Cherished (Adam & Ella) (11 page)

Releasing into her with everything he had, Adam moaned through his panting. He pounded into her, seeing her stiffen, and feeling her turn to steel as she reached her peak. He spurted, giving her his cum, and letting the heavy release take him. It felt so good. She felt so good. And he loved her so much. More than he could ever say. More than he could ever show.

The kitchen was a mess. Adam lifted Ella in his arms and carried her to the shower. They soaped each other and washed each other’s hair. Clean and dry, they snuggled into bed. Ella’s head rested on his shoulder, and he had both arms around her. The light from the night sky gave the room a soft radiance. That was the last thing Ella remembered.

Unsure how long she’d slept, she opened her eyes to a bright white room, sunlight flooding in. Adam wasn’t there. She slipped out of bed to put on shorts and a top before padding out to the kitchen. The huge kitchen, the island, and all the counters were spotless. The maid must have spent a long time cleaning, as it looked pristine, unaffected by human touch. Ella smiled. She knew that wasn’t true.

Missing Adam, she made her way to his office, finding him at his desk. Looking up, he smiled. “Amore
mia, you look lovely this morning. I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful, sound asleep.”

“It must be late. It feels like noon.”

“No, you didn’t sleep that long.” He opened his arms and Ella went to him and sat sideways on his lap. He hugged her, and she ran her hands through his thick, golden hair, messing it up.

“I think I’ll call
Fiorella. I don’t know what to wear to the book festival. She’s always good at that stuff, knowing what to wear for what occasion.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. I’ll be involved here for most of the day,” Adam said. “You must be hungry. I messaged Eli to come in a bit later, so uh…well, the kitchen was a wreck.” He laughed.

Ella kissed him, remembering how sweet he was the night before, how sweet he always was. “You were so hot,” she said. “That’s the best dessert I ever had.”

“The best,” he said, rubbing her back.

“I love you, Adam.”

“Beautiful Ella, I cherish you.”

“Is cherish more than love?”

“Much more.
Cherish is deeper, stronger.”

“And sexier,” Ella finished.

Adam smiled. “Yes, definitely sexier.”

Leaving Adam to his work, she made her way down the hall and was relieved when the smell of coffee assaulted her senses. Eli had arrived.

The day went by uneventfully. Ella had a pleasant shopping trip with Fiorella. She told her she didn’t really need to buy anything new. She had so much in her closet, so there must be something appropriate for the publishing affair. But Fiorella wouldn’t hear of it. “This is a big deal for you, Ella. We need to dress you for success.”

Ella had to admit it was fun, finding just the right business attire. Her anticipation grew, and her hopes were high for connecting with just the right publisher. At lunch, they chatted about recent events.
Fiorella had known something was off at dinner the night before, but didn’t see all that happened. Telling her the whole story, Ella felt better.

She could see that Adam never intended to upset her. It was just how it worked out. You didn’t need to be a behavioral science expert to see that
Violetta was unstable. “She’s always been like that,” Fiorella said.

In truth, Ella felt for her. Though she would never tell Adam, she understood how
Vee could want him so badly—or did, at least. And she could only imagine the pain of wanting Adam and being unable to have him. Of course, she didn’t feel bad enough to let Vee take Adam from her. But she could empathize.

Fortunately,
Vee had found someone who cared about her. Ella hoped it was real love, and that Vitto would be faithful and take care of her. In the upper-class world of fashion, supermodels, and publishing, anything could happen. The lifestyles of the rich and famous were envied, but difficult. Ella read the tabloids. Famous people were always starting splashy relationships and then breaking up, their private lives like an open book for the public to see.

But Ella’s assessment of
Vittorio Esposito was that he wasn’t like that. True, she’d only talked with him for a little while at dinner, and then briefly on the patio. But with some people, she could just tell. And he’d agreed to help them, to use his influence with the media to expose Claudio. That was something he didn’t have to do. The fact that he’d agreed made a statement about him.

Ella told
Fiorella all about Vitto and how he could help them. “That’s wonderful,” she said. “He will be a powerful ally.”

“I agree,” Ella said. “I think we will be able to end this,
Fiorella. I want you to have your engagement party. And I want to live with Adam, without fear.”

