by Nicole Hite
"He's in room 616, at the end of the hallway."
"Thank you, sweetheart."
"Sure thing."
"Mr. Flannery? Why do I get the feeling this isn't a business call? What happened to, ‘Work, then play?’"
"I already have a full time gig, furthermore, who says I can't break the rules every once in a while," she grinned as they approached the room.
Just as they were about to reach their destination, Sam caught sight of the raciest coed she had ever seen. This girl had to be six feet tall with legs longer than the typical women. She wore skinny jeans, heels, and a much too tight tank nearly exposing her goodies to Declan.
Leaning in toward Declan's ear, she slipped him a sheet of paper. She had a devilish grin smeared across her face as she let her fingers linger a little too long in his palm. Declan searched the area with a thwarted look on his face, hoping no one saw their contact.
I guess those jokes about professors sleeping with their students wasn't too far from the truth. How had she been so stupid? She should have known better than to try and make something of her chance encounter with this Irish stranger.
Before releasing her grip on Declan's fingertips, she leaned in to whisper in his ear, followed by a kiss on the cheek.
Although they had swapped numbers, and pictures, for that matter, she still hadn't heard a word from Declan. Perhaps this explains his desire not to reach out. Sam was no dog, but compared to this girl, she was struggling. She couldn't compete with those insane legs.
"Sweet, Jesus that's her," Quinn spoke up.
"Who?" Sam grilled, trying frantically to pull herself away from ogling the two.
"Demi Pepper. You know, the whole reason we are here," Quinn stated very matter of fact.
"You mean that vixen right there?" Sam tried to discreetly point out the hellion in heels.
"Is that the mysterious Mr. Flannery she was chatting with?" Quinn requested as Demi and Declan parted ways.
"Regrettably, yes," Sam acknowledged as they made their way to the Fashion department. There wasn't a bone in her body that wanted to talk to this girl. She had single handedly ruined Sam's perfect day.
Well fuck me. Just perfect!
"Come on. We have a task at hand," Sam encouraged as she and Quinn made their way to the Design Laboratory.
Finally making their way to the studio, Sam was zeroed in on Demi and her team of minions. There was an air of confidence about her that Sam found absolutely threatening.
"Hi, I'm Sam," she introduced herself as Demi looked at her with a curious look on her face.
"Hi, Sam," she replied as if everyone on the planet should already know who she was.
"I'm Quinn, and we are here to interview for Empire Magazine."
"Yes, we are doing a column next month on your rise to fame. Would you have a couple minutes to speak with us?
"Sure, I guess a minute wouldn't hurt," she responded with such condemnation it annoyed Sam.
She already despised the girl with her slutty moves toward Declan, how was she going to do a piece praising the trollop?
Demi escorted them to a lounge area carved out of a section of the studio. Sitting on the flush, purple couch, Sam crossed her legs, and salvaged her notepad from her bag.
* * *
Assembling across the couch in a giant armchair, Demi sat on the edge, ready to make her escape. She had no intention of sitting there for long, which was pretty insulting in Sam's book. Empire was one of the biggest fashion magazines out there, and she could barely spare a few minutes to speak with them.
"So, what do you want to know?" Demi asked as she rested her elbows on her knees leaning forward.
"Well, for starters what made you want to become a designer?" Sam looked at Demi, analyzing every detail of her face, her body, and even her arrogance. Just above her perfectly manicured right brow was a scar, shattering her perfect existence. Her lips weren't as plush as Sam's were, but rosier nonetheless. She had strands of purple scattered in her curls, yet they did nothing for her pale skin.
"I like to think it's engrained in me. Ever since I was a child, I was very meticulous when it came to my doll's style. My mother used to question if something was wrong with me considering I didn't act like other children my age."
Demi's words went straight in and out of Sam's ears. What she really wanted to know was what the hell she was doing with Declan.
"You seem really committed to your dreams, I suppose it makes it hard to have a relationship with anyone." Sam didn't know why she detoured the conversation, she just...did.
"I do alright. I'm sort of seeing someone right now, but we need to keep it on the down low," Demi blushed suddenly more animated then when they arrived.
