Adie, not knowing how to respond or what else to do, stomped away.
Three
After a few days in Manhattan, and at Kate’s insistence, Adie had moved into the guest room of Kate’s Chelsea apartment.
She was mostly house trained, Kate laughingly informed her when making the offer, but she wasn’t great at mornings. She’d been telling the truth. Adie, dressed to make her way to the Upper East Side and Hunt’s building, shook her head at Kate’s bedhead and dopey eyes.
Knowing that she needed some answers from her friend, Adie hastily poured Kate a cup of coffee, fixed it the way she liked it and shoved her into a seat at the small table in the kitchen. Then Adie pushed the cup into Kate’s hands, hoping her return to reality wouldn’t take too long.
The first sip did nothing, neither did the second. Kate’s eyes remained foggy.
Adie picked up her tub of yogurt. “Come on, Williams, I need to go, and I need you to wake up and focus.”
Kate lifted up a finger and took another few sips of her coffee. When she stood up to refill her cup, Adie knew she was on her way back to the land of the living.
Picking up her tablet, Adie opened the list she was working on and fired a couple of questions at Kate. Jotting down her responses with her stylus, she nodded. She asked Kate whether she’d contacted caterers for Hunt’s annual Christmas cocktail party and received a laconic reply.
“So what’s going on between you and Hunt?” Kate asked, looking at Adie over the rim of her cup.
“Nothing,” Adie replied, turning around to throw her plastic yogurt container in the trash. And that was the truth. Nothing was happening and nothing was going to happen between her and Hunt. No Christmas, or any other type of, flings for her.
“Pfft! I don’t believe you.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“We’ve had a couple of meetings with Hunt and the room feels ten degrees hotter whenever you are together and the chemistry between you crackles,” Kate said, lifting her feet to rest her heels on the edge of her seat.
“Yeah, we’re attracted to each other, but nothing is going to happen.” She’d give Kate that much.
“Why not?” Kate demanded. “Is it because of Griselda?”
Who? Adie shook her head, confused. “Who is Griselda?”
Kate pulled a face, looking uneasy. “Uh...she’s well, uh... I don’t know how to describe her.”
“Try,” Adie snapped. When Kate didn’t reply, she repeated the question, pushing the words through gritted teeth. Okay, she was totally overreacting here. She had no right to be jealous. She and Hunt had only shared a couple of kisses and he wanted to sleep with her...
But if he had a girlfriend, she’d be not only furious with him, but she’d be disappointed in him too. Her parents openly flaunted their affairs and, as a result, Adie deeply respected commitment and fidelity. If she did indulge in flings, affairs or brief relationships, men involved in relationships would be strictly off-limits.
And her questions didn’t mean she was going to have a fling with Hunter Sheridan! But there was nothing wrong in gathering intelligence...
“Is she his girlfriend? Partner? Significant other?” Adie demanded, conscious of a tiny ache in her heart. No, she refused to feel disappointed or hurt. She’d met Hunt Sheridan a few days ago; she had no right to feel possessive...
They’d kissed, twice. She was totally overreacting. Totally.
Kate wrinkled her nose. “Nah...”
“You don’t sound convinced,” Adie stated, folding her arms against her chest.
“I don’t know how to describe what they are, Ades, and no, I’m not avoiding the question.”
Adie glared at her, picked up her tablet and accessed the internet. She typed “Hunt Sheridan + girlfriend” into the search bar and cursed when her screen filled with dozens of results. Adie opened a popular online magazine and felt her heart sink at the photographs of Hunt at a prestigious gala, his strong arm around an exquisite woman’s tiny waist.
As a child, Adie desperately wanted to be taller, blonder—more of a Cinderella than a Cinders. Griselda was exactly who Adie wanted to be when she grew up. Like Adie’s mother, Vivien, Griselda was a tall, skinny, elegant, cool blonde who owned her own string of dance studios. She’d been a prima ballerina before injury cut her career short, and she and Hunt, according to the website, had been an item for two or so years.
Adie lifted her head to look at Kate. “The press calls her his girlfriend.”
Kate waved her comment away. “Hunt doesn’t. As far as I know, their relationship is...undefined.” Kate shoved her hand into her hair, obviously uncomfortable. “Just ask Hunt if you want to know.”