“I hope so,” she said. “It has gone on too long.”

“Can I share something with you, on a different subject?” Ella asked.

“Sure, you know you can.”

“I spoke to my mother recently,” Ella said.

“
Oh, and how did that go?”

“Well, it was strange. All my life I wanted her to love me. I told myself she did, but that she was just too busy, too self-involved. And maybe she did love me. I don’t know for sure. But this is the first time she has reached out to me,” Ella said. “I can’t pretend I don’t care. She’s my mother. I will always love her, even though I may not like how she behaves.”

“I understand.”

“It’s just that I think the only reason she called is because she’s between boyfriends. And that hurts. Also, I’m a bit worried about her. I’m not sure how much my father left her, but I think she’s running out of money.

“I would always help her, if I could. I’m torn. I want to try to have a better relationship with her, but I’m afraid. I just think she will hurt me again, hurt me like she always has.”

Fiorella
put her hand over Ella’s. “Maybe so, but she is your mother. And I agree that she’s behaved badly. She’s hurt you; I can see it. And you’ve told me how she treated you. Still, if you have a chance to repair the relationship, you should take it. Family is important. If you don’t try, I know you’ll regret it. You have a good heart, Ella. I hope one day your mother appreciates you.”

Ella knew it was true. Despite any misgivings, the possibility that her mother’s indifference was cracking compelled her to try to have a better relationship. “You are right. I will do my best. I’ll give her a chance.”

*****

The next morning, Ella surfed on her custom board with Adam not far away. She always loved watching him ride the waves, seeing him navigate the curve, and swoop down the inside. He was so athletic. The sun gave him a bronze glow and streaked his hair with gold. It didn’t escape her notice how other women looked at him. But he was hers, all hers.

Stretched out on beach towels, drying under the warm sun, Adam reached out and squeezed her hand. She loved him so much. Thinking about her mother again, she realized she didn’t want to depend on Adam. As generous as he was, Ella would never feel right asking him to support any of her family—or even her, for that matter.

She needed to earn her own income. The savings she’d come to Rio with had dwindled. She had never expected the sum to last forever. Connecting with publishers wasn’t just for her ego. She needed to get her novel published, and to write more of them. A career was what she needed, and writing was one talent she had. Not one to give up easily, she resolved to do her best at the festival with the intention of gaining the attention of someone who could help her get published.

At home, Adam worked at the computer, as was his routine, and Ella sat by the pool. She never minded having some time to herself. That was when she could work on her fiction, and lately she’d been outlining a second romance. If she found a publisher for her first novel, it would be good to have the next one in progress. She wrote for a little while before stopping to gaze out at the view. Looking over the smooth surface of the pool, past the disappearing edge, and out to the expanse of the ocean, her thoughts drifted to the book festival. Mulling over the details, she decided she was as prepared as she could be.

She needed to work out some of her feelings, though. Insomnia hadn’t been an issue since she’d been with Adam. But she had dreams sometimes, unpleasant ones. The night before she’d dreamt something awful happened, but she couldn’t recall the dream clearly. But the feeling was still there, and she felt edgy. Clicking to her diary, she started to type.

Something is wrong, but I cannot put my finger on it. When I have bad dreams, it’s usually that I sense something. Often I don’t remember the details of the dream, just the feeling. The one last night was frightening, but I don’t recall what I was afraid of.

It seemed like a dark cloud settled over me, and took me away from Adam. That makes no sense. That’s not going to happen. Surely it had nothing to do with Violetta. That’s all resolved. She has a new boyfriend, and I’m pretty sure she’s given up on Adam. Anyway, that wouldn’t terrorize me.

I know Adam wants me. I don’t doubt his love. It’s something else. I think this situation with his father is bugging me. We haven’t heard back from
Taiz. It hasn’t been that long, but I’m sure Miguel has relayed the message. I just don’t know when Lucas will meet with his people, or how soon it will get to Taiz. Then how much time it will take for him to consider the offer.

