Wednesday Adams Novels & Stories

By the time Adam stepped back out into the Thursday night, the city was at a full simmer and his coffee was long cold and he had three things written in his phone's notes app that he hadn't had when he walked in. He also had, for reasons he couldn't quite put a precise finger on, the feeling that Adrian Vance was going to be very annoying to have around. In the best possible way.

"The Wednesday for correspondence." "Yes," Don said. "The bread Wednesday is for things of the immediate and domestic. The other Wednesday is for the outward-facing." This was a distinction that had emerged organically across the years, not as a rule but as a pattern that had become reliable enough to function as one. The bread Wednesdays — the Wednesdays when Ernest made the bread — were for the inward things: the household accounts, the correspondence with people who were part of the immediate circle, the planning of the week ahead. The other Wednesdays — the bread had been made on Tuesday that week, because of a scheduling adjustment — were for the outward-facing: the publisher, the edito

The woman who looked like she gargled crushed glass for breakfast every morning. "Well, look what the storm dragged in," Mrs. Adams drawled, her voice dripping with aristocratic condescension as she blocked our path. "Though I must say, I practically slept through the entire wedding ceremony. So utterly uninspired. Just dreadful." You slept through the wedding? I stared at her, my jaw practically unhinging. "Oh, trust me, lady, watching your son trap an innocent civilian in a legal hostage situation wasn't exactly high art either. Did you miss the part where I tried to bite his face off?"

The Wednesdays were just two people, sitting across from each other, figuring out who they were when the frame was removed. He was learning about Noah. Not the professional Noah, whom he had known thoroughly for five months, but the Noah who got to the cafe early and ordered the same thing every week and drove out of his way and had a laugh that arrived before he could stop it. Who read a great deal and had strong opinions about books he had recommended and was gratifyingly willing to argue about them. Who called his sister on Friday evenings and described it as a standing appointment, the same word he used for the Wednesdays, which Ethan noted and did not comment on. Who had been alone on t

Hawke make a great couple, then? "Thank you for your compliment, Mr. Thorn." Jonathan was rendered speechless by Stephanie's response. When the hell did he compliment her, dammit! "You can leave now, Jonathan," Adrian uttered icily. "C'mon, don't be nervous now. I still want to chat with Ms. Ford for a little longer." Jonathan completely ignored the warning glint in Adrian's eyes. The grin on his face was starting to become obnoxious. "Is that so? Then I shall have a nice chat with your father tomorrow."

He looked at me then nodded reassuringly and without saying a word he turned back to sit on the chair outside. I looked at the leading doctor and nodded politely then gestured for him to do his job. Minutes passed and an hour later, Adams who had been silent still on the chair suddenly made a move. I watched him pace around with a pale face and bloodshot eyes. He looked battered and uneasy and this made me realize how serious he is about Merina. Though this was my first time seeing Merina even if she was unconscious I could see she was a beauty. But I know Adams has never been the one to be attracted by just beauty.

My name is Mia Moss, and I've been in love with the Adams Carter for awhile. My mum worked as a maid for him and had been working there for over two years. When I go over to the his house, I would catch Adams staring silently at me. Adams was thirty years old and he was the CEO of a top rising car company. He barely ever said a word. But when he spoke, he never dared repeated his words. At first, I thought I disgusted him because I couldn't quite decipher the expression on his face. Other times, I thought I had a terrible body odour. I found myself changing my soaps and perfumes.

Chapter 80: Breaking Point Adams Hemsworth sat behind his mahogany desk, fingers pressed into his temples, the screen in front of him displaying red numbers and a slowly plummeting stock chart. He didn’t need the charts to tell him what he already knew—things weren’t looking good. The door creaked open, and his mother, Marina, entered, elegant as always, dressed in a deep violet suit and dripping with quiet power. He barely looked up. “If you’re here to remind me that I’ve messed up, save it. I’m not in the mood.”

By the way, I had promised to bring you here—and we're finally here! Mark glanced at Andy, trying to stir trouble between us. "Mr. Carlson, wherever my wife wants to go, I'll go with her. You don't need to worry about it!" Andy put his arm around my shoulder. Mark's face darkened, and I could not help but feel a little pleased. I looped my arm around Andy's and walked into our room. We had a wonderful evening on our first night in Hawaii. The next morning, Andy was not in the room when I woke up. He left a note saying he would return with breakfast.

I was feeling horrible, but this made everything worse. If Christabel had been here, she would have known what to do. I miss my wife so much. I wonder what she would be doing now, and how she felt after hearing the news. As I thought, the sound of the door opening caught my attention, and a disheveled Adam walked in. His face was gaunt, filled with deep frustration, but his shaky hands running through his greasy hair told me his urge to smoke. Adam was an old-time smoke addict. Before he met Katherine, to alleviate the stress from work, he took a cigarette or two.