Ask Adam (8 page)

He took a deep breath. “It would seem, Lexi, that today’s meeting started out on the wrong foot.”

Crap, there he went again, saying her name like it was a lover’s caress or something.

“There’s a little restaurant just across the road.” He motioned behind him. “Will you join me for a coffee? Maybe we can start again. On the right foot this time.”

Because he smiled as he said it, and kept his arm on her back, she walked beside him without argument as he made his way across the road and into the coffee shop.

Chapter Five

Adam watched Lexi pull some sheets from her briefcase and bite on her lower lip. That little habit of hers would be the death of him. It was totally provocative and elicited a bone-deep response from him. It should be his lip she chewed, not her own.

He wanted her. So bad, he considered tossing the coffee out of the way, hauling her across the table, onto his lap, and possessing her mouth again. That way, at least, he could hold her sweet butt against his cock, which was still rigid and demanding the release he’d ruthlessly suppressed in the elevator.

The pressure did little to relieve the pain of his headache.

His thoughts stretched back to Melbourne. He couldn’t stop them. Their night together had been the most intense experience he’d had in a decade. The sex had been amazing but it wasn’t the only part that had gotten to him. She’d given herself to him completely, held nothing back. As a result, he’d done the same.

Which was a bit of a shocker really, because he never let go. Not with anyone.

When he’d woken to find her spooned against him, still asleep, his gut had churned with emotion he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Lexi represented everything he no longer believed in. She embodied life and love and hope, and it vibrated through him, straight to that dark place in his heart. That place where hope had died long ago.

He hadn’t been able to deal with it. He hadn’t wanted to. So he’d come home to Sydney and left Matt behind to complete the business deal. Back at the office, Genevieve had dealt the killer blow. She told him about the appointment.

Two major thoughts had dominated: One—he’d wanted to see her again as much as he hadn’t wanted to. And two—she’d known who he was all along. Both thoughts had been hell to deal with. He should have cancelled. Should have referred her on to Matt. Why hadn’t he?

“You haven’t heard a word.” Lexi raised her voice slightly, forcing his attention back to her. “I’m not sure why you insisted on having coffee if you’re not interested in what I have to say.” Her cheeks were still flushed, although her erratic breathing had evened out.

He massaged his forehead and thought about her orgasm in the lift. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s not you—”

“Headache?” she asked.

He nodded. “Blinding.” Made worse by sexual frustration.

She scratched around in her bag and pulled out a box of painkillers. “Help yourself.”

Gratefully, he accepted the box, drinking two pills down with a gulp of coffee. He wondered if somewhere in her bag she had a cure for a massive erection.

“Better?” she asked.

“It will be. Thanks.” He passed the box back to her.

“Look, Mr. Riley—”

“Adam,” he corrected and repressed a smile. “After what we’ve shared, ‘mister’ sounds a little too formal, don’t you think?”

“Look…Adam.” The color in her face deepened. “Regardless of what…we’ve shared, or of what just happened, I’m only here to discuss the sibling program. I’m honestly not interested in trading insults or arguing with you. Or making reference to…us. Can you handle that? Can we keep this meeting on a strictly professional basis? To be blunt, the project’s too important to me to waste my time with anything else.”

This time he couldn’t hold back his smile. “Go ahead, Lexi. You have my full attention.”

For a moment she just stared at him, then she blinked and shook her head. “As I said, the initial letter I sent outlines the basics of the project. This proposal is more detailed.” She pushed a folder to him. “Anything we don’t cover today is mentioned in there. The project will be based at POWS, even though it’s not aimed at the patients. Its primary purpose is to provide support to siblings of children with cancer.”

Adam settled back in his seat. Despite his headache, she had his full attention and he knew she could see it. Her tone warmed to her subject.

“The siblings are the forgotten victims in the fight against cancer. All focus is put on the sick child, which is understandable. The problem is, the brothers and sisters also experience anxiety and distress, and their needs are often overlooked by parents and caregivers in the struggle to treat the patient.”

Adam nodded. The trend wasn’t foreign to him—he knew more than any person should need to about childhood cancer.

Lexi continued. “These kids have to adapt to so many new things so quickly, the experience can be overwhelming. Their once healthy siblings are sick. How are they supposed to cope? Apart from the obvious worry about the sibling, they may also experience associated guilt, guilt that they’re healthy and the sibling’s not. Or there’s the fear that they could get sick too. They have no control of the situation. They’ve learned the hard way that no one’s invincible.”

“It’s a traumatic lesson,” Adam agreed.

“And there’s so much more,” Lexi said, her voice filled with passion. “They need to learn new patterns of relating to other family members. All the family dynamics change. For example, parents may focus more on the sick child, neglecting the healthy sibling. Or that sibling may suddenly find him or herself looking after younger siblings, or doing the housework, or performing other roles formerly done by the parents.”

She paused and took another sip of coffee. Her eyes settled on his face. “How’s your head?”

He nodded, surprised. “A little better, actually.”

