Not My Type: Adele

"That may be," I relented. "But that doesn't make us any more right for one another. I would disappoint him. How could I live with myself knowing I couldn't be everything Nate needed?"

Adam reached forward and gave my upper arms a friendly squeeze. "You're not giving yourself enough credit my dear, but seeing as I'm often accused of the same personality flaw, I won't harp on it. The receptionist said you were free for the rest of the day, what do you say I buy you a drink? It's the least I can do."

I wavered, torn between the desire to sulk in private and Adam's warm friendliness.

"I could really use a drink," I confessed with a half-smile.

"'Atta, girl," Adam teased. He swept up his discarded toque and settled it back on his head. "And as an apology for torturing you, we can change the topic of discussion. If you're going to be my lawyer I guess I should let you in on all my little secrets." He waited while I put on my coat and swapped my pumps for boots in preparation for the foot of snow outside. Adam held the office door for me and ushered me through it with a dramatic sweep of his arm. I laughed, glad that the mood between us had lightened.

"All your secrets?" I teased as we made our way out of the building and out into the street. Automatically we both started walking in the same direction -- towards Mac's pub and the coldest beer in town. It was only a few blocks from the firm where I worked.

Adam took my hand and settled it into the crook of arm in a gentlemanly concession to the slippery sidewalks. "Well, maybe not all of them..." he joked. "Unless you want to know about the little place on the back of Lilly's neck that makes her melt and purr when you kiss it just right?"

I giggled and shook my head. "No, not particularly."

"Shame," Adam muttered. "That was sort of a nice mental picture just then."

I elbowed him in the ribs and his laughter joined mine.

"If you're going to be my lawyer though, Ms. Leclerc," he continued in a falsely officious sounding voice, "you probably should know my sad story."

I hadn't thought of that. I knew nothing about Adam's past—about what he'd done to get himself incarcerated. If Lilly knew she'd never shared his secret with us and I was very curious.

"I think I'm definitely going to need a drink now."

"Oh, at least two," Adam agreed. "And maybe some nachos."

Mac's had only a handful of patrons, which I suppose was typical for a Wednesday afternoon in February. Adam and I slid into a booth in the corner and put our order for beer and nachos in with the pretty brunette bartender who came over to welcome us.

It wasn't until after she'd returned with our pints and retreated back behind the bar that Adam leaned forward with his elbows on the table and his pint between his hands. "A long time ago I was a different person," he began. He stopped for a moment, considering me. "I was angry a lot of the time. I sort of grew up that way. My dad left when I was young and my mom never seemed to care much about my sister and me. We were sort of left to raise ourselves, Kat and I.

"I went to France to escape. I was already cooking in restaurants in Toronto and I thought that if I went to Paris for a few years that I'd learn a little discipline. I wanted to be great at something, you know?"

I nodded and sipped at my beer and let Adam continue.

"France wasn't what I thought it would be. The kitchens were so competitive and I was just some dumb Canuck who didn't know shit about food. It was really tough but I think I learned a lot. Of course when I made the decision to come back home I sort of let my years in Paris go to my head." His emerald eyes turned mischievous. "I guess a little of that snobbishness rubbed off on me.

"When I got back to Toronto I started working right away in this restaurant downtown. It wasn't a bad place, and the owners were impressed with me and my experience in Paris. I guess they thought it leant me a little legitimacy as a chef. I earned my first star working there. I'm ashamed to admit this, but I sort of lorded it over the rest of the staff too. I liked the attention, I guess. The owner's son didn't care too much for me and my attitude, and I didn't like his either. He was the kind of guy who thought he could float through life because of who his parents were. I hated that. I mean, I had an attitude too, but at least I earned mine. And in-between the two of us there was this girl..."

Adam paused and looked up at me. He had a sorrowful grin on his face and I knew we were getting to the heart of his story. I should have figured it would be about a girl.

"Her name was Kelly and she was a waitress at the restaurant and it wasn't how you think it was. At least not between us," he smiled at me and paused for a long drink of beer. "I liked her, felt protective of her, like a brother. She was so young and new to the city and so naïve. I knew she'd get eaten alive like that, so I tried to look out for her."

