by Bay, Louise
“It’s not right,” I replied.
“Is she not a neckerchief kind of gal?” she asked as we moved toward some glass cabinets holding wallets.
I’d never seen Grace in a scarf. I’d never really thought about what she was wearing beyond how it showed off her body. “I don’t think so.”
Despite our differences, I found myself wanting more of Grace. More of her time, more of her body. I craved her thoughts on everyday things. I wanted to watch the way she blinked, slower and slower, as she climbed toward orgasm. I knew that she had an unaffected belly laugh and a polite, rehearsed smile. Even now, I was thinking about her when I should be paying attention to Angie. I was following Grace deeper along a dark corridor, not knowing what lay at the end. But I couldn’t stop, couldn’t turn back.
“Who uses a passport holder?” Angie asked, peering over the glass cabinet. “So what’s she like, this girl who has you buying her gifts?”
“She doesn’t have me buying her gifts.” I wandered around the row of cabinets. There was nothing here for Grace. “She invited me to her birthday. It’s polite to bring a present.” Grace wasn’t interested in my money. If she wanted to be with someone wealthy, she wouldn’t have a history of dating penniless artists or be working in a gallery she’d financed herself. “She’s not like that.”
“Okay, Mr. Sensitive. You have to admit that this is a watershed moment. You’ve never agonized over buying a woman a gift before.”
“I’m not agonizing,” I said. “I just want to get something that will suit her.”
“Then tell me what she’s like. Maybe that will give us some ideas.”
“She’s nice.” I shrugged and a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Funny. Passionate about what she does.”
“And when you say, ‘what she does’, you mean she does you passionately.” Angie wiggled her eyebrows.
It should have been amusing, but it didn’t sit right with me for some reason. “Don’t say that.”
“Jesus. Calm down. I’m making a joke. You’ve got it bad, my friend.” She turned and walked left toward some other stands full of useless crap.
I caught up with her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I just want to find this present and get out of here. You know I hate places like this.” It was true that shopping wasn’t my thing and I didn’t want Angie to get things out of proportion and think my dating Grace was anything more than it was.
She shrugged. “Fine. But there are plenty of pretty things here, Sam. You just need to pick one.”
But I couldn’t get just anything. When I’d taken Grace to the Frick, she’d seemed so happy with my choice, and I wanted to create that same look on her face. “I took her to the Frick for dinner on our first date and she seemed to like that. Maybe I could do something like that again? Rather than a gift.”
Angie pulled her eyebrows. “What, like you took her to the visitor café?”
“No. I hired the place out on a Saturday night. We took in the paintings and had a nice dinner in one of the rooms.”
When Angie didn’t respond, I glanced back to see if she was listening, but she was just staring at me, her mouth slightly open as if I’d told her I was going to buy the Empire State building. “What?” I asked.
“You hired out the entire Frick?”
“Yes.”
“For your first date?”
Had she not heard me correctly? “Yes. And she seemed to like it so—”
Angie snorted. “I bet she did. That’s the stuff of fairytales. You really like this girl.” She grinned so wide her face looked like it was cracking in half.
I started to head toward the door, but Angie caught up with me and shoved my shoulder. “Sam,” she said, still grinning. “You really like this girl. The Frick? That’s serious shit.”
“It’s no big deal. I just thought she’d like it and I didn’t want to be bothered by the crowds.”
“It is so a big deal. That’s the kind of shit a guy pulls when he’s in deep.”
I pushed the door open and stepped out onto the street. “Well, I’m not in deep. You know me.”
“I do,” Angie said from behind me. “That’s why it’s so exciting. I think you may be falling in love.” She squealed, which, added to her ludicrous ramblings, was more than irritating.
I shoved my hands into my pockets. “Don’t be ridiculous.” I turned north, not sure where I was heading. Angie followed, pulling her jacket tighter.
“It’s not ridiculous. It’s wonderful, Sam. I thought it may never happen. I’m so glad because it’s such an amazing feeling—you deserve all the happiness.”
I squinted at the sun that persisted despite the cold. “It’s nothing like that. Don’t get too excited. We’re just hanging out.”
“I can’t wait to tell Chas. And the four of us can go on dates.”
“Angie. Seriously, stop. I need to find a gift and you’re being no help.” I didn’t want to buy Grace something just for the sake of it. She knew how little value I placed on material things. So if I bought her something expensive but impersonal, she’d know it didn’t mean anything, that I hadn’t given it any thought.
“Promise me I won’t lose you.” Angie stopped walking and grabbed at my coat sleeve. “I love my husband. He’s a good man and we can talk about everything.” Her eyes went a little glassy. “But what you and I went through can’t be understood by anyone who hasn’t experienced it.” I knew what she meant. Chas knew the Angie who’d survived, not the girl who’d had to get there. I just didn’t understand why she thought she’d lose me.
“What are you talking about? I’ve not been able to shake you so far.”
“I mean it, Sam. What if Grace and I don’t get along? We won’t be able to spend so much time together; we’ll gradually lose contact.”
I held Angie’s shoulders. “You’re being crazy. I’m not in love with Grace and you and I will be friends until the end of time.”
