Chapter Four: board meeting

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4: Valentine is always right.

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Adam was having a very hard day.

The moment his plane had landed that morning and he'd switched his phone on, his dad had called. Like the prick knew that Adam had nothing to do except take the call while he waited for the plane to exit the runway.

What was worse was when his dad put Adam's nine-year-old half-brother Benji on the line. A low blow. Especially when their father's motives were revealed; Benji was the one who'd invited Adam to his tenth birthday party later that year. Apparently, after Adam had missed his ninth—thanks in part to a persistent Italian supermodel who'd followed him around Hyde all night like a lost puppy—no one in Benji's class believed that he really was related to The Adam Ripley.

Adam owed his brother. No matter how much he hated their ass of a father, who'd picked up and moved to California to start a new life before Adam even hit primary school. Saying no to Benji was like buying a single-scoop ice cream cone instead of a double. Like being told not to touch the pretty artwork at the National Gallery and then simply not touching it. Hard.

But it wasn't just that day that was hard. In fact, ever since receiving the news that Ripcurl was dropping him at the end of last season—despite Adam reclaiming his number one spot by the end of the circuit—every one of his days had been hard. And now Honey Fucking Valentine was sauntering toward the seat opposite his in Glow's boardroom, her slow, effortless gait poised for a runway. She was wearing a tight pencil skirt paired with heels high enough to puncture his heart. She smelled like cinnamon, like vanilla and sage and the beach before a storm.

Adam's eyes tracked the extension of her hand as it wrapped around a chair and tugged it back, imagining it wrapping around ... other things. He shuffled in his seat.

Yeah.

He was having a very hard day.

Tossing a stack of papers on the table in front of Estelle, Honey looked like she shared his sentiment. More specifically, she looked like someone had stolen her keys, burned down her apartment, then blown up her car before murdering her whole family. She looked like she thought that person might have been Adam. Because the glare she aimed at him as she slowly sank down on the chair? Damn. Adam wondered whether that look was icy enough to give him frostbite. He wished he had his camera on him to capture it, but flashed a smile instead.

Honey's lips tightened. She glanced away completely.

He felt even colder.

The door opened again as a young woman stepped through with a tray of coffee. She deposited a mug in front of each of them in turn, ending at Adam. He didn't recognise her—she must have been new—but offered a grin.

"Thanks, love."

Her cheeks went bright red. Her smile was blinding.

Honey was busy writing something in her diary.

"Mr Ripley," Estelle said without glancing up from her laptop. "Please refrain from bewitching the intern."

"I wasn't—"

"Adam."

"Fine." Though Adam did sneak another I won't tell if you don't wink at the intern before she slipped out the door, giggling.

Honey's note-taking intensified.

"How do you two know each other?" Estelle asked as she typed something on her laptop. Adam was forever impressed by the PR titan. Had been since the moment he'd met her. He had the attention span of a puppy learning to sit while a giant bone telling it to dance hung over its head. Estelle could type, read, eat, and have five conversations—all at once.

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