There was a small sort of nostalgic twist to Adam's mouth. "Maybe it was stupid, I don't know, but she was so damn pure and I was so damn cynical—I thought maybe I could shield her from the sort of things in life that damage you, the way I felt I was damaged."

After a moment, Adam began again. "Eric though, the owner's son, he didn't feel that way about Kelly. He felt pretty much the opposite. He wanted her and he wanted her bad. It was like her naivety fed his lust. She didn't want anything to do with him, of course. She said he scared her. She thought he'd followed her home from work once or twice, but she couldn't be sure. Eric was the sort who didn't take 'no' for an answer. He had such a hard-on for her and he didn't understand why Kelly didn't want him in return."

Adam paused as our nachos were delivered to the table. Neither of us made a move to touch them.

"Anyway," he continued. "One night after closing, I'm in the walk-in cooler, checking supplies, making notes of what we'd need for the following day. I step back out after fifteen minutes or so and Eric's there in the kitchen with Kelly. He'd been bothering her all night, following her around, not doing much in the way of work, and just trying so damn hard to get at her.

"I just stood there for a minute and watched. He's grabbing at her and trying to talk her into it and the more she says 'no', the madder he gets. The madder he gets, the madder I get."

Judging by the faraway look on Adam's face, he wasn't sitting across the table from me—he was in some darkened kitchen years before.

"Next thing I know he's calling her names, yelling at her -- and then hauls off and hits her."

I gasped and Adam's emerald eyes came back into focus.

"Well I lost it," he continued. "I should have stepped in before, I know. I was so goddamned mad. I don't remember crossing the room, I only remember hitting Eric and he was hitting me back. We're fighting and Kelly's screaming and crying. I can see there's blood on her blouse and I know it's hers. And the whole time Eric is talking, calling her a slut, a tease, a bitch, accusing the two of us of doing some pretty filthy things together."

"He was goading you." The realization sprang from my mouth without my thinking to stop it. "He hated you—he probably thought it would get you fired."

Adam nodded. "You're probably right and it probably would have, seeing as he was the owner's son. I didn't consider that at the time though. All I knew was that he'd hurt Kelly. It was like everything was happening too fast and yet at the same time it was like it was in slow motion. Do you know what I mean?"

I swallowed wordlessly and nodded, remembering the day I'd come home early from work to find my husband in our bed with another woman. It had felt like I was falling and floating all at once -- like I was looking down at the scene from higher up, like it was happening to someone else and not to me.

I exchanged a sympathetic smile with Adam before he went on. "All of a sudden I see Eric lunge towards the service counter and I know, I know he's going for a knife. All I can think is if he gets rid of me what's he going to do to Kelly?

"I didn't think, I just grabbed the closest thing at hand and swung it at him. I had to stop him, I couldn't let him hurt her any more. I hit him in the head pretty hard..." Adam faltered and behind the fierce look in his eyes I saw a little flicker of something else, like a lost little boy who knew he'd done wrong.

We both sat staring at each other for a moment.

"W-what did you hit him with Adam?" I prompted when my curiosity overcame my shock. I needed to know and didn't want to know all at once.

"A cast-iron frying pan."

"Jesus!"

"It wasn't hot," Adam rushed to offer. "Not that it mattered. Eric fell to the floor. There was just so much blood." Adam's hand gripped his pint of beer a little tighter before he took a deep drink.

"By this point Kelly's hysterical, she's grabbing at me and crying and I'm thinking that I've killed him... I didn't know what to do, didn't know what I'd done." Adam took a deep, shuddering breath. "There was so much blood. I had to call an ambulance, I couldn't just leave him there. And when the cops showed up, they arrested me. I was so confused...I didn't know what to do.

"I admitted everything, of course, because I didn't really understand at the time that I'd done something wrong. It wasn't until later that I found out Kelly's statement to the police didn't match mine. I don't know if she was ashamed or scared or what, but she didn't tell them what he'd done to her. She didn't press charges and of course when Eric regained consciousness he sure as hell didn't tell them."

"That must have looked bad for you," I put in softly.

Adam's chuckle was dry and cynical. "Oh yeah. Eric's parent's money got him one of the best lawyers in town. All I had was an overworked public defender. Next thing I know I've got nine years for assault with a deadly weapon."