Waiting is torture. Meanwhile, it’s been quiet, a bit too quiet. First Claudio threatens the church with those awful notes. It stirs everything up, upsets Serena, and the rest of the family.
Then nothing. He threatens, but then nothing happens. Not that I want it to.

It’s just that he is capable of carrying out his threats, and his silence is more frightening than his attacks. It’s like we are fighting blind, never knowing when or where he will strike. I
think that’s why I’m freaked out. He’s like a creature in the dark that will reach out and grab me when I least expect it.

I know I’m being overly dramatic. Adam is executing his plan, and I see no reason why it won’t work, to a point. You see, I have this nagging fear that if we block him from one avenue of attack, like moving the precious gambling software out of his reach, that he will just come at us some other way.

He will never be satisfied until Adam buckles and caters to his demands. Sure, we can stop him, but is it permanent? That’s why I asked Vitto to help. I just had the idea that if Claudio couldn’t hide, if we could shed the light of day on his crimes, we could put him on the defensive. He is always coming at us with his threats, and with Vitto’s help I hope we can corner him. Maybe we can gain control of the situation, and make him go away.

I dream of a day when I can be with Adam, free to do as we wish, free to love each other, with danger only a memory. We just want to be together and have a future. Sometimes it seems out of reach, like evil is just part of Adam’s life and now part of mine, and it will never go away. But I don’t believe that. I can’t believe that.

The day finally arrived; Ella dressed for the book festival, excited and hopeful.
Nico would drive her and be at her side throughout the event. Since it was a huge public event, Adam had requested additional security. Sometimes she felt like royalty, the way she was guarded and escorted around. Yet she understood his concern, and certainly didn’t want anything to happen just because she couldn’t handle a few bodyguards as companions.

Adam would have gone with her, but Ella felt she should make connections on her own. It was her career and it felt good to take charge. Anyway, he couldn’t have attended. Joel Santos, marketing manager for AB Software, had arranged for a meeting with a new investor. Normally, Joel handled everything in coordination with Quinn, but this time Adam’s attendance was requested. The investor wanted to discuss some ideas and speak with him personally.

For days, Ella had been texting Kaiyla, letting her know every detail. She’d received an encouraging text message that morning, and knew her friend would be thinking of her. Fiorella had called, knowing Ella would be up early, and given her a vote of confidence. And Adam had held her close, expressing the complete faith he had in her. With all the moral support, the day didn’t seem so nerve-racking. More than anything, Ella was just plain excited.

Until they’d gone shopping, Ella hadn’t realized how much she needed
Fiorella’s assistance in picking the right outfit. Women in Brazil dressed with grace and sophistication, wearing beautiful designs in striking colors. However, for business, something too bright might give the impression that the woman didn’t take negotiations seriously.

Fiorella
told her never to wear the green and yellow colors of the Brazilian flag. And in business any modest gifts should never be in black or purple, since those are the colors of mourning. Just to be safe, Ella avoided those color choices in her selection. That still left many options.

She tried on numerous garments, modeling and getting
Fiorella’s opinion. “Skirts or business suits, as well as dresses that are slightly form-fitting, are appropriate,” she said. Making the extra effort to choose the right color and style, Ella also had to find clothes that fit just right. Too many had sleeves too long, or skirts too short, or were just a little baggy in the wrong places. At last she had settled on a tasteful chrome-colored suit. It looked like pastel gray with a slight shine to it; the jacket had just two buttons, open above, showing the pale blue shell underneath. The skirt hung to just above the knee and the outfit was well tailored. It fit Ella, not too tightly, and enhanced her figure.

A single chain of gold around Ella’s neck accented the suit. It wasn’t wise to wear anything expensive or showy and tempt thieves. Silver medium-heeled pumps with rubber soles finished the look. It was better to walk with confidence than slip trying to navigate in heels too high, or soles that were too slick.

She’d straightened her long hair and used gloss drops to make it shine. To give a professional appearance, she did her makeup soft, not flashy, and put gloss over her medium pink lipstick. Looking in the mirror, Ella admired her reflection. Considering that only months before her wardrobe consisted of shorts and faded sweatshirts, she was pleased with how she looked.

