Chapter 3
Birdie sat at the bar as she always did.
“Hey, Jonas,” she said as she turned on the bar stool.
She was at home there. It called to her. The entire place looked like it might take off at any moment, and the means might be feathers or a jet pack.
Besides, they served a mean plate of wings, too.
Jonas greeted her with a long, low, exaggerated whistle.
Birdie had to fight the embarrassment.
Jonas, being gay, only did it to call attention to her, and they both knew it.
“Well, girl, you scrub up good, don’t you!”
Birdie chuckled.
“I don’t know who I’m meeting tonight, so I guess I wanted to be prepared.”
Feeling a bit self-conscious, Birdie smoothed down her pale blue dress and patted her braids.
No wonder Jonas looked a bit stunned. Birdie never wore dresses. To be honest, she only had three dresses at all. Usually, she was in jeans or shorts. She knew she looked good in shorts. Her legs were long and lovely.
As for heels – she owned only one pair and she was wearing them. Now, she hadn’t the slightest clue why she’d chosen to wear them at all. Really, it was just a waste, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like she was on a date.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worried about eye shadow for a date. She was wearing eye shadow.
This damn A had gotten her all jittery. This was all completely unlike her, and there was no logical reason for any of it.
“You’re looking to pick a man up? Well, honey, you can have your pick, but I must say, that’s very unlike you. What does Marley have to say about it?”
Birdie frowned in annoyance.
“Why should Marley have anything to say about it? It’s my life, I can choose to do what I like with it. And anyway, I’m here to meet a client, not pick up a man.”
Jonas knew what was good for him and backed off. He might have been a six and a half foot hulk of a man with muscles to die for, but he knew what was good for him. Birdie might even be able to take him, if it came to that. She looked all feminine as she sat on the bar stool, looking just a bit uncertain and worried, but there was nothing soft about her. At least, not on the outside.
“Sorry, Birdie. You said you didn’t know who you’re meeting.”
Birdie took a deep breath to calm down. She was jumping down Jonas’ throat for absolutely no reason.
“No, I’m sorry, Jonas. I’m nervous. I don’t know who the client is, he wanted an anonymous consult. I’m supposed to meet him here in…”
Birdie checked her watch, which was all she had left of her grandmother and was meticulously maintained.
“…ten minutes.”
Jonas leaned towards her, leaving the rest of his customers to be served by his staff.
“Well, what do you know about him?”
Birdie fidgeted restlessly.
“Nothing, really. I think it’s a man, I don’t think he’s very young or old, and I think he’s definitely used to having his way. A bit too much if you ask me.”
The last bit was a muttered rejoinder to herself, and she craned her neck, looking for him.
Adam sat in a corner, watching the door. He knew the moment Birdie walked in. He noticed, with admiration and a touch of amusement, that Birdie seemed fairly unaware of how conversation stopped when she was close by.
The woman was spectacular.
Not his type, he assured himself, but spectacular. The braided hair with the controlled elegance, the long-limbed grace that, he recognized, concealed strength and discipline – and boy, that face!
It was perfect, he thought with mild shock. He could see that she had used any makeup only sparingly, if she had at all, but the cheekbones were sharp and high, the mouth was perfectly sculpted, the nose straight, the chin firm. But her eyes captured him. They were grey. Not the light grey of silver, but the dark grey of a stormy sea. They promised passion as much as the grace of her movements promised control.
A bit shocked, Adam realized that he was intrigued. He hadn’t been intrigued by a woman in a long time.
But this was the woman who could help him conquer and trap the demons that still plagued him. So, he firmly shut down the part of him that had responded to Birdie and watched her as she fidgeted.
She was used to the place and the bartender was fond of her. It wasn’t the kind of fondness that could be bought with tips. He was genuinely fond of her. The flash of jealousy left Adam nearly speechless. He couldn’t recall ever being jealous before, not about a woman. He had been jealous of people who had things, and money enough to feel safe and secure. Adam had never cared for the feeling and didn’t intend to feel it ever again.
He watched as her face showed clear irritation and she checked her watch. It was strikingly out of place. It looked old.
So, something with sentimental value or just a habit? By the way she was tugging at her dress over her legs – and man, they were some legs – she didn’t seem all that comfortable in her dress.
