bank account.
The waiter has arrived with our food, and I silently consider the problem, as a plate of savoury pancakes and poached eggs are set in front of me.
The food looks incredible, and my growling stomach attests to the effect of the martini. I’m starving.
George’s twenty-first birthday. It’s a biggie. I need a really good gift.
My band-mate comes from a family who bought her a pony when she was five. I don’t think she’d appreciate a handmade card and present.
Adam reads the turmoil in my face with an interested expression.
“Want me to help you out?” he asks.
My eyes flick up to his in surprise.
“How do you mean?”
Adam picks up his cutlery and slices into his own plate of eggs. Bright yellow yoke stains the plate.
“I mean,” he says, “That I know Sing -Win aren’t paying any salaries yet. And I’m guessing, you weren’t earning much prior to that.”
“What makes you think that?” I say defensively.
Adam smiles. “Oh, just the little fact that you were living in a bedsit with two other girls. I looked up your address,” he adds, in answer to the question on my face. “I wanted to find out more about you.”
“You know that does actually count as stalking,” I laugh, wondering whether to be offended at the assumptions he’s correctly made. “You’re not allowed to use contestant information like that.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” shrugs Adam. “In any case,” he continues, “I’m guessing you have cash flow problems. So I’m going to help you out. Just temporarily,” he adds with a wink, “before Summer Evans becomes a millionaire household name.”
I laugh, defeated by his charm.
“Help me out how?” I ask cautiously. I hate the idea of taking money off him.
And I can’t imagine how else Adam could help with a present for George.
“I won’t take money off you,” I add, taking a bite of my own food. The eggs combined with the soft pancakes are heavenly.
“I thought you might have a silly hang -up about that,” replies Adam, swallowing his bite of breakfast. “So I wasn’t going to suggest it. But by my calculations, I still have you for another few hours, before your next studio time.”
I nod, wondering how he’s memorised my schedule so perfectly.
I take another hungry mouthful of eggs, and Adam looks on appreciatively as I swallow with relish.
“These are good,” I say, hoping my appetite hasn’t overtaken my table manners.
He beams at me. “I’m glad you like them.”
“So,” he continues, “I had plans to take you jewellery shopping.”
Adam sips his coffee as my eyes widen.
“You did? But you already bought me jewellery,” I say, fingering the St Cecilia necklace at my throat. “You don’t need to buy me more. I love this.”
“The necklace is something with meaning from me,” says Adam. “A romantic gift. But now I feel like buying you something truly outrageously decadent.”
I smile.
“You don’t need to spend a lot of money on me,” I say gently. “It’s you I want. Not your pop star bank account.”
He smiles back.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” he says. “Summer, you have more integrity than any girl I’ve met.”
He pushes his dark hair out of his face with a mischievous grin.
“Which is why I want to buy you some fancy jewellery. You deserve it.”
He nods at me. “And it just so happens,” he adds, “I have an account at the shop we’re going to. Why don’t you pick out something for George there, as well as yourself?”
My face splits into a smile of gratitude.
“On account? So I could pay you back? You’re sure?”
Jewellery would be perfect for George .
I’m already planning what might suit her best. Although I’d better hope he’s taking me to a store with some budget options so I can repay him.
“I’d be offended if you tried to pay me back,” says Adam as if reading my thoughts. “Think of it as a down payment from Sing-Win,” he adds.
“I don’t
The waiter has arrived with our food, and I silently consider the problem, as a plate of savoury pancakes and poached eggs are set in front of me.
The food looks incredible, and my growling stomach attests to the effect of the martini. I’m starving.
George’s twenty-first birthday. It’s a biggie. I need a really good gift.
My band-mate comes from a family who bought her a pony when she was five. I don’t think she’d appreciate a handmade card and present.
Adam reads the turmoil in my face with an interested expression.
“Want me to help you out?” he asks.
My eyes flick up to his in surprise.
“How do you mean?”
Adam picks up his cutlery and slices into his own plate of eggs. Bright yellow yoke stains the plate.
“I mean,” he says, “That I know Sing -Win aren’t paying any salaries yet. And I’m guessing, you weren’t earning much prior to that.”
“What makes you think that?” I say defensively.
Adam smiles. “Oh, just the little fact that you were living in a bedsit with two other girls. I looked up your address,” he adds, in answer to the question on my face. “I wanted to find out more about you.”
“You know that does actually count as stalking,” I laugh, wondering whether to be offended at the assumptions he’s correctly made. “You’re not allowed to use contestant information like that.”
“All’s fair in love and war,” shrugs Adam. “In any case,” he continues, “I’m guessing you have cash flow problems. So I’m going to help you out. Just temporarily,” he adds with a wink, “before Summer Evans becomes a millionaire household name.”
I laugh, defeated by his charm.
“Help me out how?” I ask cautiously. I hate the idea of taking money off him.
And I can’t imagine how else Adam could help with a present for George.
“I won’t take money off you,” I add, taking a bite of my own food. The eggs combined with the soft pancakes are heavenly.
“I thought you might have a silly hang -up about that,” replies Adam, swallowing his bite of breakfast. “So I wasn’t going to suggest it. But by my calculations, I still have you for another few hours, before your next studio time.”
I nod, wondering how he’s memorised my schedule so perfectly.
I take another hungry mouthful of eggs, and Adam looks on appreciatively as I swallow with relish.
“These are good,” I say, hoping my appetite hasn’t overtaken my table manners.
He beams at me. “I’m glad you like them.”
“So,” he continues, “I had plans to take you jewellery shopping.”
Adam sips his coffee as my eyes widen.
“You did? But you already bought me jewellery,” I say, fingering the St Cecilia necklace at my throat. “You don’t need to buy me more. I love this.”
“The necklace is something with meaning from me,” says Adam. “A romantic gift. But now I feel like buying you something truly outrageously decadent.”
I smile.
“You don’t need to spend a lot of money on me,” I say gently. “It’s you I want. Not your pop star bank account.”
He smiles back.
“Do you think I don’t know that?” he says. “Summer, you have more integrity than any girl I’ve met.”
He pushes his dark hair out of his face with a mischievous grin.
“Which is why I want to buy you some fancy jewellery. You deserve it.”
He nods at me. “And it just so happens,” he adds, “I have an account at the shop we’re going to. Why don’t you pick out something for George there, as well as yourself?”
My face splits into a smile of gratitude.
“On account? So I could pay you back? You’re sure?”
Jewellery would be perfect for George .
I’m already planning what might suit her best. Although I’d better hope he’s taking me to a store with some budget options so I can repay him.
“I’d be offended if you tried to pay me back,” says Adam as if reading my thoughts. “Think of it as a down payment from Sing-Win,” he adds.
“I don’t
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