I wondered who Adam usually invited with him to parties. If he hadn’t been in long-term relationships, then who was his “plus one”?

Adam stood at my side making introductions. The blond guy, Jordan Fawkes, was Adam’s CFO and apparently ignorant of our arrangement or masked his reactions very well. He stood beside a woman who looked like she could be a Victoria’s Secret model. She wore makeup from her hairline down to her cleavage and her body was flawless. Her dress was so tight it left little to the imagination. I half expected her to start strutting like she was moving down a catwalk. She was, however, very kind and greeted me with a smile, complimenting my dress.

One of the other women present was a pretty blonde who looked like she was in her midthirties. Her husband seemed a lot older than her. She smiled widely for Adam, kissing him on both cheeks. Creepily enough, her husband was leering over her shoulder—at me! His eyes scoured me from head to toe and rested on my cleavage, staring at me like I was a steak and he was four weeks into a hunger strike.

I’d gotten those looks before and brushed them aside without much thought. I’d always figured they were some men’s way of making a power play without ever having to say a word or touch a thing. I lifted my chin haughtily and jerked my head away. He wasn’t worth another thought.

I also noticed the way his wife attended to Adam’s every word and move. She’d been introduced to me as Lindsay Walker, a very old friend. Actually, Adam’s exact words were, “We’re friends from way back.” But the way she kept touching Adam suggested more. She cast a perfunctory—almost dismissive—glance at me when we were introduced and then proceeded to chat him up, reaching out occasionally to touch his shoulder, or his elbow.

In truth, I was bored the entire evening. I had nothing in common with these people and they were all very much a part of the scene here in Newport Beach. And I was very much not. I was easily the youngest one there, aside from Ms. Victoria’s Secret. I’d guess that Adam was amongst the youngest as well. A few asked what I did and when I told them I was a hospital orderly and a hopeful med student, they made a little more small talk and then drifted away.

I really didn’t care about the brush-offs. It was a relief, actually. That way I didn’t feel obligated to them to try and entertain them. When we ate—around a beautifully appointed glass table on the covered porch overlooking the harbor—I was at the opposite end from Adam and his “old friend.” Lindsay had entered before most of the others and hastily switched dinner cards—I’d watched while she did it, shocked at her audacity—so that she’d be sitting next to Adam. She wasn’t old enough to be a cougar, but she was clearly quite a few years older than him. I began to suspect they had a history as I watched them over dinner.

The guy to my right was a financier and he spent the entire meal chatting up the lawyer across from me. I sat in silence and picked at my food, wondering where tonight would lead. Without the yacht, we wouldn’t be able to go out to the twelve-mile mark, where, in international waters, we would no longer be subject to the law of the land. We sure as hell wouldn’t be making that trip in the Duffy Boat, which was designed for tootling around the harbor.

So, then what? Were we halted again? In irritation, I glanced at Adam, whose head tilted toward Lindsay, listening to something she was saying but looking bored beyond words. He glanced down the table and our gazes met. I froze and he smiled and winked, before looking away.

The guests stayed only an hour after dinner—they were on their way to a concert at the Performing Arts Center in Costa Mesa. Lindsay and her husband were the last to go and again I got that cold once-over from her. It was beyond awkward. Her behavior was possessive. I wanted to tell her not to feel threatened. One fuck and it would be over with Adam. She had nothing to worry about. But curiously, I was having a harder time getting over the irritation I was feeling, both at her presumption with him and his open acceptance of it. Maybe they were friends like I was with Heath. But I just didn’t get that sense from them.

She touched him like she had done it a thousand times before. Like she knew him intimately. Like a lover.

And surprisingly that brought my claws out. It was beyond stupid of me to feel that way, but I was like a guard dog with hackles up every time I saw her mouth go near his ear to whisper something funny.

But to my relief, everyone was gone before eight o’clock. Adam asked me if I wanted something to drink and poured some mineral water for himself and a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio for me.

“Let’s go down to the beach,” he said with a smile.