Finally Found

There was that moment when she woke up and stretched and she had to pause and think about where she was. Normally, when she stretched, she could touch the ceiling above her in the loft. It was…cozy. She liked snuggling up against the railing. She liked slinking down under the covers and feeling the wall with her feet. It was security. Now, as she opened her eyes slowly struggling to wake up while being assaulted by the sun pouring in through the gauzy curtains, she fought to remember for a moment just where she was.

Ah, yes. She reached for her phone on the nightstand. She didn’t have one of these at home. According to her cell, it was only 8am. On a Sunday. And she had been in bed roughly four hours. Why in the world was she already awake? She lay still and listened. As unfamiliar as every aspect of the room had been, there was one very familiar, very welcome sound in the distance. And the smell was both welcome and easily recognizable. Good morning, coffee!

“Come to me, lover,” she all but purred as she imagined drinking a nice steaming cup. There was no better way to jump start a day. Only when she opened her eyes again after one especially delightful stretch, Adam was hovering over her with a bed tray.

“Good morning, Cammie. Coffee, made just like you claim to be…light and sweet.” He leaned in and whispered, “Clearly you are a real blond, so you know which part I’m still doubting, right?” He chuckled.

That had her gripping the covers around her. He knew she was a real blond? He must have seen the panic on her face.

“Your eye brows and eye lashes,” he explained. “They never lie. Here,” he said as he set the tray around her. “You really need this. And I wasn’t sure what you normally ate, so I brought a selection.”

She stared at the tray while he propped up pillows behind her back. What the hell? Who was this guy? He was nothing like she had seen, imagined, or heard. He was…nice. “Are you still trying to charm me into bed?” She glanced at him with tilted head, trying to figure him out. “I may already be in bed, but there’s little chance of you joining me.”

“Why are you so determined to ruin this morning? Can’t you just say ‘thank you, Adam?’ I woke up from what was essentially a nap, went to the market and picked all this stuff up…” He was about to continue when she interrupted.

“You don’t have a car. And last time I checked you didn’t even have a bankcard or wallet. Your brother wiped you out. Or was all of that a lie?” She narrowed her eyes.

He cleared his throat and seemed nervous. “No, that was the truth. This morning was…an exaggeration. I always keep some emergency cash here.” He glanced down at her. “I was a boy scout.” She rewarded him with a half smile. “And saying I called the market for a delivery doesn’t quite hold the same punch as me somehow going there myself.” He threw his hands in the air. “I give up. Let me know if the aforementioned after effects of the coffee kick in.”

She looked at him utterly confused. “What?”

“Come talk to me when you are ready to be nice,” he said from the hall. And with that, he shut the door behind him.

Cammie studied the tray. Everything was plated beautifully. The market couldn’t have done that. There was a selection of bagels and pastries, a bowl of freshly prepared fruit salad with honeydew, cantaloupe, pineapple, strawberries and grapes in it. There was every breakfast condiment known to man…butter, jelly, cream cheese, sugar in a dish and cream in a mini white ceramic pitcher. There was even a copy of the Sunday paper in the side pocket of the tray. Damn. She was going to have to eat her words. She was going to have to be nice and apologetic. Damn. Damn damn damn. Well, this was no way to end a weekend or start a day. She leaned back after preparing a steaming mug of coffee…just the way she liked it. Her hands were wrapped around it. She liked the fit, and the way the warmth was spreading inside and out. He had even fluffed her pillows.

She sighed.

By the time she was on her second cup, she was beginning to feel more normal. By the time she had eaten a Cheese Danish, and most of the fruit salad, she was beginning to feel happy. And by the time she had taken a long hot shower, dressed in fresh clothes from her backpack and applied her moisturizer with SPF and her favorite lip-gloss, she felt ready to face the world. Of course, since Adam was the only one around, he would have to suffice.

After making the bed and packing up her belongings, she headed out of the room. She paused for a moment to survey it from the hall, partially to ensure she hadn’t left anything behind, but mostly to try to remember every aspect of the room later. Cin would want to hear all about it for sure. Yes, this was most definitely her baby sister’s cup of tea. Of course, after the way she left the party so abruptly the night before, she was probably going to be suffering from the silent treatment for a good long time so that discussion would have to wait. With Thanksgiving only days away, that could make for one long and miserable holiday. Why did she not think of these things in advance? As much as she was prepared for practically any situation, she never seemed to have the foresight to think through the result of her impulsive actions.

