Adam Bomb Page 11

  “That must have been….” She trailed off as Adam nodded in sad confirmation.

  “Alienating. Demoralizing. Tragic. The erasure of my identity was the most hurtful act my father ever committed against me.”

  “Is that why you’re speaking out now? To have the final word in this lifelong battle with your father?”

  “Maybe a little,” Adam admitted. “But mostly because it’s the right thing to do.”

  It was difficult to dwell on how complicated things were between them as Levi watched Adam field answers—difficult to not fall under his spell. Even among the more experienced reporters who had interviewed scores of people, Adam had them eating out of his hands.

  “Arielle,” the next interviewer said. “You have a young son. Is sharing this position with your brother part of your strategy for how you’ll juggle family and career?”

  Elle kept her smile intact despite the problematic nature of the question. While Elle managed to remain neutral, Adam cringed. But he knew better than to rescue her.

  “I think it’s fair to say that leaning on me for support has been more of Adam’s strategy than the reverse. My role in the company has always required more consistency and been more intense. Women have juggled numerous responsibilities as they relate to family and career for millennia. We’ve more than proven ourselves capable of handling careers and busy jobs.”

  From behind his camera, Levi’s lips melted into a smile. The interviewer hadn’t been expecting that.

  “So, this is something you discussed?” The reporter tried to make light of his gaffe by kicking the question to Adam.

  “How we’ll manage career and family? Yes. I don’t think we are extraordinary in that. It’s important to us that the work-life balance we enjoy as executives is enjoyed throughout the company. We’ll be instituting new policies that will help employees enjoy more family time.”

  By the last interview, Levi’s feet ached. Every bone in his body felt tired, and his neck had a crick in it from shooting the same angles for so long. But every new interview had involved a wardrobe change, so he’d been forced to take repeated versions of similar shots.

  Thinking about being back there in just over ten hours for another full day made Levi want to climb in bed right then.

  Just twenty more minutes, he told himself.

  “So, Adam,” began what Levi thought to be a rather smug-looking interviewer—thankfully, the final one. “Rumor has it that your announcement about your sexuality comes hot on the heels of your breakup with Leila Jhaveri. Can you comment on that?”

  He had an English accent and reminded Levi just a little bit of that late-night talk show host. Despite the hour, the interviewer seemed jaunty; he smiled too much and—to be honest—seemed a bit keyed up.

  Sorry, guy, no dice, Levi thought to himself. Adam’s not gonna answer that.

  “It was a tough breakup,” Adam began in a somber voice. Levi thought he’d leave it at that—thought that Adam would say it was off-limits and to please respect his—and Leila’s—privacy. “And to be honest with you, she broke my heart.”

  Every ounce of blood in Levi’s body turned cold.

  “Leila is also of Persian descent,” Adam continued. “We’d made a joint decision to spend a year in Tehran. We’d hoped to one day start a family and live there permanently, but living and working so closely together tested some of our compatibilities.”

  “Oh dear,” commiserated the interviewer, his face looking sorrowful but his voice not pulling it off.

  “There were things I could have done better,” Adam said, motioning to himself in a humble tone that made it feel like he was sharing a secret. But was he? Levi didn’t know. Levi didn’t know whether he wanted to punch Adam in the face, hand him an Oscar for his performance, or give the man a hankie. He seriously looked like he was about to cry.

  “So, nothing to do with your coming out, then?” the interviewer prodded. “I know that our readers will want to know.”

  “No,” Adam said strongly and convincingly. “Leila has always known about my sexuality. And I want it to be clear—I was never in the closet among my friends or anybody who knew me.”

  “Then, tell me,” said the interviewer, mimicking Adam’s serious tone. “Why was it important to you to come out now?”

  Adam leaned in, lowering his voice again as well. If both of them kept lowering, soon no one was going to be able to hear anyone else.

  “We’re at a critical point in history,” Adam said. “We’ve made major strides in LGBTQ+ visibility and queer rights. I’m fortunate enough to live in a place where it’s safe to be out, relative to other places in the world. It’s been too easy for me to forget how many places there are where that’s not the case.”