The thought that he could help her out of it shouldn’t have been unexpected.
Not his type, he told himself again, hoping his hormones would listen. He really needed to get laid. Find a woman, go on a few dates, and get it dealt with. The women he dated would know what he wanted, because that’s what they wanted from him, too.
Adam knew it the moment Birdie got frustrated enough to just consider leaving, and got up to go to her.
Birdie was getting more and more annoyed by the second. Had somebody played some damn trick on her, by any chance? Was it all a prank? She was going to make whoever it was pay for it.
She had just decided to go home and forget about it until whoever it was owned up when she felt his presence.
She turned around, annoyed, and felt like she’d been punched in the gut.
His face, thought Birdie, numbly. It was… everything. Her fingers itched to sketch it, to turn him into an angel.
His hair was dark blonde and wavy, just messy enough to make it fun, long enough to make mamas say he needed a haircut. The face would’ve been perfect on a Calvin Klein model. The eyes, dark blue, were mesmerizing.
Birdie felt as if she’d been enchanted.
“Birdie Campbell? I’m ‘A.’”
Birdie opened her mouth and tried to speak, but no sound came out. He smiled, and she nearly slid to the floor in a puddle of goo.
He had a dimple in his left cheek. She wanted to lick it.
What the hell was she thinking? She snapped herself back into reality.
Looking pointedly at the watch, she made her voice deliberately frosty.
“What you are is late.”
Adam grinned at her tone. It had been a long time since anybody except his family had chided him, too. But he had seen the reaction she had quickly masked. Whatever he had felt when he’d seen her, she’d felt it, too. But he’d had time to get himself in hand. She had done it in a fraction of a second.
That was definitely impressive.
“I apologize. I wanted to be sure I’d feel comfortable with you.”
Birdie shrugged and said nothing. She didn’t think her tongue would work. She was amazed she’d gotten that one line out without stuttering, really.
“I have a table in the corner. Why don’t we have a seat and talk?”
“Is everything all right, Birdie?” Jonas’ voice intruded. But it also brought Birdie back to reality. She turned to him with a warm smile and nodded.
“Everything’s fine, Jonas. Apparently, I’ve found my client. I’m fine. I’ll take a porter, though.”
Jonas handed Birdie a bottle of porter, to Adam’s surprise.
“I’ll take a Bud,” said Adam, and was given one, along with a slightly disdainful look.
By the time they got to the table, Birdie had herself under control. At least, so she hoped. She didn’t want to act like a star-struck idiot.
“So, got a name?” asked Birdie, taking the initiative.
Adam grinned.
“Do you find tardiness so unforgivable?”
Birdie relaxed and knew it was a mistake immediately. Her tongue immediately seemed to tie itself up in knots.
She just shook her head.
“All right,” said Adam, amused now. “I’m Adam Simpson.”
It clicked into place.
Birdie’s mouth nearly fell open. She caught herself just in time.
“The app billionaire?”
Adam rolled his eyes.
“I suppose so,” he admitted, looking a bit peeved.
“I didn’t know you were so cute.”
It was out before she could stop it. She could’ve thumped her head on the table.
Instead, she took a sip of her porter and hoped he’d think it was just a compliment.
“The tabloids seem to print my most unflattering photos,” said Adam, with a grin that could’ve made angels fall.
Really, the man was so gorgeous, it shouldn’t be allowed!
“Okay, I guess I kind of get the whole secrecy thing. Though really, it wasn’t necessary. But you couldn’t have known that without knowing me.”
“I’ve heard only wonderful things about you.”
“What have you heard?”
Shit, thought Birdie, had she actually said that aloud? Now she sounded like a fan who was amazed that he knew of her existence.
If Adam noticed the tone, he didn’t dwell on it, for which Birdie was grateful.
“I know of you from a lot of people. You’re becoming quite a name. But the reason I wrote to you is Celeste.”
Birdie smiled, and the fondness was unmistakable. It made Adam reach out for her hand and hold it, though neither of them realized the intimacy of that moment.
“Celeste is amazing. She has such strength. She always had it. She just forgot about it for a while and hid inside herself. I was so glad to help her, though she helped me as much as I helped her. She’s the one who made me see what my calling was. She did as much for me as I did for her. We’re still in touch, though I haven’t written to her in a while. I should.”
