Love On My Mind (6 page)

“She lied to him. He doesn’t
know
her.”

The corners of her mouth turned down. “It was for a good reason. She was trying to protect him.”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“Things aren’t that simplistic.”

“Yes, Chelsea, they are. A morally right outcome doesn’t justify the immoral means used to achieve it.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

She shifted away from him. “It must be nice to be clear on everything. To never be worried about ethics or morality.”

“Ethics shouldn’t be an issue. If people spoke their minds, instead of hedging and engaging in double-talk, humanity would benefit.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not the world we live in. Sometimes people do what they do because they don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, even if the options are unpleasant.”

She stared at him and an expression crossed her face he couldn’t decipher. Then she laughed. “How did we get on to such a heavy topic anyway? It’s just a movie.” She grabbed the remote and sank back into the cushions, changing the channel to another program. “We need to chill out. Relax.”

He shrugged and headed back to his desk. He had too much to do to even consider relaxing. Although there were numerous ways he could unwind with Chelsea.

Sex was the top five entries on that list.

He prided himself on his discipline, so it wasn’t long before the data on his computer quelled the distraction of Chelsea’s movements and he lost himself in the challenge of his work. This launch was the most important one of his career. The HPC was a product with global ramifications. Once it premiered, everyone would forgive his company’s previous disastrous rollout. Maybe then, he would, too.

A small rectangle flashed across the top of his central monitor, capturing his attention and breaking his concentration. It was an email from Anya. He hated being pulled from his work, but this close to the presentation he couldn’t afford to ignore any messages from the company. Countless small problems could derail their launch, and he and Mike needed to stem any issues to prevent them from becoming obstacles.

Accessing his email program, he scanned the message from Anya. The success of the
CGR
interview led her to determine he could handle several others. She was informing him that more would be forthcoming.

Shit! He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. This was why he didn’t deal well with people. He’d assumed his answers to the interview meant Anya would cease bothering him about promotions. He’d done what she’d asked, and rather well, so she should require nothing further from him. Instead, she’d seen his achievement as a reason to give him more. And just as egregious was the lack of specificity. What did she consider several? Four? Five? Ten? It made a difference!

The peal of his doorbell dragged him from his mental debate.

Chelsea sat up and swung her legs off the sofa. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No.”

He definitely hadn’t been expecting her.

He stood and walked over to the window. A white county work truck, with black rails and piles of orange construction cones, sat in the driveway.

His chest tightened and he rubbed the spot with the heel of his hand. They’d cleared the road. No reason remained for her to stay. She would leave and he’d find himself alone again. Achingly so. He shook his head and pushed the traitorous feelings away. This was the best outcome. Chelsea’s presence extracted attention he couldn’t spare. Too much was riding on the success of the launch.

He descended the steps into the foyer and opened the front door. A young man, wearing the typical county work crew garb of baggy fluorescent-yellow overalls and thick black boots, stood waiting.

“Road’s clear,” the worker said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

Before Adam could respond, the guy tromped over to the truck. He’d barely shut the passenger door before the truck took off, heading back down the mountain. Adam trudged back to the great room to find Chelsea gathering her belongings.

“They’ve cleared the tree away,” he told her, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I heard.”

So this was it. Would he see her again? When the launch presentation was over and he had more time, would she still be here?

“How long are you staying at the Andersons’?”

“A month. Maybe two.”

Tension eased from his shoulders and they lowered. He nodded, trying to stifle any further outward manifestations of his inner turmoil. “Maybe we’ll run into each other.”

“Do you mind giving me your number?” she asked. “In case I need help or something.”

He retrieved his phone from his desk, engaged the appropriate app, and sent her his information. When she received the data, she looked up from her screen and smiled.

His pulse strummed. “The garage is down the stairs and through the door on the right. Your keys are in the ignition.”

“Thanks. For the car and for your hospitality.”

He nodded and held out his hand. She hesitated before sliding her palm against his. As his fingers closed around hers, his heart hammered against his chest, and he was engulfed with a feeling he couldn’t describe. She stared into his eyes for a long moment before squeezing his hand and turning away.

Then she was gone.

