She went down the long hallway that housed the associates who’d earned the luxury of an office door. The presentation room was opposite the conference room, which looked over the park. Paul had explained the reasoning to Claire when they toured the empty shell of the top floor. Wow the customers with the million-dollar view, then take them into the presentation room and wow them with the work.
Presentation Studio. That’s what Paul had called it. Claire had forgotten until she saw the sign on the closed door. She didn’t bother knocking.
Adam swiveled around in his chair. He was watching a dry run of the presentation. Claire saw a slew of numbers alongside a quote from the mayor boasting that Atlanta was set to surpass Las Vegas for number of convention visitors.
“Claire?” Adam turned on the lights. He closed the door. He took her hands. “Is something wrong?”
She looked down at their hands. She would never feel another man’s touch without wondering whether or not she could really trust him.
She told Adam, “I’m sorry to bother you.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He indicated the chairs, but Claire didn’t sit down. “I was shitty to you with that note. I’m sorry I threatened you. I want you to know that I would’ve never gotten the lawyers involved. I needed the files, but I didn’t have to act like a thug.”
Claire wasn’t sure what to say. Her wariness had returned. Paul was such a good actor. Was Adam a good actor, too? Nolan claimed he’d grilled the shit out of Adam, but Nolan was a spectacular liar. They were all so much better at this than Claire.
She told Adam, “I know about the money.”
He winced. “I should’ve handled that between me and Paul.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just know that I’m sorry.”
“Please.” Claire touched his hand. The touch turned into a stroke, and his demeanor softened as easily as if she had pressed a button.
She said, “I want to know, Adam. Tell me what happened.”
“Things haven’t been good between us for a while. I guess that’s partly my fault. That whole thing with you was crazy.” He assured Claire, “Not that it wasn’t good, but it wasn’t right. I love Sheila. I know you loved Paul.”
“I did,” she agreed. “I thought you did, too. You’ve known him for twenty-one years.”
Adam went silent again. She touched her fingers to his cheek so that he would look at her. “Tell me.”
He shook his head again, but he said, “You know he had his moods, his bouts with depression.”
Claire had always thought that Paul was the most even-keeled person she had ever known. She guessed, “He got it from his dad.”
Adam didn’t disagree with her. “It seemed like lately, he couldn’t climb out of it. I guess it’s been a year, maybe two, since I felt like we were really friends. He always kept me at arm’s length, but this was different. And it hurt.” Adam did in fact look hurt. “I acted out. I shouldn’t have called the FBI, and believe me, I’m processing through it with my therapist, but something made me snap.”
Claire was reminded of one of the reasons she had never seen herself in anything long-term with Adam Quinn. He was constantly talking about his feelings.
He said, “I wasn’t just pissed off about the money. It was one more thing on top of the mood swings and the temper tantrums and his need to control everything and—I never meant for it to escalate. When that asshole from the FBI handcuffed him and walked him out of the office, I knew that was it. The look on Paul’s face. I’ve never seen him angry like that. He just kind of turned into this guy I had never seen before.”
Claire had seen what that guy was capable of. Adam was lucky Paul had been in handcuffs. “You dropped the charges. Was that because Paul paid the money back?”
“No.” He looked away from Claire. “I paid it back.”
Claire was sure she’d heard wrong. She had to repeat his words to make sure. “You paid back the money.”
“He knew about us. The three times.”
The three times.
Claire had been with Adam Quinn three times: at the Christmas party, during the golf tournament, and in the bathroom down the hallway while Paul was downstairs waiting for them to join him for lunch.
Fred Nolan had the answer to his first curious thing. Paul had stolen one million dollars for each time Adam had fucked her.