“I think she’d like that.”
Birdie was suddenly aware of that contact and pulled her hand away abruptly. It felt far too nice. She had no business feeling such things, not there with Adam Simpson. He was from a different world, with the kind of wealth she couldn’t even imagine. She didn’t even want it. Birdie just wanted enough to live on her own terms. Since her terms didn’t include private jets or owning islands, what she had was good enough.
“I would like that, too. If you know of me from Celeste, then you know everything there is to know. What else do you need?”
Adam sat back, his long legs stretching out under the table and making Birdie avoid them. She wanted to rub her legs against his.
So she absolutely wouldn’t.
“I need you to know me.”
Wouldn’t mind knowing you biblically, thought Birdie before she could stop herself. She could only be grateful she hadn’t said it out loud. That would’ve really capped it all.
She just nodded.
Birdie waited, not trusting herself to say anything. He’d talk when he was ready.
Adam took a deep breath, and waited a moment. He didn’t talk about this, not with anybody. It was letting somebody into the deepest part of him, letting them see things about him he wasn’t comfortable sharing with anybody at all.
It was an admission of weakness. Birdie Campbell was a stranger.
But she could help him. He had to believe that.
“I have a scar. Many scars, really, covering my right thigh and my back. They’re pretty big.”
Birdie nodded. She could see that it was difficult for him. Interrupting him would only make it more difficult.
“A year ago – almost exactly a year ago – I was in an accident. I love – loved – dirt bikes. I’d go to a track and ride when I wanted a stress-buster. Well, that day, I busted a lot more than my stress. It’s apparently a miracle that I’m alive. But I don’t believe in miracles. I fought to stay alive. I refused to die. But now, the scar reminds me of how I almost didn’t. I almost didn’t fight hard enough. I need to change it. I could get rid of it, but that’s not what I want. I’ll never be able to live as if it had never happened. But I want to live again, instead of just… being afraid.”
When he said the last word, he paused in surprise. He had never intended to say that, not to her, not to anybody else. He had never confessed that part to anybody.
But there he was, having a conversation with a stranger and spilling his deepest, darkest secrets. Maybe that’s what he needed: an understanding stranger.
He saw the compassion in her stormy eyes and felt strangely comforted.
“You want to turn it into strength. You want to remember how you fought and won, instead of just that you had to fight and you might have lost,” said Birdie, softly, and Adam felt like he had never been understood before.
He nodded.
Birdie smiled softly.
“That’s what I do with my work, Adam. I turn scars from failure to strength, to remind you that you did more than just survive. You beat it. You beat it to hell and back, and now you’ll turn it into a work of art. That’s kicking its ass. That’s telling life that it can’t kick you around.”
Adam nodded again, not trusting himself to say anything.
“Well, practically, I’m afraid the process will take you back a bit. For one thing, I need to see the scar, or at least a photo of it, before I can start to work on a design. It would really be better if you could come into the studio tomorrow and we could put our heads together. Besides, it’ll be a big project, so I can’t sign you on unless Marley signs off on it.”
“Marley – that’s your partner.”
Birdie nodded.
“I’m afraid you didn’t exactly gain his trust with the anonymous routine. We have to agree. But I’m sure I can convince him. He knows that helping people find beauty in what they think of as ugliness is important to me. And he knows that it’s just about impossible to drag me away from a challenge. So, I’m pretty sure I can convince him to look past the mystery.”
Adam looked discomfited.
“You know, I didn’t really consider that you might not take me on as a client. I thought it would be my choice.”
Birdie chuckled and took a sip of her sadly neglected drink. It wasn’t cold enough anymore, but Birdie could deal with it.
“Yes, so I gathered from the first email. But from what you’ve told me already, it will be a pretty long process. It will also take a lot from me. Each scar I work on is different. It needs a different part of me. It takes as much out of me as a painting takes out of an artist. It’ll be a piece of me, a piece of my soul that I’ll give you to take strength from, if you need to. I wouldn’t do that unless I felt I could deal with it. I wouldn’t do it unless Marley felt I could, either.”