To her surprise, Adam was sitting in the great room reading his own Sunday paper as she entered. Since she had one in her hand that had come with her tray, she couldn’t help but blurt out the first thought that came to mind upon seeing him. “You bought two!?”

He sighed before even closing the paper or looking at her. Cammie realized she probably deserved that. “Well, since I couldn’t guarantee that we would be eating in the same room, I thought it wise to have two copies. You like your coffee in the morning and I like my newspaper. It’s part of my morning routine.” He raised an eyebrow at her, challenging her to find fault with his explanation.

She knew that look well. Her father always used it with her mother. Every single time her mother caved and would melt into his arms. She had asked about that once. She remembered her mother’s explanation vividly ever since. She always said that she knew her father was The One out of all the many men she dated because it was simply impossible to stay mad at him. Cammie, though she looked remarkably like her mother, rarely dated. She had yet to find a guy that she couldn’t stay mad at.

“You know,” he said seriously, “you are making this do-over really challenging.” After making that remark, he simply stared at her and waited for a response.

It was her turn to sigh. She walked over and sat in the chair across from him. She dropped the bag to the ground, set the tray and newspaper on the coffee table. At the moment, she was at a loss. She really didn’t know what to say. Her plan was simple. She was going home, back to her teeny tiny cozy apartment in a lousy part of the city where she felt amazingly comfortable and safe. There she was going to work on studying. She had projects due at the end of the semester. Though she was technically on break, this was the perfect time for her to get ahead. After all, come the first of the year, she was opening her own catering company. She had no clients yet, but the good news was that the project she had to complete as part of her MBA was a business plan. She would have everything all figured out. She would be ready to launch. This was her dream and she was ready to make it happen. Her days of wearing a bustier or a clown nose or cowboy boots or anything else that was costume related…well, they were officially over.

“Adam,” she began quietly, “I’m not sure what you had in mind, but I’m not your usual conquest. I have a life I need to get back to. I have work to accomplish. I can’t stay here and entertain you indefinitely. And I most certainly am not going to sleep with you. So, that should help your interest wane, right?” She knew that at the moment, she looked utterly defeated. She was still tired, dreading the drive, and eager to get back to work on this daunting task ahead of her.

He leaned back and brought a hand up to his mouth. She would begin to recognize that as his thinking pose. What was he thinking? Slowly he leaned forward with his hands together, rested on his thighs. “Listen, I know that I asked a lot of you last night. I know that I wasn’t entirely honest with you from the start…”

“Pffft! Entirely honest! When were you honest at all?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I told you that I needed a ride…” He said weakly. “Can we just focus here?” She could tell he was waiting for her to respond, so she reluctantly nodded. “Okay, well, my situation hasn’t changed much.” He sighed. “I have a week until my brother will even discuss firing that bimbo playing home health nurse.” She smirked at that. “And he still has my identification, my keys, and pretty much everything that would make my life simple and less complicated at the moment, right down to my phone.”

“I understand that. It’s not like you are in desperate need any more. I’m sure that you can very comfortably hide out here for the rest of the week.” She moved to stand. “I have a life to get back to. I have…”

“Yes, we have already established this. You have a life. You have things to do. Please, tell me about all these many things that are so important to you. Really. Sit.” He gestured for her to sit down once more.

Cammie glanced at the time on her phone. “Listen, not that you would understand, but we don’t all have parents who build up a fantastic company and leave us with built in careers.” She winced a bit when she finished saying that. Maybe he wouldn’t pick up on it. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

“Okay. So what do your parents do?” He looked at her seriously. And she knew he really had no idea.

Laughing, she responded, “They have a little birthday party business. The Party People. Maybe you’ve heard of it?” She asked smirking.

“Didn’t they do my party last night?” Now he was smirking, too. “What did you do to piss off your parents?” He was smiling widely now.

And so was she. “So what makes you think that they are upset with me?” She was smiling in spite of herself.

“They stuck you in a hot pink bustier behind the bar with a bunch of horny 30 year old men. The alcohol was nearly limitless…”

“About that…for some reason…some of the guests were under the impression that we were out of liquor?” She eyed him suspiciously.