That feeling swept over him again, similar to the sensation he experienced when he finished an invention, but different. Less satisfaction, more melancholy. He rubbed his hand against his chest. Whatever it was, he was confident it would soon pass.

Chapter Six

F
IVE HOURS AFTER
Adam said goodbye to the distraction personified by Chelsea Grant, his mind finally cooperated with his will and turned its full attention to the work he had yet to complete. He needed to be alone and focused. The launch was three weeks away. If he buckled down, and avoided any other interruptions, he could still meet his deadline.

When his doorbell rang, he almost succumbed to a roar of frustration. What now? He pushed away from his computer and glowered out the window.

A steel-gray Jaguar XJ was parked in his driveway.

Fuck.

Adam considered ignoring his guest, but immediately dismissed the notion as futile. Mike was strategic, determined, and persistent. The same traits that made him one of the best COOs in the industry also meant he wouldn’t leave until he’d achieved the outcome he wanted.

Adam took his time descending the steps to his foyer. Opening the door, he found Mike standing on his doorstep, dressed more informally than usual, in khakis, a white collared shirt and a navy half-zip pullover. A partial smile creased the blond man’s countenance while his gaze bounced between Adam’s face and the vestibule.

When a car door slammed shut, Adam’s frown deepened.

What the hell?

He angled his head, glancing beyond Mike’s shoulder. Jonathan, in his familiar uniform of jeans and a T-shirt, strode up the walkway, a large box in his arms.

Adam straightened, rubbed the back of his neck and inhaled deeply through the tightness in his chest. “Is this your way of solving my reclusive tendencies?”

“Is that even possible?” Mike countered, then shrugged. “I’m due for a visit.”

Adam nodded toward Jonathan. “And you thought reinforcements were necessary?”

“The more, the merrier.”

“In whose estimation? Not mine. I’m the recluse, remember?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended,” Jonathan said, coming up behind Mike, smiling widely as he used the box to muscle them aside. The other man always appeared to be smiling, even if his lips weren’t curved upward. “I know this warm greeting is your way of saying you’re happy to see us.”

He winked, shifted the box in his arms, and jogged up the stairs.

“You know I hate sarcasm,” Adam called after him. “And if I were happy to see you, I’d say so.”

“I know,” Mike said, clapping Adam on the shoulder as he, too, entered the house and followed Jonathan up into the great room.

Adam closed the door and leaned his forehead against its cool, smooth surface. A visit from his two best friends three weeks before a crucial product launch? This wasn’t an arbitrary social call. They were here because of his last conversation with Mike but, mentally reviewing the discussion, he could discern no detail that would cause the other man to rush up the mountain, with Jonathan in tow. He didn’t have the time or inclination for this inquest. He concluded his best course of action was to ascertain what they wanted, solve the problem, and send them on their way. Then he could get back to his work.

Climbing the staircase, he found Mike positioned next to his workstation and Jonathan in his kitchen removing supplies and ingredients from the box he’d brought with him.

Jonathan looked up, a wedge of cheese in his hand. “You doing okay?”

Adam shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I’m trying to figure out what I’ve done to deserve the influx of visitors to my secluded mountain home.”

“That’s just it,” Mike said, turning from the desk. “The last time we talked you asked if I’d sent someone here, then abruptly hung up. I called back several times but when I couldn’t get through, I was worried. With us being this close to the launch—”

“You wanted to check on your investment,” Adam finished.

“That’s not fair and you know it.”

Adam met Mike’s gaze, lifting his chin to emphasize his point. His statement may have been harsh, but it wasn’t inaccurate. Computronix was doing well. Their shares had rebounded from the debacle of their last big launch and neither he, nor Mike, wanted to become complacent. The HPC would be a game changer, and, as Mike emphasized yesterday, the growth of the company was dependent upon its success. Adam didn’t doubt Mike’s concern, but he was certain interests other than their friendship had brought the other man to his home.

“So,
was
someone here?” Mike asked.

“It appears I’ve got a new neighbor,” he said.

“How would you know?” Jonathan interrupted. “You’re not the ‘homemade goodies basket, welcome to the neighborhood’ type.”

Adam recoiled. Just the thought sent cold shivers slithering down his spine.

“I met her during the storm.”

“Her?” Mike’s blond brows shot up into his hairline.

