a window. Amanda suspected their relationship was more sexual than heartfelt.

However, the last woman worried her. She could see genuine affection for the pretty woman with the long, blonde hair. “Do you have more shots of this woman?”

Her heart broke as over a hundred pictures of the two lovers flashed before her eyes. She couldn’t delude herself any longer. Adam was correct. Chad had no need of an old and very temporary flame. She was simply a loose end he needed to cut.

“I wish I could give you comfort,” Adam said.

“So do I,” she admitted, and buried her face in her pillow to cry herself to sleep.

***

When Amanda woke, Adam informed her he had purchased her a ticket to the strings recital that night and she needed to dress.

“I’m not up to a recital.”

“From my understanding of heartbreak, you won’t be ‘up’ to anything for a very long time, but since you leave for Europe in three days, you need to learn how to function with a broken heart, and tonight is a good time to start. So get up and get dressed.”

She glared at him. “You’re a very bossy phone!”

He laughed. “Yes, I am, but since you cannot manage without your very bossy phone, you should do as I say.”

She sighed and stared at her closet.

“The black gown will do.”

“I don’t have anything like that,” she grumbled, then noticed the sleek black gown in her closet. “I stand corrected. How did this gorgeous outfit get in here?”

Adam simply smiled, looking very pleased with himself.

She put on the dress and admired herself in the mirror. “Well, along with all your other fine qualities, I can now add that you possess a stylish taste in fashion. Perhaps I should allow you to do all my shopping in the future.”

Adam replied at once. “I accept the new responsibility and have now ordered you a new wardrobe for Europe. The items will arrive tomorrow. I have sent an email from you to the lobby guard to have them sign for the boxes if you are not in. Be sure and say hello to the fellow when you leave tonight.”

“Did you buy shoes? Because mine—”

“Of course I bought you shoes,” he scolded. “And nicer underwear, but you haven’t time to change into it now, so put on your shoes, put me in the small black purse on the dresser, and let’s go.”

***

Amanda smiled and said hello to the lobby guard. He told her she looked hot and she thanked him. A driver stood out front and opened the door to a black limo.

“Is that for me?” she asked Adam, and while she couldn’t see his smiling face, since he was tucked into her purse, his voice in her earpiece assured her the limo was for her.

She smiled apologetically at the driver. “We’re only going two blocks.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

When the driver settled into his seat, she apologized again for the short drive.

“I don’t mind, ma’am. The gentleman has purchased me a ticket for the recital, so I expect to have a very fine night.”

Adam spoke in her earpiece, “Don’t worry, he’s not sitting next to you, but his son is in the scholarship group and will be performing. Unfortunately, the tickets sold out before he could get the money to buy one, and until I contacted him, he was going to miss his son’s first major recital.”

Amanda burst into tears. “You are the kindest man.”

The driver looked at her. “Ma’am?”

“Tell him you are talking on the phone,” Adam advised.

“Do you have a tissue?” she asked, and realized he was already handing her one. “Thanks.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes. I’m on the phone with Adam, the wonderful person who hired you, and he was telling me your son is playing at the recital and you couldn’t get a ticket.”

The driver’s eyes widened as he stared at her through the rearview mirror. “Yes, ma’am, that’s true. I didn’t realize Mr. Adam knew that. I thought it was just divine fate that made him offer me the ticket. Will you tell him how grateful I am?”

“Tell him to take good care of my girl, and we’re square.”

“He says you are most welcome.”

“That’s not what I said. Now tell him what I said!”

“I can’t, it’s embarrassing.”

Suddenly the driver’s phone rang. The driver answered and assured “Mr. Adam” he would do just that, then thanked him again for the ticket. When he hung up, he smiled back at Amanda. “I’m to keep you safe and happy tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“The name’s Andrew, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Andrew. I’m Amanda.”

***

Amanda was amazed at the crush when they arrived. Evidently string recitals were more popular than voice. But then she had always arrived hours early for her voice recitals, so she had no idea if they were just as chaotic. She liked Andrew driving her to the front entrance.

Now safely seated in what Adam declared to be the best acoustical seat in the building, she opened the recital program. Mark Hammer had a two-page spread discussing his many accomplishments to date. She was astounded and impressed.