Scratching his head, he mumbled, “Yeah. I may have had a little something to do with that. I needed them to leave. And nothing kills a party full of a bunch of people only interested in free liquor like being out of free liquor. If it hurt sales in any way, I’ll make it up to your family just as soon as I get back to my loft.”

She chuckled. “That’s funny. I love it.” She was actually beginning to enjoy this conversation.

“So, your parents wouldn’t let you stay on in the business?” He was genuinely curious.

She shook her head. “Au contraire. They would love to keep me on. The problem is that they want to keep me on in a different capacity than I want to be kept on. Did I tell you I’m almost done with an MBA from Columbia? I want to go a different direction. I don’t just want to do birthday parties. I want to do catering, true catering. And they wouldn’t agree to expand. I mean, The Party People. The name would still work, but they didn’t think they could handle the expansion. I am going to school for this. I could handle it, but they wouldn’t even discuss it. So…I gave them my notice…and they gave me a bustier.” She sighed. “The party this afternoon promises to be worse. It’s a Circus Circus themed party. And I will be the clown responsible for making balloon animals.”

“And when you say that you’re the clown, it isn’t a figure of speech? You are going to be an actual clown?” He covered his mouth as he tried to hide the laughter that was clearly welling up inside of him at the moment.

Sighing, she responded. “Laugh it up, big guy. Yes. The costume is horrendous. Oh, and the wig. Let’s not forget the nose! On the bright side, we’ll be indoors. If it were spring, summer, or even earlier in the fall, we would have been in a circus tent. I’ve been this route before. Is it any wonder that I want to stick to catering? I want to pull my hair into a bun and thrown on a chef’s jacket, or a business suit. I don’t want to do all this themed crap. I think the Memoirs of a Geisha party was probably the worst. Socks and those crazy wooden sandals. Hot heavy wig with makeup positively caked on my face. No speaking. No smiling…”

Her phone rang. “Sorry. It’s my mother. Since the party is only hours from now, I need to answer. She may need me to pick something up.” With that she strode from the room while answering the phone.

Though she was only gone a few minutes, Adam was used to thinking on his feet. He was used to formulating plans. It was pretty much his thing. He could see how much it meant to her that she no longer dress up for these birthday parties. He could see how much she wanted to go her own way, despite having the chance to enjoy the family business if she was only willing to lower her standards. Instead, she was determined and driven to do her own thing. She was pretty special. Lucky for her, he could help. Luckier for him, he could bargain like his life depended on it, because in this instance it really kind of did.

She was smiling and looked more relaxed when she walked back into the room. She was light on her feet, practically floating on air. Her hair, which had moments before been up in a ponytail, was now hanging in big bouncy curls past her shoulders. Something had definitely changed.

“The party is canceled! The kid has the flu!” She was all but giddy as she spoke. Then it was as if she realized how bad that sounded. “Um, I’m not happy the kid is sick, but now I might not have to do the party at all! I may never have to be a clown again!” She sighed happily as she sank back down in the seat. Her relief was evident. Her happiness was contagious. He just smiled looking at her.

“Great! Now you have all the time in the world to tell me about your catering dreams.” He crossed his hands behind his head and prepared to listen.

“I swear you are just trying to trick me into staying longer. And seriously, I don’t have time. This cancellation was a gift. I must use this time wisely. Gotta go!” She stood, grabbed her bag, and started to walk away.

“What if we make a deal?” He called after her. “What if I give you a free ad campaign for helping me this week?” And he waited. The Davenport Agency carried a lot of weight. If word began circulating that he was endorsing and working with a new catering company, he knew she was bound to be wildly successful as long as she didn’t suck. The people who would hire her, well, they were his people. They had money. They held parties all the time. No really. All. The. Time. He rarely had a weeknight or weekend that he didn’t have some sort of opportunity to eat for free, if he could just stomach the company while some stranger had a hand on his wallet. He never realized how many charities there were until he came of age and was labeled as a rich eligible bachelor.

The footsteps came slowly. He heard them, the pitter patter of her tiny feet. He could practically hear the wheels turning as she thought about all the possibility. “Maybe I have just a few minutes to discuss this deal of yours. What do you have in mind?”

He smiled, but not too big. He couldn’t smile like he had won. He had to smile like he was thrilled that she was giving him a chance. That was the one. So he smiled, warmly, sincerely, and made sure that the smug look was far from his face.