“Good.” She smiled and got straight back to business. “These kids have no outlet for their new emotions and anxieties. Their parents are involved with the sibling. The sibling is often too ill to speak to, and their friends can’t comprehend what they’re going through. Where do they turn? Whom do they talk to?”

“There are counselors at the hospital, social workers and psychologists like yourself. Surely it’s your role to speak to these children.”

Lexi nodded. “It is and we do. Most times, however, intervention is aimed at the parents and the sick child. Don’t get me wrong, plenty of siblings receive counseling or are referred to appropriate support groups, and they do well. It’s the ones who slip through the cracks who suffer. Our project targets all the siblings, not just those lucky enough to have already been reached by the system.”

“So what is it exactly you plan to do? Why do you think you can reach these children when others before you haven’t?”

“We intend to identify siblings from the first hospital admission. When a new patient is admitted, notes will be made about siblings, and the information sent through to us. When the time is right, a staff member will approach the parents to discuss the possibility of the siblings joining the program.”

“When the time is right?”

“The family’s in crisis. They’d need time to adjust to both the illness and the treatment before we introduced the concept of sibling intervention. We can’t let too much time pass, though. The siblings are in crisis too, and the sooner we get to them, the better.”

“So what will your program offer?”

“It’s a threefold service with a primary focus on counseling and support. We’d also offer education about the disease, maybe even a chance for the kids to meet with the doctors and ask questions that their parents can’t or won’t answer. Finally, the program would give the children a place to go when they don’t know where else to turn.”

“Where would your offices be?”

“Next to the pediatric oncology ward. I have approval from the hospital board to utilize a few empty rooms. We’d convert them into a lounge, a toy room, a counseling room and an office for the staff members.”

“Who is the ‘we’ you keep referring to?”

“Hospital social workers and nurses who have volunteered to help. I still need a full-time person to coordinate and manage the whole project. Someone new. The volunteers can’t give more than a few hours a week of their time. They already have full-time jobs.”

“What about you? This is your baby, why not see it through?” She’d be good for the job. She knew her stuff and she obviously had an invested interest in the program. Most of all, she cared.

Lexi laughed. “I’m already employed full time by the hospital. I’d be able to set a few hours aside each week to help out, but it’s not enough to ensure the program runs smoothly.”

“Why the interest in this specific program?” He knew the answer. He knew almost everything about her.

Lexi hesitated. She gave him a wary look, then shrugged. “I was once one of those kids. When I was ten, my sister was diagnosed with leukemia.”

“Is she…did she survive?”

“Yeah. She’s one of the lucky ones.”

“What was it like for you, when she was sick?” He shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t find out any more about her. He couldn’t help himself.

“A year straight from hell,” Lexi said. “I was too young to grasp the severity of the situation. Sarah was sick, my parents were devastated and the family almost fell apart.” She played with her coffee cup. “I was an emotional wreck, swinging from sad to happy, to angry to jealous. I had trouble concentrating at school, and apart from my brother, I didn’t have any real support.” She looked him dead in the eye. “I could really have used a little professional help then.”

“What about now?” Was she over the trauma or did it still haunt her?

“I’ve worked through it. Took a while, though. I would have coped better if I’d received intervention when Sarah was first diagnosed.”

“And thus the sibling program?”

“And thus the sibling program,” she agreed. “Far as I’m concerned, POWS can provide a way more comprehensive and holistic service if we treat the whole family and not just the patient.”

Lexi cared, Adam realized. She gave a damn about what happened to people, even if she didn’t know them
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and she had no trouble showing it.

A sudden sense of claustrophobia overpowered him. He had to get away from her. Once before, he’d seen this side of her. At her brother’s exhibition. He’d liked that she gave a damn. He’d liked it too much. Now it scared him shitless. What if she began to care about him? What if she began to show it? Worse, what if he began to care about her?

He wouldn’t. AJ Riley flew solo. Full stop. She might be the caring type. He wasn’t. Not any more.

Damn it, he had to get away.

“Okay. What’s the bottom line here? Give me a figure, how much do you need?”

She frowned in confusion and he couldn’t blame her. One minute he acted warm and interested, and the next, cold and dismissive.

“Fifty thousand dollars—to start. That’s a rough estimate, though. The proposal includes a detailed costs analysis.”

He gave the document a cursory glance, then put it on the seat beside him. Later, he’d go over it with a fine-toothed comb, the way he went over any business document. In the meantime, he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“You’re good, Lexi, you know that?” He deliberately kept his voice colder than the deadened area in his heart.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your little show was good. I almost bought the ‘I’m innocent’ act.”

“What?” she spluttered, “you still think I slept with you to get your money?”

“Didn’t you?”

Her face turned scarlet.

“It worked,” he told her. “Must have been the added extra in the lift earlier. I’m honestly considering giving you the funds.” He leered at her breasts, hating himself as he did it. “If you’d consider trying to convince me again.”

Lexi flew out of her seat. Grabbing her almost empty cup, she threw the dregs in his face. The cold coffee hit him square in the eyes and dripped down his nose and cheeks.