Page 58 of Not That Impossible

It was toomuch to hope that Adam would be gone when I came back downstairs. I did linger in the shower, just in case. I also tried to come up with a lie, but it was hard to be creative with a broken heart.

I soaped myself up, rinsed myself off, washed my hair, and decided to fuck the lotion. Who needed touchably soft skin? Not me. I dragged on my comfiest fleece-lined sweatpants and thermal long sleeve t-shirt, and schlepped my way downstairs.

“Oh,” I said. “You’re still here. Great.”

Adam was sitting at the kitchen table. He’d pushed the chair back, had his legs stretched out, and was scrolling on his phone.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” I said.

He was wearing his uniform. Purple trousers, a white shirt, and a purple tie. A purple blazer was slung over the back of his chair. I don’t know how the staff at the Premier Lodge were supposed to take themselves seriously when management made them dress like pimps from the ’70s.

“Later,” he said, still scrolling. “The good news is, since you don’t have to be at work until this afternoon, we can hang out and have a lovely long chat.”

“Cool,” I said. “Except I don’t want to.”

“Yes, you do. I unloaded about Ray driving me nuts. It’s your turn. Tell me all about it. You’ll feel better.”

Okay, he wasn’t wrong. I did want to tell him all about it. I just couldn’t.

“Jasper, you know there is no chance in hell I’m leaving while all this is happening.” He sketched a graceful circle in the air. I assumed he was referring to my face.

I tried to smile.

“Stop that,” Adam said in alarm.

Fine. I let my face crumple. And then I let my body crumple, all the way into a chair, and then I folded over and laid my face on the table. I sighed.

“I know you’re upset about Liam,” Adam said gently.

I heaved another sigh. “I’ll get over it.” I’d never get over it.

“What did he do to you?”

Made me see God and all his angels. “Nothing.”

“Mm-hmm.” Adam leaned over, cupped my cheeks, and lifted until my chin was propped on the table. I stared up at him. “You know he’s a dick,” Adam said.

“Runs in the family.”

He grinned. “What did he do?”

I wanted to tell Adam. I really did. But I refused to out Liam just to make myself feel better. I had to tell Adam something, though, or he wouldn’t leave it alone. “Eh,” I said. “We had a professional disagreement.”

“What?” Adam seemed oddly surprised.

“I might have sort of, uh. Assaulted him. At Ray’s.”

Adam blinked.

I told him the sad story of my failed journalistic career. Highlights only: screamed at by Ralph, trespassed and nearly landed on a dog, got scooped, screamed at by Constable Jones, assaulted a police officer, ran away.

“Huh,” he said. “That’s what this is about?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re upset because Mrs Strickland scooped you, and you shoved Liam?”

“Pretty much?”

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