My mouth fell open. "Didn't Kelly testify?"

Adam shook his head. "She never offered to. She wouldn't talk to my lawyer about it anymore than she'd talk to the cops. It was like Eric never touched her."

"She was young," I tried to explain just as much to myself as to him. "And scared."

Adam smiled a sad smile. "I know that now. Nate said the same thing to me years ago when I first told him this story. You're both right, but at the time though... oh, I was pissed."

"Of course you were."

"I'm afraid I didn't help my own case much. It was well known that Eric and I hated each other. And I already had a few of these," Adam pulled up his sleeves, exposing his beautifully tattooed arms. "So God knows I looked the part. I was angry at the world and I didn't do a very good job of hiding it."

"You'd been betrayed," I said. "It's only natural, trust me on that. Did you ever see Kelly again? Ever speak to her?"

He shook his head. "I tried writing her while I was in jail, but I couldn't bring myself to mail any of the letters."

I looked down to find my beer was gone. I didn't even remember drinking it. I pushed the empty pint away. "Whatever happened to her?"

Before Adam could answer the pretty bartender appeared with two more pints. She smiled at us but said nothing before turning away again.

"I love the service here," Adam chuckled, and then he remembered himself. "Whatever happened to Kelly? No idea. I thought about looking her up when I was paroled, but I never did. Too much time had passed."

I wrapped my hands around the cool, damp glass. It was such a normal gesture, such an everyday feeling that it was a little incongruous with the events of the afternoon. "How much time had passed?"

Adam finished off his first beer with a healthy quaff. "Three years, ten months, nineteen days."

"Early parole," I pointed out. "Good for you. That will work well in our favour."

He smiled and picked at the edge of our now cold plate of nachos. "That was mostly Nate's doing. He was the chaplain at the correctional centre where I was. He vouched for me. After my release I spent a few months in a half-way house in Toronto, which was almost as bad as jail, to be honest.

"I was miserable. It was hard being back out in the real world. At first no one would hire me. I eventually got a job washing dishes at some shitty restaurant in Chinatown. It felt like everything I worked for, everything I was before that night was gone—maybe that it had never even existed.

"By that point Nate had taken a parish here on the island. He was the only friend I had at that time in my life and I missed him. I was low, lower that I'd ever been. Nate found me my job here, helped me have my parole transferred here. He's the reason I got a fresh start. If it wasn't for him, I don't know where I'd be."

I reached across the table to where Adam had his hands resting and gave his fingers a quick, comforting squeeze.

"Thank you for trusting me with this."

Adam's gaze turned serious. "Thank you for listening and for helping me. Don't tell Lilly about any of this though, okay? I want to surprise her—not just with the ring, but with the pardon too."

I nodded. "Lawyer-client privilege. I won't say a word."

Adam leaned back and stretched his arms across the top of the booth's padded bench. Like magic he took on the relaxed, care-free demeanor I'd grown accustomed to. "Now I know I promised a change of topic, but I just want to put two more cents in on the subject of you and Nate."

"Adam..." I warned him with a look.

"I know, I know. It's none of my business," he said as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "It's just...I don't know what happened between you two on Sunday at Rhi's and I don't want to know," he rushed on before I could interrupt. "But if there's something one of you needs to apologize for, service at St. Andrew's is at nine-thirty on Sunday mornings. I know he'd love to see you there."

Adam quickly changed the subject to safer matters and I though I joined his polite chatter, the idea of taking in Sunday morning service at Nate's church played on in my head. I was infinitely curious about that part of his life, and anyway I'd never been to a Presbyterian church before. Apart from Nate's performing Rhi and Joe's wedding I'd never seen him work. Did he consider it work?

I was still mulling it over as Adam walked me back to my office more than an hour later. When finally I settled at my desk, I noticed the red light blinking on my phone. I cradled the receiver between my cheek and shoulder then picked up a pen, prepared to take notes for whichever client call I'd missed.

It was Lilly. Her voice sounded wobbly, like she was trying not to cry. "Adele? Where are you? I really need to talk." There was pause then a gasping hiccup. "I think Adam might be cheating on me."

To be continued...