“So, are you and Marley… umm…”
Birdie gaped for a moment before dissolving into peals of laughter.
“Oh,” she gasped, “he would get such a kick out of that. No, Marley is my friend and my partner, and I trust him and his judgment. So I’m afraid that even if I’ve passed your test, you still need to pass his. You’ll have to audition for him,” said Birdie, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Adam smiled, and Birdie found all control over her vocal chords sliding away again. It was easier to keep her mind from scrambling all over the place when he didn’t smile.
“So, does that mean that I’ve passed your test?”
Birdie smiled vacantly, barely registering the words that came from his mouth because she was far too lost in his smile.
That dimple was distracting. It should be registered as an illegal substance or something. It seemed to get her high. Was there something in her porter?
She looked at the bottle suspiciously before deciding she needed it and taking a long swig.
“Have I?”
The man was persistent.
Birdie nodded.
“I guess so,” she managed to say, and her voice was thankfully not squeaky. But then, her voice was always throaty and a little husky.
“Then I guess I need to charm Marley, too.”
That tickled Birdie out of her star-struck imbecility again.
“Oh, that wouldn’t work on Marley. With Marley, you must be honest and upfront. You see, he deals with a lot of our routine stuff. He does enjoy the work, but a lot of clients who want flowers and butterflies tend to be… well… They rarely have hidden depths, let’s just put it that way.”
Adam grinned again.
Birdie looked away before she let her brains get scrambled again.
“But,” she hurried on, “they are always sweet and charming. Sometimes it gets to be so much that Marley craves a good dose of no-nonsense, straightforward honesty to all the charm in the world. And it would go much better if you did it man to man. He gets far too protective with me. Even if I can lay him on his ass.”
The last part was muttered and Adam didn’t catch all of it. Lay? Had she said lay? But she had said that there was nothing going on between them.
Adam was surprised by how much he wanted Birdie to be single and unattached. She wasn’t his type, he reminded himself. She wasn’t simple. She was complicated and had layers.
Anybody who did the kind of work she did was bound to have layers.
He liked uncomplicated women who didn’t know too much about him, and who didn’t care to ask him why. Birdie would be nothing like that.
Though it was endearing how she seemed to lose her train of thought when he smiled.
Of course, Adam knew that he was handsome. But he had never seen a woman as beautiful as Birdie be susceptible to it so obviously. It showed a lack of artifice that was charming and incredibly rare.
“All right, then I will talk to him, and I will tell him the truth. If I could win you over when you were hostile – no, don’t say you weren’t, I saw how irritated you were a little while ago, with me – then I should be able to handle Marley.”
“You were late,” she pointed out.
“I wasn’t. I was here ten minutes before you were.”
Birdie shrugged.
“That doesn’t really make it any better. I was left to wait and cool my heels. I don’t like waiting.”
Adam couldn’t help it. He grinned, and saw that slightly dazed look come into her grey eyes again.
“I won’t keep you waiting again,” he said solemnly.
Birdie felt like her head was stuffed with cotton wool. Adam was so cute. She had heard of him, of course. He seemed to have come from nowhere and had taken the tech world by storm.
Then he had disappeared for a while. Not much had leaked, though there had been plenty of speculation in tabloids, which were kept at the tattoo studio for people who wanted to browse.
Now Birdie knew the truth. She couldn’t even begin to figure out how difficult it must’ve been for him to let go so far. She would have to do justice to his faith.
“I promise you, I’ll give you something that’ll make sure that you never regret seeking me out.”
The words were soft and sincere. Adam was touched.
“I don’t doubt that, Birdie. But I doubt myself, sometimes.”
This time, it was Birdie who leaned across to cover his hands with hers. There was a soft intimacy in that simple touch, and neither wanted to ignore or acknowledge it.
“I’ll try my best to make sure you don’t do that, either.”
Adam smiled, and this time, it was sad enough to tug at her heartstrings. He must’ve gone through hell, and it must still plague him.
But as she watched, Adam drew back, as if he had gone too far.
“Then I will see you tomorrow, Birdie. Midmorning, if that suits you.”
Birdie nodded, and before she could say more, he had left.
Birdie let out a long, shaky breath.
This, she thought, was going to be interesting.