Adelaide
Malik stopped by my desk.His arms were always filled with recording equipment, and today was no exception.
“Do you have some time for me this afternoon, Addie?”
“Always.” I grinned at him. “It is going to be tedious fun or fun-fun?”
“You’re going to help me in the booth. We’ve got a single musician coming in to lay down a track. It’s fairly simple, so I want you on the board with me. Is that fun-fun?”
I nearly leapt out of my chair to throw myself at him. Fortunately, I was a consummate professional, so I only rubbed my hands together like an evil movie villain.
“Oh, that’s fun-fun. I wish I’d worn a party dress for the occasion.”
He threw his head back, laughing. “How about you save the party dress for Friday? I’m not supposed to say shit, but the all-hands-on-deck meeting on your calendar? Yeah, there’s gonna be cake and champagne.”
My eyes bugged out. “No.”
He shifted the wires he was holding. “Not every day the new girl gets engaged.”
My hands flew to my cheeks. “No. Please.”
He waved me off. “You didn’t hear it from me.” He cackled again as he headed off toward the studios, leaving me to process the fact that my coworkers were apparently throwing me a surprise engagement party.
Shit.
They’d played it cool since the news hit. Malik had offered me a congrats and a few others had done the same, but no one had bombarded me with questions about my patrilineage, thank goodness.
I picked up my phone and opened my texts to Adam. This was his fault.
Me:Just so you know, my coworkers are throwing me an engagement party on Friday. I’m going to break their hearts when the marriage doesn’t actually happen.
Then I deleted the whole thing. I would have sent that to himbefore, but those days had come and gone.
He was giving me the physical space I’d asked for—three whole days of it—but now that I had it, I wasn’t sure I wanted it. I guess I thought he’d fight me over it, camp out in my hallway, show up after work to whisk me off to dinner.
He hadn’t exactly left me alone, though.
On Sunday, I’d received a series of texts from him.
Adam:It’s not enough for me either.
Adam:We’re going to talk.
Adam:And then fuck. But talk first.
Adam:I have some music things I need to handle.
Adam:Then I’m coming for you, and you’re not going to run.
Monday he’d checked in. Tuesday too. He’d sent me pictures of himself playing his guitar, brushing his teeth, cleaning his apartment. I replied with pictures of my desk, heaps of headphones I was sanitizing, my books from my classes, the empty Plan B packet. It was a relief to exchange normal texts that weren’t fraught with emotion and questions.
Thingsweren’tnormal, though. Matt was all up in my business. I let him walk next to me because following me was creepy.
More dresses showed up at my apartment, including the exact same Alaia I’d worn to Adam’s going away party. I’d allowed myself to cry over that, but only for five minutes, then I’d sucked it up.
Now that I didn’t know when I’d see Adam again, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. After three solid days of texts and gestures, I was longing for him to disrespect my space. That was crazy since all I’d wanted him to do was leave me alone. I fingered my necklace, smiling faintly to myself.
Malik stopped by my desk again, letting me know it was time to head to the studio. I tucked my phone in my pocket and followed him, trying and failing to keep the spring out of my step. I’d been in recording sessions, but this was the first time I’d be sitting at the board, and I couldn’t wait.