Adam had already left for his meeting, so she put the earpiece in to let
Nico know she was ready. Since this was a public event and could be very noisy, he’d provided a small earpiece for her to easily contact him. That way if she needed to get his attention, all she had to do was speak into it and he’d hear her. “Ready?” he said in her ear.

“Yes, ready to go.” Of course, Ella couldn’t imagine needing the earpiece at the event since she knew
Nico would never take his eyes off of her. But she’d seen Adam use the same device many times, so she tried to get comfortable with it and forget that it was in her ear.

In the backseat of the Chrysler, tingling with anticipation, Ella looked forward to arriving at literary festival. Brazilian
Bookfest was to last for several days, but she likely wouldn’t need to be on site for all of it. There would be speakers, round-table sessions, and educational as well as business seminars. Many world-renowned authors were on the list, and the idea of meeting some of them in person was thrilling.

It was an international festival and had gained popularity over the years. There would be shows, exhibitions, workshops, and even film screenings. The list of attendees went beyond authors and publishers, including filmmakers, cartoonists, historians, journalists, and artists.

When they arrived, Nico opted for valet parking so he could escort her inside. She assumed his team would park in the regular lots and filter through the exhibits, in case they were needed. Designed for large events, the building was huge. Just inside, Ella stepped up to the long registration table and presented her verification. The paperwork was quick, and the clerk welcomed her, handing her a program. Ella put the lanyard with her nametag around her neck and turned toward the main hall.

Huge crowds milled about inside, stopping at exhibits or talking to people manning the various tables and displays. Immediately overwhelmed, Ella was glad to have
Nico beside her. Doubting her ability to make and real connections, she gazed around in awe. Feeling insignificant, and unknown, the promising idea of finding a publisher for her book seemed suddenly remote.

In her earpiece she heard
Nico. It was so loud inside that it worked better to speak to him through the device than to shout, despite the fact that he was nearby. “Ella, I don’t want to alarm you, but I observed someone following us.”

“Are you sure?” Ella said, rattled. That was all she needed, on top of being
a nobody
among the huge crowds. The day had taken a turn for the worse.

“Pretty sure.
The white compact followed us, and when I left the Chrysler with valet parking, that car pulled in behind us.”

“But that could be anybody. This is a huge event. There are thousands of people here.”

“But that particular car was behind us a block away from the house. The driver tried to stay back a few cars, and keep out of sight, but he’s an amateur. I had him in my sight the whole way.”

“How many people were in the car?”

“One male, dark hair, brown skin, no one I recognize. I’ll stay close. I doubt he’d try anything with this many witnesses. My guess is he’s just watching you.”

“Great,” Ella said sourly. What a lousy time for the cat-and-mouse game to start again. These few days were important to her. Recovering from her initial reaction to the sight of the large crowds, she took a breath and walked forward.

This was no time to fold. She’d put a lot of time and effort into writing the romance novel, sending query letters, researching ways to gain visibility, and preparing for the festival. There was no way she was going to see it all go to waste. Her throat tightened and her stomach clenched. The familiar feelings of inadequacy and shyness rose within her, attempting to take hold.

She thought of Adam, and how much he believed in her. Thoughts of her mother, and not wanting to let her down, surfaced. Plus, there was her career to think of. Being dependent was not something she aspired to. Maybe the dream of publishing her novel was only big thinking. Yet books were published every day of the year. She saw no reason it couldn’t be hers, unless she lacked the guts to offer it to the right people.

Scared, she was—but lacking in fortitude, never. On shaky legs, and with a knot in her stomach, she walked up to the closest table and picked up a brochure. Pretending to be interested in the company, she glanced at the display, and willed herself to calm down. Over her shoulder she carried a leather satchel
with a thin strap, serving as both purse and bag. Slipping the brochure inside, she remembered Fiorella’s tip: “Bags are never to be placed on the floor, because in Brazil it’s considered a sign of bad luck regarding money.”

Well, there was one thing in Ella’s favor—as long as she didn’t set the bag down, luck would be on her side. That small thing comforted her, and she stepped away from the table to examine her program. Watching a round-table discussion sounded good. It would give her time to get used to the noisy festival, and she’d learn something too. A couple of her favorite authors would be in the discussion. Her mood perked up.