“I can’t lose you.” Her gaze dropped to the ground. “I want you to be happy, but I want to be a part of that.”
I pinned her arms to her body and brought her close. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“You’re hugging me,” Angie said. “I’ve known you fifteen years and you’ve never hugged me.”
“Just go with it.”
She stood limply, me wrapped around her. “I will never leave you,” I said. “You will never lose me.”
And I wasn’t in love with Grace Astor.
Chapter Fifteen
Grace
I kept glancing at the doorway to the Four Seasons, hoping to find Sam. I’d asked him to bring Angie and her husband. Apparently her husband was busy but Sam and Angie were going to make it. It would be the first time I’d meet her, and I was nervous. I knew how much he valued her opinion. How she seemed to be the only person he listened to. If she didn’t like me, then what? Would it affect Sam and me? It had been a little over a week since he’d told me about his parents’ deaths, but I’d seen or spoken to him every day since and things were going so well, I just wanted Angie to give us her seal of approval.
“Is he here yet?” Harper asked from behind me.
I peeled my gaze away from the entrance. “No. You’ll know when you see him. How’s the baby?”
“The baby’s a baby. She doesn’t do much. I want to hear about Sam. Is he the first man you’ve dated with a real job? Does he know what to do with his tongue?”
“You know we’re in public, right?” I asked.
She shrugged as her husband, Max, and her sister-in-law, Scarlett, joined us. “Happy birthday,” Max said, kissing me on the cheek.
“Thank you.”
“Happy birthday,” Sam said from behind me. I shivered. Had I ever known a man whose voice could make my whole body react? With just four syllables, Sam had made my nipples hard and my knees weak. I looked over my shoulder just as his hand slipped around my waist. He grinned at me and kissed me on the lips.
We were re
ally doing this.
And for the first time I wasn’t making sure my boyfriend wasn’t checking out other girls or annoying my friends.
He broke our kiss and pulled back. “You look beautiful.” He grazed his thumb across my cheekbone, not even glancing at what I was wearing, just pulling me toward him so we were thigh against hip. “I’m Sam,” he said to the group, “and this is Angie Jenkins.” I hadn’t seen the blonde girl next to him—when Sam was around, all I could focus on was him.
“Angie, hi,” I said and tried to pull away to greet her, but Sam kept me pressed firmly against his side.
After everyone introduced themselves, we made our way to the long dinner table. I’d invited forty-two people. Some family. Some friends. I hadn’t wanted a big party, just a quiet dinner. I sat in the middle. The table split quite easily into family at one end, starting with my dad next to me on my left and my mother the other side of him, and then my friends to my right. I hadn’t seated Sam next to me, but as I sat down and the heat of his hand left my hip, I wanted to quickly switch the name cards.
Harper didn’t even try to hide her delight with Sam and as soon as they sat down, she peppered him with questions.
“So, your husband’s working tonight? What does he do?” I asked Angie.
“He has a small construction company in Jersey.” Her gaze scanned the room, taking in the restaurant and then settled on me. “He’s working all hours at the moment on an office building they can’t touch during the day.”
“Oh, that’s tough, but I’m really pleased you could make it. I’m just sorry it’s for something like this and not somewhere where it’s just us. I can’t wait to get to know you better.” I held my breath, hoping she’d feel the same.
“Don’t be, it was nice of you to invite me. Sam really wanted me to come.” She shifted a little to allow the waiter to fill her water glass.
“So, you live in New Jersey?” I asked.
She laughed. “Yeah, my whole life. Thought it would be the last place I’d want to spend married life but Chas will never leave, so I guess I’m stuck.”
I knew she and Sam had been to high school together, and I wanted to ask her questions about him. Did he talk to her about his parents?
“I heard you grew up in his building?” Angie asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure he refers to me as the Park Avenue princess.”
Angie smiled and said, “I haven’t noticed him say that, but then, as I’m sure you’re finding out, he only says a fraction of what goes on in that big brain of his.”
“That’s for sure. I have to stop myself from asking him what he’s thinking eleven times an hour.” The waiters began serving our food and a murmur went around the table as plates were put in front of people.
“So, you’re spending a ton of time together then?”
Only most nights since I’d come back from Connecticut. “Yeah, though I haven’t known him long.”
“You have to take care of him,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning in to me just a fraction. “I’ve never seen him so taken with a woman. He likes you an awful lot.”
I reached for my water glass and took a sip. I really wanted to put it against my cheek to get rid of my blush. “I like him an awful lot, too.”
Angie smiled and squeezed my hand. “I hope so.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that. It’s just that he’s never liked anyone. And I imagine you’ve had other boyfriends . . .”
“It’s different for me, too. Maybe not as much as it is for Sam, but he’s not like any of my previous boyfriends. He keeps so much inside, and yet he’s the most open and honest man I’ve ever met. I will do everything not to hurt your friend, I promise.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to come across as overprotective . . .”
“I don’t blame you. It’s nice that you look out for each other.”
Angie laughed. “When I started dating Chas, he and Sam came to blows one night when Sam saw him talking to a woman at a bar. Sam didn’t ask any questions, just saw red and punched him. We’re a little protective of each other.”