“Yes, her. As in, a member of the female sex.”

Mike turned his head slightly. “Are you making a funny?”

“It’s been known to happen on rare occasions,” Adam said, deadpan.

“She must be attractive if you thought her worthy of mentioning,” Jonathan said.

Was she . . . ? “She’s agreeable.”

Mike shook his head. “If it were anyone else, I’d assume ‘agreeable’ was a nice way to say ‘unattractive,’ but with you, it could mean anyone from a plain Jane to Angelina Jolie.”

The sound of heavy steel hitting concrete grabbed Adam’s attention. Jonathan littered his counter with an assortment of tomatoes, a loaf of crusty bread, cream, onions, and several herbs. And the cause of the initial noise?

“Is that a panini maker?”

“Yup,” Jonathan said, shifting the groceries around.

“What are you making?”

“What does it look like?”

Adam leaned against the bar and assessed the ingredients. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup?”

Jonathan nodded. “Your favorite meal.”

“In college. Although you didn’t need all of this”—he indicated the mess with a nod of his head—“back then.”

“I told you he wouldn’t like it,” Mike said.

Jonathan paused, a sharp knife in his hand. “I was twenty-two and working twelve-hour shifts as a line cook in a college town. This is the version we have on our brunch menu. I guarantee you’ll love it.” He grabbed a tomato and swiftly chopped off the end.

“There was nothing wrong with the way you used to do it,” Adam said.

“No. But I’ve changed in the past ten years. I own and operate a three Michelin-starred restaurant. I can’t open a can of soup and slap some cheese between two slices of bread.”

Adam frowned. Change. Everyone appeared to be happy with the concept, but it was hard to view it beneficially when you were the one people always wanted to change.

“Have you given a thought to what’s next?” Mike asked.

“You invaded my space. I’m clueless about your plans.”

Mike shook his head. “Not now. I meant, after the presentation.” When Adam opened his mouth to respond, Mike interrupted. “Theoretically, not practically. The future. Your next step.”

Oh. That clarification altered his reply. “I have several ideas about our next project. Once the launch has passed, I’ll come into the office.”

“You’re moving back to the city?”

Adam’s scalp prickled and the muscles in his shoulders tensed. When he’d mentioned going into the office, he’d meant for meetings with Mike and their senior level staff. Two days, a week at the most. This mountain had become his sanctuary from censure and judgment.

He’d never considered moving back to Palo Alto.

He rolled his shoulders, attempting to loosen up. “No.”

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dude, it was okay when you retreated up here to put your considerable focus into the device. But once it drops, we’re going to need you back at the office.”

“We’ve made this arrangement work for the past eighteen months. Why couldn’t that continue?”

Mike and Jonathan exchanged a long look.

“What?” Adam asked, through clenched teeth. “Even I can tell you have something you want to say to me. What is it you say, Jonathan? ‘Speak your piece’?”

Jonathan set his knife down. “Even after everything that happened, you can’t hide away from—”

“I’m not hiding,” he said, instinctively reacting to that word.

“The HPC is almost done.” Mike took over the argument. “After the launch you’re going to be even more famous than you are now. Your presence will satisfy stockholders. You are Computronix. Confidence in you is confidence in the company.”

Mike made a valid point and yet Adam still believed the problem could be solved without his permanent relocation.

“Fine. I’ll increase the frequency and duration of my visits to the campus.”

“Is this about Birgitta?”

“Mike . . .” Jonathan’s tone contained a clear warning.

Adam’s face heated. “No.”

And it wasn’t, not in the way Mike meant. Adam’s anger wasn’t misplaced grief about their breakup. It stemmed from his failure to prevent his experience with her from affecting his work and his company.

“I’m just saying, you’re better off without her.”

“Speaking of women we’re involved with,” Jonathan loudly declared, “Mike’s been spending a lot of time with Skylar Thompson.”

Mike blew out a noisy breath and shook his head.

Adam turned to Jonathan. “Who?”

“Skylar Thompson. Daughter of Franklin Thompson, the media mogul.” Jonathan’s knife rhythmically struck his cutting board. “How’d you hook up with her?”

“We met at a charity fundraiser.”