The round table was up on a stage so the hundreds of attendees could see. The guests’ voices came through the speaker system loud enough to hear. Due to the international nature of the event, participants were from a variety of countries. Interpreters helped smooth the communications, relaying to English speakers what the others were saying and vice versa. It was very well orchestrated, and Ella could see the program format was not new. The talk intrigued her, covering a range of topics about the publishing business and book sales.

When the lights came on, she referred to her program, deciding what to do next. There was a section where publishers were exhibiting, and she decided to stroll by to get a look. If one of them looked approachable, she’d speak to a representative at the table. Fishing in the zipper pocket of her bag, she pulled out a couple of her business cards. Preparation and research was something she had an inclination for. So, before the festival she’d looked into good business practices in Brazil.

Her business cards were in English on one side and Portuguese on the other. For a Brazilian recipient, she’d hand the card to them with the Portuguese side up. If the person spoke another language, she’d use the English side, knowing that international businesses either spoke English or had interpreters.

Walking toward the exhibit hall, she reminded herself that easygoing, friendly business etiquette was the norm in Brazil. She’d need to relax. Making friends while nervous and tense wasn’t going to work. Since the event spanned several days, there was no pressure to make connections right away. Trying to remember that, she took more deep breaths before walking up to the first table.

As the day progressed, Ella got into the spirit of the event. The representatives were friendly, and she began to regain confidence. Often she was asked what type of story she wrote, and found it easy to discuss the basic plot of her romance novel. Losing count of how many business cards she’d handed out, Ella felt that she was doing pretty well. At least her name was out there, and maybe it would lead to something.

Of course, taking her card didn’t mean there was any interest in her book. Yet it was more interaction, and definitely better than sending out query letters that received no response. These were people she could actually talk to, and whether real or pretended, they showed interest in her and her work. That had to mean something. She’d just have to keep at it.

At the end of the day, it occurred to her that Nico hadn’t mentioned anyone watching them. She spoke into her earpiece. “Any sign of that guy again, the one who followed us?”

“No, haven’t seen him since he pulled into valet parking. It’s my guess he didn’t know you were coming to such a huge event. It’s unlikely he’d get in without being registered. So I think we are safe for today.”

That news was a relief. She’d be able to relax on the way home and look through all the information she’d collected. The next day should be even better. She was starting to get the hang of promoting. It wasn’t as difficult as she’d thought. A couple more days and she might even have a publisher. She couldn’t wait to tell Adam all about it over dinner.

*****

The next day, Ella wore one of the other suits she’d purchased. This one was just as appropriate, and a bit brighter. It was a light maroon color, and she looked sharp. Knowing the ropes now, as soon as Nico escorted her inside, she went straight to the publisher exhibits. Intending to focus on developing a relationship, profitable for both, she walked up to a table at the far end that she hadn’t been to before.

The man representing the publishing firm was dressed handsomely in a light beige suit with a deep blue tie. Knowing proper etiquette, she extended her hand first for the handshake as he came around the table to greet her. The display behind him was written in Portuguese, a language she now recognized, although she could only speak a few words.

The tall, dark man leaned down, and instead of shaking her hand, he gave her three kisses on alternate cheeks, the customary Brazilian greeting to women in the business world. The open affection and friendliness of the Brazilian people never ceased to please her. Not used to such open expressions of feelings, she appreciated it.

“
Bom dia,” he said, wishing her a good morning.

“
Bom dia,” she said, glad she’d practiced some conversational Portuguese with Adam in preparation for the event. Taking one of his brochures, she initiated conversation about the company he worked for. Luckily, he spoke English.

The interaction seemed to go well. Encouraged, Ella looked toward the other publisher exhibits. Glancing at some of the representatives at tables she’d visited the day before, she didn’t recognize many of the reps. It did make sense for companies to rotate their staff. Days were long, and with extended hours, it would take several shifts to keep the floor covered for the duration of the festival.

Ella turned to head toward a display she spotted, and bumped into someone.

“Excuse me,” she said, looking up at a lean man with graying temples. He looked sophisticated in his tan suit, sporting a silk tie with brown and gold stripes.