  “Mm-hmm,” the interviewer hummed. “So you’re doing this to stand in solidarity with marginalized queer communities around the world?”

  “Yes,” Adam agreed. “But I also believe that talk is cheap. I believe that coming out of the closet today and disappearing tomorrow would do more harm than good. As a result, I’ve decided to make a more tangible commitment to LGBTQ+ rights.”

  “That’s fantastic!” the interviewer exclaimed. “What, specifically, is your plan?”

  “I’ll be spending at least two months per year, for the next ten years, working directly and completely on LGBTQ+ advocacy in the Middle East and living in Tehran.”

  Chapter Sixteen: The Breaking Point

  “KISS Freddie for me,” Levi commanded softly a second after he’d given Elle a long hug. The shoot had been done for half an hour. Levi’s feet ached. He was dog-tired, and he was the kind of pissed off that lashed out and left destruction in its wake. If there was one silver lining on this clusterfuck of a day, it was that he’d gotten to see Elle.

  “Be right back,” Adam said to Levi as he appeared in the dining room, freshly changed into more comfortable clothes. Adam pulled her overnight bag from her arms, bringing the long strap over his head, and settled it across his chest.

  Adam continued to the door to let them finish their goodbye. “Take care of him, okay?” she asked, stepping forward to take Levi’s hands as she fixed him pleadingly with golden eyes. “Whatever way you think things are… they aren’t what they seem. Right now, he just needs time.”

  What Levi wouldn’t say—might not ever say to Elle—was that taking care of Adam had come at the very steep price of Levi getting lost. And that was it, wasn’t it? Adam had his own set of rules that made him king. Levi was sick of the double standard. It was time for him to take care of himself.

  But not tonight, some wise voice in Levi’s head chided him, even as his rage-filled voice shouted for a fight. In five minutes—maybe less—Adam would walk back in that door. It would be the first time they were alone together in three days. But nothing good could come of a confrontation now.

  Surveying the size of the mess on the dining room table, Levi decided to leave it. They’d be starting again in fewer than twelve hours. He’d go home, get some sleep, and set the data to transfer from his memory cards. Maybe by morning, he’d cool the hell off.

  But he didn’t make it to the door fast enough. He was feet away when Adam walked in. Even if Levi hadn’t caught him midyawn, he would have seen that Adam looked tired. Depending on how you looked at it, the transformation was either impressive or disconcerting. Forty minutes before, in the interview chair, he’d looked fresh as a petunia.

  “Where you going?” Adam asked, closing the door behind himself rather than holding it for Levi, who was so riled up, the tiny gesture irked him.

  “Home,” Levi replied, sounding tense even to his own ears. “I need to get some air, and some sleep, and I want to see my dog.”

  Adam walked past him and farther into the suite. “So go for a walk around the block. I’ll have someone get Bax and bring her back here. You’ll get more sleep that way.”

  “I can’t just do what I want anymore,” Levi said testily. “I have responsibilities—lot
s of them—all of which I’m desperately trying to manage. I get to go home now and spend two hours answering email, responding to my investor, and editing pictures.”

  “You have a laptop, you stubborn fuck.” Adam sounded irritated now. “Answer your emails from here. Don’t take it out on me that you’re in a mood.”

  “Saying no to you doesn’t mean I’m in a mood. It means I—” Levi gasped dramatically. “—have an opinion about how I want to run my own life. I want to sleep in my own bed.”

  Levi turned to go, not wanting to say any more, not wanting to have to give an explanation.

  “It’s your funeral,” Adam muttered, and not in a friendly way. Levi didn’t begrudge him being punchy and exhausted. But Adam didn’t have to be a dick.

  Don’t do it, the wise voice in Levi scolded. You’re five feet away. Leave the suite and go home.

  But Levi didn’t listen to that voice. He listened to the rage-filled one that itched for a fight—the one that made him turn around and level as hard a glare as he’d ever leveled at Adam. “You’ve got some nerve….”