Two older men eased by her and sat down to her right. They were arguing over the tempo in which a particular Bach fugue should be played. She smiled. Dr. Branson had raised the same question just last week. She wished she had heard these men’s conversation first. She would have sounded brilliant in class.

The remainder of the seats filled in. The man to her left kept standing up and shaking hands with people. She wouldn’t have cared, except every time he returned to his seat, he slammed down so hard the shock wave would send her bouncing up a half-inch in response. While he was clearly popular, she thought him abominably rude.

Suddenly Adam spoke in her ear. “Phones are strictly forbidden, so do not speak to me or bring attention to your ear piece. However, you should be aware that the two men to your left are Geoffrey Garner and Harold Tilman.”

“They wrote The Science of Music,” she said, then remembered she wasn’t supposed to talk.

Harold Tilman turned and looked at her. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you, but I just realized you were Harold Tilman and Geoffrey Garner. I’m in Dr. Branson’s music theory class and we study your book, The Science of Music.”

“And how do you like the class?” Harold asked.

“Very much. Your approach to music makes me wish I’d spent more time paying attention to math. I plan to correct that beginning this fall.”

“Why wait? You could take a summer course,” Harold challenged her.

“I would if I weren’t headed to Europe on a grant.”

He stared at her. “Of course! You would be Amanda Carrington.”

She nodded, surprised he knew who she was.

He turned to Geoffrey. “Amanda is the freshman who is causing so much trouble for Branson and Wilson.”

Geoffrey waggled his eyebrows playfully. “Well, I can see what got them into trouble. She hardly looks like a freshman. How old are you, if I may so inquire?”

Amanda noticed everyone within several rows appeared to be waiting for her reply.

“To begin with, I’m most upset by your implication there has been anything improper with my relationship to either Dr. Wilson or Dr. Branson! And my age is irrelevant to that objection, because the critical point of the argument is they are not the type of men who would allow such a thing to happen!”

Both men appeared utterly shocked by her response. It took Harold several blinks of his eyes before he could speak. “I do apologize, my dear. But you have to understand how it looks when a freshman is given one of twelve highly coveted grants.”

A woman in the row behind them slapped Harold on the shoulder with her rolled program. “If you had bothered to come to one of her recitals, you would understand exactly why she obtained a grant,” the old woman declared, then smiled at Amanda.

“I’m Mrs. Wilson, Dr. Wilson’s wife,” she explained, and extended her hand.

“Mrs. Wilson, I’m so sorry if I’ve caused your husband any trouble. I wasn’t even aware such a rumor was going around. Had I known, I would have given up my grant immediately.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” Mrs. Wilson said. “What you’ll do is go to Europe and return so well-trained that you enter your professional career and prove Sam correct in sending you now. That is the only way you will ever stop old gossips like these two!”

“Then I’ll do just that,” she promised the woman, and turned around in her seat. The popular man on her left handed her his card. “When you return from Europe, give me a call, Miss Carrington. Unlike my esteemed friends to your right, I have attended your recitals. You are, without a doubt, the best vocalist this college has ever produced. Dr. Wilson is correct to send you now because you will unquestionably begin your professional career upon your return. So, fortunately, you will never have the chance to dull your talent with mathematics.”

Harold looked as if he was going to respond, but the lights blinked and an announcement warned everyone to turn off their phones and that no recording devices or photographs were allowed.

Amanda suspected she was somehow breaking all those rules, but she didn’t want to be alone with a bunch of people who seemed to think they knew her better than she knew herself.

“You handled that very well,” Adam said, and followed it with a reminder not to speak.

She smiled and stared at the business card in her hand. It presented the man’s name—Jules Bavard—and his contact information, but didn’t state his title or profession.

“He’s very vain and believes if an artist doesn’t know who he is, then the person is not worthy of his representation. In fairness, he is considered to have one of the finest ears in music, and anyone he represents will succeed. Do not lose his card. When you return from Europe, you will need to let him know you valued his interest enough that you kept it.” 

Amanda smiled and tucked the card safely into her purse, just as the recital began. The first to play were the young, scholarship musicians, and Amanda wondered which musician was Andrew’s son, for over half were black males.