“Saw pictures of you both at the opening of the San Francisco Ballet. You looked like the classic golden couple. Is it getting serious?”

Mike shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve surpassed every goal I set in my ten-year plan. The company is doing well, I’m financially able to provide for someone else—”

“That’s an understatement,” Jonathan muttered.

Mike glared at him but continued. “It may be time to think about settling down and starting a family. By the time my dad was my age, he and Mom were already married and pregnant with me.”

That reasoning sounded faulty to Adam. “You honestly believe that you’re bound to the same choices your father made?”

Jonathan nodded. “You do have a tendency to treat your father’s life and words as gospel.”

Adam settled onto a bar stool, his leg bouncing slightly, interested to see if Mike enjoyed having his wounds dissected and discussed.

Mike blinked. “There’s nothing wrong with following in my father’s footsteps. He’s a great man.”

“What worked for your father may not work for you. Men become great when they forge their own path,” Adam argued.

Mike pointed a finger at him, his nostrils flaring. “Fuck you. I could’ve gone to work for my father, but I started Computronix with you.” His cell phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket, stalking over to the windows and grumbling, “Gonna talk to me about forging my own path.”

Jonathan raised both brows and extended his fist for a bump. “That was Machiavellian.”

Adam shook his head. “My behavior wasn’t dishonest. Nothing I said was a lie. If he wants to examine me, he should be prepared for it to be reciprocated.”

“He’s worried about you.”

“I don’t require his concern. Not in that way. I’m not the kid he rescued back at Stanford.”

“Of course not,” Jonathan said, his face devoid of emotion. “You’re one of
People
’s Sexiest Men Alive.”

The laugh started low in Adam’s belly. He laughed so hard his cheeks hurt. He pressed a fist to his lips and attempted to catch his breath. “Will you ever let that go?”

“Not as long as there’s air in my lungs.”

“If I get you running a couple of these mountain trails, we can take care of that.” Adam shifted on the stool and let his arm fall behind its back. “What are you doing here?”

“I believe Mike already explained that,” Jonathan said, chopping tomatoes with a surgical precision Adam couldn’t help but admire.

“Not here in my house. Here in California?” Adam reached in and deftly grabbed one of the chopped tomato pieces, popping it into his mouth. “You said you were researching opening a new restaurant in DC. I thought you were heading out there.”

Jonathan was originally from a Virginia suburb just outside of the nation’s capital and he’d always wanted to open a restaurant in the District.

“I am. But I don’t need to be there until next month. I’ll leave after your launch.”

“That’s not why you’re staying, is it?”

Jonathan stopped chopping, but he didn’t meet Adam’s gaze. “My brother is moving back to DC.”

As long as he’d known Jonathan, his friend didn’t get along with his brother. Which was strange. He couldn’t imagine anyone not getting along with the outgoing and talented chef.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Timothy?”

“Oh, we’ve seen each other. We play nice for my parents when necessary, but . . .” He shrugged. “My mother said he’s met someone and they’re going to settle down near the family.”

Opening a restaurant in DC should be exciting for Jonathan, but he didn’t look or sound enthusiastic. Adam wanted to know more, but struggled to determine what he should ask. After years of friendship, he knew Jonathan. His personality was even-tempered, as opposed to Mike’s more reserved nature. If Jonathan wanted to share more with him, he would. Wouldn’t he? Or was this a situation where Adam needed to show he cared by inquiring further?

It was enough to induce a stress headache. If it were any other people, he wouldn’t bother to make the effort.

“What’s this?”

The question interrupted him before he’d made a decision on how to proceed with Jonathan. Glancing over his shoulder, he spied Mike sitting in his chair, facing the powered-up computer screen. His breath caught in the back of his throat and he hurried over.

“You know I hate when people meddle with my things.”

“I haven’t touched anything.”

“The monitor is on.”

“Okay, I touched the track pad. I wanted to see what you were working on.”

“I’m tweaking code for the HPC.” Adam scowled, remembering . . . “But I may not finish if Anya continues to bother me with pointless tasks.”

“Give the kid a break.”

“Kid is an accurate descriptor. I checked her personnel file. She’s only twenty-four. Why is she working on the most important launch of our company? In the history of personal computing?”