  Adam put his hands on his hips. “I’ve got nerve? For what? Holding out olive branch after olive branch? For inviting you to spend the night in my apartment?”

  “You would martyr yourself,” Levi growled.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “That somehow you always end up the victim. When was the last time you took real responsibility for anything you did? I’m leaving because I can’t deal with you right now—not after you cold-shouldered me for two fucking days because you’re pissed about Sonoma, then did the exact same thing you hated me for doing to you.”

  Adam’s eyes were ablaze. His hands sat on his hips, but he said nothing. His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw. Angry Adam would have looked terrifying to anyone who didn’t know him, but Levi didn’t feel threatened. Instead, he felt vindicated stunning Adam into silence.

  “You don’t like that, do you?” Levi taunted. “Me holding your feet to the fire. Me pointing out that you sat in here and told television reporters and the whole goddamned world things you never told to me. Well, fuck your double standard—fuck how you act like the rules of being a good friend only apply to me.”

  Adam was breathing hard again. Levi was on a tear. He couldn’t have stopped talking if he’d tried. This was about more than Sonoma. Everything Levi thought to say to Adam then was something he’d been thinking about for a while.

  “You won’t tell me shit about Leila, no matter how many times I ask. But apparently if some news anchor is asking and all of America wants to know, your life is an open book.”

  “None of those were real answers,” Adam said through clenched teeth. “They were part of a persona I’m crafting for the press. I said exactly what I needed to in order to stop them from digging and focusing on the wrong things.”

  “Then give me the real answer,” Levi practically shouted. “Because you’re right, I’m not the media. I’m your best friend and I shouldn’t have been the last to know. Just like some newscaster shouldn’t have found out at the same time as me about the two months out of a year you want to spend in Iran. And where the hell do you get off throwing shade at me for basically deciding the same thing?”

  “Spending two months somewhere is not the same thing as moving. It’s going on a trip. The other ten months, I’ll be home.”

  Levi let out an ironic little laugh. “No, you won’t,” he accused. “You’re the CEO of a multibillion-dollar global company.”

  “Co-CEO,” Adam corrected quickly.

  “I don’t care if you’d been born quadruplets instead of twins and there were four of you sharing the job. You are never going to be home. Why does it matter to you in the slightest where I live? It’s not like I’ll ever get to see you. How have I offended you somehow by moving to San Francisco?”

  Something faltered in Adam then—something that flashed over his face for only a minute. “Because you’ll hate it here,” Adam recovered.

  “Except I don’t hate it here.” Levi’s voice was rising now. “I actually love it. No amount of San Francisco–bashing will change that.”

  Adam shook his head but kept his eyes fixed on Levi. “You won’t make it another year.”

  The harsh words knocked the wind out of Levi and made tears smart his eyes. When he got his breath back, he returned with, “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

  Because there had been days when Levi thought he wouldn’t make it, days when all he’d wanted was New York. And if Adam doubted him, it played on his every fear.

  “I didn’t tell you about Leila because I was processing through some stuff. I told you—it was a weird year.” Adam’s voice rose and he took a step toward Levi. “I won’t pretend I didn’t play a part in all of this, but I think you’re turning this around on me out of guilt.”

  “Why should I feel guilty for anything?” Levi practically shouted.

  “Because everything you’ve done has been to cut me out. Why do you have friends—good friends—whose names I’d never, ever heard? Friends whose names I still wouldn’t know right now if we hadn’t run into them on the street? Why do all those friends—who haven’t even known you for a fucking year—know before me that you’re moving? How is it that you forgot to mention to your billionaire best friend that you needed an investor to open a gallery you never mentioned once?”

  Levi was so angry that he was shaking—so angry that he wanted to hit something, which he absolutely could not afford to do in his line of work. Worst of all, the something he wanted to hit was Adam.

  “I have to leave,” Levi said, barely able to breathe. From there, he hastened to the door and walked out.