I knew it was irrational, but I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. I wanted to have known Sam his whole life. There was still so much about him I didn’t know. I couldn’t imagine the cool, calm Sam Shaw punching someone. “Does he have a temper?” I asked, suddenly concerned.
Angie swallowed her water. “No, not at all. I’ve never seen him like that before or since. But there is so little he cares about in this world—I think he’d throw himself in front of a train for the things that matter to him.”
I may not have known Sam long, but Angie was describing the man I knew—loyal and protective. Why the hell was I spending my birthday among all these people when I just wanted to be curled up on Sam’s couch next to him? I ached for him, was lonely without him, even though he was just three feet away.
Angie excused herself from the table, and as she got up, Sam turned to find me staring at him. “You okay?” he asked quietly.
I leaned toward him, resting my hand on the warm leather of Angie’s seat. “I’m sorry I didn’t sit you next to me.”
He tilted his head to one side. “Don’t be sorry. I’m fine talking to Harper.”
“No, I mean I’m sorry for me. I miss you.”
He cocked his head, and narrowed his eyes. “You’re not enjoying your conversation with Angie?”
“Oh yes, of course. She’s so nice and clearly adores you. I just miss you.”
“I’m here, Princess,” he said, curling my hair behind my ear. “With you.”
And he was. I felt him in my heart.
Sam
Grace telling me she missed me when I was two feet away made me want to grab her hand and pull her out of there so the two of us could be alone. But part of me enjoyed seeing her with her friends and family. It was confirmation of who she was—kind and generous. Funny. Sexy. Gorgeous. She wasn’t a different person with them. The fact that she was a little uncomfortable with all the attention made sense, too. I liked being able to observe these things about her from a distance.
I also liked being able to talk to Grace’s friends—they were such a reflection of her. Harper was sitting next to me and was feisty and charming. Her husband, Max, clearly worshipped her.
“So, are you serious about Grace?” Harper asked.
“Excuse my wife,” Max said. “She’s a total pain in the ass. Harper, don’t pressure the poor guy. They’ve only been dating a few weeks.”
I chuckled. “It’s fine. You can ask me anything. If I don’t want to answer, I’ll tell you.”
Harper turned to Max as if to say See? “You said you knew with me from the moment I walked into King & Associates,” she told her husband. “I want to know if it was the same for Sam.”
Max just rolled his eyes and Harper turned her attention back to me. “So, was it the same?” Harper asked.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean, but of course I thought Grace was attractive when I first met her.”
“So you’re not serious about her?” Her eyes narrowed as if she were a cop questioning a suspected felon.
I wasn’t sure what serious meant. I liked her. I didn’t want to stop hanging out, but it wasn’t like I was in love with her, even if Angie thought otherwise. “Like Max said, we’ve only been dating a couple of weeks.”
“But, you’re official? You’re her boyfriend?” Harper asked.
Had I missed something? Were we supposed to have a conversation about our status? I was happy with the way things were. I didn’t need to put a label on it.
When I didn’t answer, Harper asked, “Are you fucking other women?”
“Absolutely not.” Her question took me by surprise and I answered on instinct. But it was true. Grace and I spent almost every night together, and even if we didn’t, I had no desire to fuck anyone else.
“And she’s not fucking anyone el
se,” Harper said.
It didn’t sound like a question but I wouldn’t mind an answer. I hadn’t thought about whether Grace was sleeping with other people—I’d just assumed she wasn’t. I glanced at Grace, who was chatting to the other people around the table. Was there anyone else here that she was sleeping with? “I care about her,” I spluttered out. It would bother me if there was another guy on the scene. I wanted her attention, her body, her analysis of her day.
“Well, I should hope so,” Harper said. “She’s very special. If you hurt her, I’ll hunt you down.”
“There’s something you should know about me, Harper,” I said, leaning toward her. “There aren’t many people in my life I care about, and I like it that way. Grace is an exception.”
“What are you two talking about?” Grace asked, smoothing her hand over my back. Dinner plates were being cleared and people were leaving the table for the restrooms or a smoke. I shifted my chair, and guided Grace so she was sitting on my knee.
“You,” I said.
“Harper, are you giving him a hard time?” she asked.
“No more than I deserve. She cares about you, and that’s only ever a good thing,” I said.
Grace’s hand curled around the back of my neck and I exhaled in a long breath. It should have felt uncomfortable, someone touching me so casually in public, but instead it felt completely normal. Comforting, even. She wouldn’t be doing that if she was fucking someone else. “You’re so sweet.”
“No, I’m not. But I do care about you, and so does Harper.”
Grace looked up at me from under her lashes. “I care about you, too,” she said.
“So, you guys will have to come up to Connecticut,” Max said, sliding his arm around the back of his wife’s chair, and leaning toward us.
“Yes!” Harper said. “If you can put up with a houseful of crazy, that is. We’d love to have you. Next month when the pool house is finished. Then you can have a reprieve from the madness when you need it.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Grace said, glancing at me. “Maybe.”
I’d speak to her later about being official. In the meantime, a weekend away with her best friend sounded good. I dipped my head to catch her eye. “I think that would be great.”
