Second Hearts (The Wishes Series) (44 page)

I barely had to think about it. “On a board, paddling so far out to sea that I can’t see the shore anymore, just to prove that I can still do it.”

“So if we were generalising, you’d be at the beach?”

I shook my head. “Not just any beach, a rough beach with thundering waves. A winter beach.”

The elevator doors opened and we stepped out into a small foyer that I’d never been in before. I had no idea what was on the roof level of the Décarie building, but I imagined it had undergone some changes that afternoon.

“Where are you taking me, Adam?”

“I’m taking you home,” he said, quietly. “If only for one night.”

My heart began to hammer as I considered what might be behind the heavy steel door leading out to the roof. “What will it prove?”

He hitched the heavy bag he was carrying higher onto his shoulder and took my face in his free hand.

“It will prove to you that I know you. Even on the days when you’ve forgotten who you are.” I felt hot tears prick my eyes. His thumb brushed the first tear away as it rolled down my cheek. “I’ve been busy lately, Charli, but not oblivious.”

I’d never once told him about the Charli versus Charlotte battle that raged within me. Knowing that he was aware of it brought utter relief. I just needed to figure out which version of me he preferred.

Adam took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door. It took a hard shove from him to open it, but the effort was instantly worth it. It was nothing like the roof of Jean-Luc’s office building. It looked like any other well-maintained patio garden with big potted plants, a few chairs and a big daybed. The difference was that this garden was fifteen stories above street level.

Looking out of place and swamped by the urban setting was a little dome tent, a staged scene that I was familiar with. Adam was a stickler for details. It was a trait inherited from his mother. When teamed with the need for perfectionism that he’d inherited from his father, it became a dangerous combination. It was as if he’d packed up every prop from the night we’d spent camping in Gabrielle’s backyard in Pipers Cove more than two years ago and dropped it on the Manhattan rooftop.

I walked over to the little tent. “How did you manage this?”

He joined two extension cords together, making the string of Christmas lights flash to life. “Well, Mrs Brown shares the same fondness for trashy Christmas decorations as Gabi,” he said, smiling as I looked back at him. “She lent them to me.”

“Is there a slide show tonight?” I asked, glancing around for a screen.

“Not tonight. I think I’ve managed something even better.”

“Really?” I asked gleefully. “What is it?”

He walked past the tent to the far corner of the roof. “Come and see for yourself,” he coaxed, waving me over.

I had no idea what he was hiding underneath the blue tarp. Thankfully, it was far too big and still to be a puppy.

Adam ripped the tarp away.

I took one look at the inflatable pool and began to laugh and cry at the same time.

“I know it’s not quite as good as the ocean, but considering we don’t even have a bath at home, I figured you’d be impressed.”

I threw my arms around his neck and stretched as high as I could to kiss him. Connecting just under his ear was the best I could do. “You have no idea,” I mumbled between tears and frantic kisses.

My feet left the ground as he walked us back toward the tent. “I have one more surprise,” he announced, lowering me enough that I was standing on my own two feet again. “We have the tent and the ocean, but we still have the Manhattan traffic.”

I hadn’t heard it until he mentioned it. The sound of cars and the occasional siren in the distance wasn’t exactly raining on my Pipers Cove parade. He pointed to four small black boxes set up around the perimeter of our campsite, half way between the tent and the edge of the rooftop.

“What are they?” I asked.

He walked to one of the boxes. The low light made it impossible to see what he was doing but a second later the unmistakable sound of the ocean drowned out the dull traffic noise coming from the street below us. “They’re speakers. I had Gabrielle record a few hours of the waves below her cottage.”

The lump in my throat was impossible to swallow away. It was perfect. I didn’t need to see the ocean. Just the sound of it thundered through to my very core.

My voice sounded strange as I tried to speak. “This is exactly why you’re mine.”

The darkness did nothing to dull the intensity of his bright eyes. He ambled toward me and as soon as I was within reach, took me in his arms. “What happens now?” he breathed.

I took his face in my hands, inching his head back so I could see him properly.

“We go swimming.”

His face fell forward and he breathed out a long sigh into my shoulder. It wasn’t the gesture of an irate man. It was a scheming manoeuvre. His hands slipped around me, expertly unzipping my dress. He slipped the thin straps off my shoulders and I shimmied out of it. Something about the manoeuvre practically liquefied his cerulean eyes.

Letting out an appreciative low groan, Adam snaked his arm around my waist and drew me in close, whispering in my ear. “And this is a prime example of why you’re mine.”

***

The comfortable
July weather was a world away from our first campout. It made slipping into the cool water absolutely heavenly. It wasn’t much deeper than a bathtub, but when I lay down and closed my eyes I could almost make believe I was somewhere else. The wandering hands of the boy beside me ensured that wherever the place I was dreaming of was, he was with me. An immeasurable amount of time passed before I even contemplated getting out of the water.

“Your fingers are shrivelling,” said Adam putting his palm against mine. “We need to get you out before you wither away.”

“Like an Asrai fairy.”

Changing his grip, he fettered my wrist with his hand and pulled my body against his. “I am dying to know about Asrai fairies, Charlotte,” he whispered, far too dramatically to be believable.

“Well, your mother would be thrilled to know that they are English, and extraordinarily beautiful,” I began. “The live in really deep water and only surface once every hundred years or so to gaze at the moon. But they’re fragile little beings. If they’re captured or exposed to sunlight, they fade into a pool of water.”

“Why would anyone want to capture them?” asked Adam, setting my insides on fire by murmuring the words against my shoulder.

“Because they’re so beautiful that any man who sees one instantly wants to capture her.”

“There’s not much point if she turns into a puddle a few seconds later,” he teased.