  Chapter Seventeen: The Truth

  “GOOD morning, Levi.”

  Elise fell into step with Levi when he was midsip on his coffee, his second double-shot Americano since eight. He should have slept like a log for how many miles of the city he’d walked the previous night. Caged in indoors was no place for reflection—Levi needed movement and air. He’d done some of his best thinking and taken many of his best photos on brooding walking expeditions.

  “Morning, Elise.” Levi managed a small smile and a much-needed breath before he returned to nursing his coffee. Sunglasses were not only unneeded, they significantly darkened his vision. On any other day, Levi would have removed them. But this wasn’t any other day. This was the day after the worst fight he and Adam had ever had.

  “Adam is waiting for you in the apartments. He’d like to see you there first.”

  It was a request that Levi might have seen coming. There was more to say between them, and Levi himself wanted things resolved. Just, not now. He was exhausted and he had to work.

  “Thanks, I’ll head there,” Levi replied, making his way to the elevators and through the secret door. The last half of his coffee, which had seemed so essential just moments before, sat unsipped in his hand. He’d wanted to avoid this—had thought he’d be able to dive into his work and let things lie for a few more hours. Levi spent the elevator ride rehearsing the speech he’d deliver to Adam—the case he’d make for not talking about this now.

  Levi noticed three things immediately when he entered the apartment: all shades were drawn and the space was dim; the dining room table, usually set with a feast fit for a king, sat empty save for a pitcher of Bloody Mary; and Adam was nowhere in sight. Walking farther inside, Levi set down his coffee, then hung the strap of his shoulder bag over the back of a chair. Was Adam upstairs or down? Levi strained his ears to hear. Nearly certain he heard water running, he took the stairs up to the master bedroom. By the time he neared its en suite, the running water had stopped. On any other day, Levi would have walked in regardless of Adam’s state of undress. Today he stayed outside, leaning against the bedroom wall.

  “Hey,” Levi called, not too loudly, careful of his friend’s unconfirmed headache, though vodka for breakfast seemed to point to that. Hungover Adam was rare.
When they got back downstairs, Levi would give him two Extra Strength Advil and some of the Zofran he always kept in his camera bag. They were his go-to crutches whenever maladies crept in and he still had to perform on a shoot.

  “Hey,” returned Adam’s voice from within. The sound of a drawer opening and closing told Levi that Adam was closer than he thought—in the closet, not the bathroom.

  “We’ve got ten minutes,” Levi called, loudly enough for Adam to hear. “If we don’t start on time, we’ll throw the whole day off.”

  Adam’s footsteps retreated more deeply into the bathroom.

  “We’ll deal with the other stuff later,” Levi continued as footsteps came back toward him. “But today’s our biggest day of shooting….”

  And out came Adam, freshly showered and looking better than any hungover person deserved. Wet and unbrushed, his hair was still an organized, beautiful mess that could have been camera-ready if the rest of him was. But the rest of him wasn’t—he remained unshaven. He wore a finely ribbed white scoop-neck tank top and straight black track pants with a white stripe. Just as Levi’s eyes traveled back upward from where he’d taken in clean, bare feet, Adam put his hands on his shoulders and fixed Levi with subtly bloodshot eyes.

  “Today’s off,” Adam announced in his calm, low voice. “The New York office is reshuffling the schedule.”

  If some real emergency had arisen, Adam would have texted him to let him know that he didn’t need to come in. If that had been the case, Levi would be at home, asleep, right now.

  “I take it we’re the reason why?”

  Had Adam really cancelled a whole day’s worth of painstakingly scheduled appointments because they’d had a fight? Levi’s heart raced—not in anticipation of any real answer, but because Adam was giving him an unfamiliar look. This look held fear, the one emotion Levi had barely seen from his friend—one that belied his voice’s calm.

  But Adam still hadn’t answered, and something in his presence was strange. It reminded Levi of the day Adam had shown up at his studio, soaking wet and freezing cold, nearly one year before. It had taken him time that day, too, to form the words to spit it out. It was the day his father had died.