“That’s not the worst of it,” I said bleakly. “The Asrai doesn’t go quietly. She leaves her mark. They say any man who touches one develops a nasty cold spot on his skin that can never again be warmed to match the rest of his body.”

He leaned back, gazing at me. “Thank God you’re not an Asrai.”

“I know, right? I would’ve been liquefied years ago,” I said, sweeping the water off the side of his face with the back of my hand.

“And I would have frozen to death.”

I pressed my naked body up against his, raising the water temperature to boiling point. “I would’ve made it worth your while.”

Adam stared at me with an intensity that I hadn’t felt in a long time. “You’re so beautiful. I love your stories.”

I grinned impishly. “You study law, I study lore. No big deal.”

“Can we get out of here now, please?” he asked, planting a lingering kiss on my chest.

“Are you cold?”

“No Charli.” His voice was low. “I just want to get you into the tent and have my way with you.”

***

Our little rooftop hotel was supposed to offer a late checkout, but I was woken early by the sound of the steel door opening and muffled voices.

“Who is that?” I asked, shaking Adam awake.

“Oh, great,” he groaned, suddenly alert. “It’s the old man from downstairs. I can’t believe he still does his Tai Chi classes up here, especially considering he has eight hundred acres of parkland across the street.”

Adam sat up and lurched for the zip on the door, taking the blanket with him. “Good morning Mr Locke,” he called, lowering the zip just low enough to poke his head out.

I strained to hear the reply. “Young man, you are well aware of the rules pertaining to playing on the roof.”

Playing on the roof? That was a weird way of putting it.

“Yes sir,” replied Adam, super politely.

“You boys know better than to impede on our Tai Chi group. It’s been a longstanding arrangement for many years.”

“Yes sir,” he repeated. “I guess I assumed the rules might have relaxed over time.”

“Do you play up here often, Adam?” I whispered, giggling.

He ducked his head back in the tent. “We used to play up here all the time as kids. He’s talking like it was yesterday.”

“Is your brother in there with you?” asked Mr Locke, making me laugh louder.

Adam shushed me and poked his head back out of the tent. “My brother is twenty-five years old now, Mr Locke. He hasn’t been up here in a while.”

It was definitely time to leave, but getting off the roof wasn’t going to be painless. Even the most liberal-minded Tai Chi student was probably going to have a problem with us walking around butt naked to collect our clothes from the other side of the roof.

“I’ve sent for your mother,” warned Mr Locke in a voice best suited to chiding a ten year old.

“Oh no, not my mother,” replied Adam slowly, turning back to wink at me. We were about to find ourselves in a very awkward situation, but I found something about the whole ordeal hilarious. Adam did too. He zipped up the tent and fell back down beside me, laughing like a demon.

“So, what do we do now?” I asked, in between maniacal giggles of my own. He fanned the blanket across both of us and answered my question by tracing a long line up my thigh with his fingertips.

As tempting as his silent proposition was, I heard the steel door open again and knew we were out of time. I brushed his hand away and pointed toward the door of the tent.

“Adam,” hissed Fiona, too annoyed to whisper discreetly.

I was relieved I couldn’t see her through the thin wall of the tent. I was even more relieved that she couldn’t see us.

“Ma, can you please pick up our clothes? They’re over near the pool.”

“Oh, good grief,” she muttered. “You brought a pool up here.”

I watched her shadow slip past the tent and return a few seconds later with an armful of clothing. She pulled down the zip on the door and tossed them inside.

We got dressed in record time, but we needn’t have rushed. The Tai Chi group was totally engrossed in the moves being demonstrated by the surprisingly agile old Mr Locke. They paid us no attention as we skulked toward the door.

The Décarie penthouse was only one level below the roof. It didn’t give Fiona much time to chastise her son, but she gave it her best shot anyway. “I much preferred being called to the roof when my son’s unruly game of cops and robbers was interfering with the Tai Chi class.”

“Mom, that was fifteen years ago.”

“Mr Locke has a very long memory,” she grumbled. “Mostly thanks to your brother.”

“What did Ryan do?” I asked.

Adam grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at me through the mirror, earning in a stiff elbow to the ribs from his mother. “He lassoed him and tied him up,” he replied, rubbing his wounded side. “That’s why we have strict rules about playing on the roof.”

“You weren’t blameless, Adam,” Fiona scolded. I burst into a fit of giggles, vexing her even more. “Never, ever again,” she warned, alternating her pointed finger between the two of us. “It’s taken him well over a decade to get over your last escapade. God only knows how long it’ll be before he forgets about this one.”

I couldn’t have cared less. I hoped that night was something I’d remember forever. I stared through the mirrored door at the perfect boy with bedroom hair and wicked grin. He’d managed the impossible. In a few short hours he’d taken me all the way home.

36. House Of Cards

The Euphoria of visiting
La La land lasted only as long as the weekend. It was business as usual on Monday morning. Adam made his early morning dash for the door and I was home alone. For a change, my day was not without purpose. It was the day of Seraphina’s fashion shoot.

Seraphina ended up deciding against an outside setting. She managed to con Ryan into letting her do it at Nellie’s, while it was closed between lunch and dinner service.

“Did Ryan charge you rent?”

Sera gave her trademark demure giggle. “No. He’s okay, if you catch him on a good day.”

I went about setting up my equipment while Sera started sweeping through the hangers of clothes she’d brought with her.

“Sera, how far did you wheel that thing?” I asked, pointing at the mobile clothes rack.

“I didn’t. I had it delivered.”

Of course. Every single thing in New York could be delivered for a price – including bunches of brightly coloured balloons and a smoke machine, as it turned out. The props she’d arranged shouldn’t really have shocked me. Any girl who designed outfits that combined tutus and striped socks was a little on the quirky side. Seraphina Sawyer clearly had an anime character living in her brain.