"Are they also in the fashion industry?" Quinn asked knowing right well what her answer would be. Quinn really was a great wing woman in this situation.
"Oh, hell no. Far from it," she smirked knowing she had a secret that she was not going to blab to a nationally recognized magazine editor.
Sam was cautious to ask Demi out right if she was seeing Declan. She didn't want to seem like a stalker, especially since she had zero claims to him. First her, then that Ashley chick, now Demi; this guy sounded like a total player, a hot player though.
Instead of pursuing her inquisition, she decided to let it go, and move forward. After an hour of incessant, narcissistic behavior on Demi's part, Sam was ready to get the hell out of there. She was so thankful that Quinn was there to record the conversation because all Sam could picture was Declan and Demi curled up in each other’s arms.
"Thank for your time, Ms. Pepper," Sam quantified as she offered her hand.
"Any time. If you want to send someone over for a photo shoot, just let me know."
Her smug attitude only crippled Sam where she stood. How could she compete with Demi? She had it all - looks, charm, confidence. Sam was confident, but not anything like this. Lord knows what this Ashley girl looked like.
"I'll have one of my guys contact you to set something up."
No longer wanting to hear her voice, Sam and Quinn made their way out of the studio. The two walked silently for a while before they were bombarded by dozens of college kids escaping the lecture halls. Class was discharged, and the two were walking into oncoming traffic.
Without any warning or any way to dodge him, Sam was suddenly face to face with Declan. For a moment, the two just stared at one another contemplating their next move.
"Sam, what are you doing here?" Declan finally spoke.
"Empire is doing a piece on Demi Pepper...and, I... I was in charge of her interview."
"I'm Quinn, Sam's assistant," she interrupted as she extended her hand to Declan.
Taking it graciously, "Nice to meet you, Quinn. I wasn't aware that Sam was so important to warrant an assistant."
"Intern is more like it. Assistant insinuates she gets paid" Sam chuckled for the first time since coming to the blessed school. As much as she wanted to scold Declan, deep down, she couldn't deny he was an excellent lay. They weren't an item, so their obligations to one another shouldn't matter.
"Hey, I resent that, although she isn't wrong," Quinn defended herself with a smile.
"Names Declan. It's nice to meet ya, darlin'"
"Nice to meet you as well," Quinn countered as her cheeks turned pink with awkwardness.
"Listen, Sam, I wanted to call you but..." Declan began.
"...It's totally okay. I mean, I get it."
"No, it's not okay. A gentleman wouldn't have departed the way I did. Especially after the night we had," he tried to whisper as he leaned in to her ear.
"Shit happens," she blurted out.
"Let me make it up to you," he pleaded.
Sam tried frenziedly to resist his charm, but his dashing looks, magical accent, and perfect lips lured her in like a siren calling her name - enchanting her to give in to his every wish and desire.
"How do you do that?" she probed as she offered him a sweet s
mile.
"Do what?" he tittered.
"You know, charm your way into convincing me to give in to you, when, really, I should be mad you left the way you did."
"I guess it's the luck of the Irish, A stór. Now, what do you say? Will you go out with me Friday?"
Wavering on for a second, "Friday sounds great, Declan."
"I'll text you tomorrow if that's okay?" he stated as he flashed his emeralds her way. She was a sucker for this kid, regardless if there was something there between him and Demi. The question remained, was she setting herself up for heartbreak?
6
“Everyone does B&E’s on first dates, no?”
Early Friday morning, Sam received a text from Declan.
* * *
DECLAN: Good morning, A stór.
SAM: Well, hello to you too. What the hell does A stór mean?
DECLAN: If I told ya, I might have to kill ya.
SAM: I'll stay in the dark, if you're okay with that.
DECLAN: I think that's a wise decision on your part.
SAM: For all I know, you're calling me a whore or something.
DECLAN: Hardly.
SAM: Thank goodness. I know you didn't just text me to insult me, did you?
DECLAN: How do you feel about breaking and entering?
SAM: I'm not sure I know where you're going with this.
* * *
Sam laughed hysterically as she thought of the implications of his words. Did he really just type that?
* * *
DECLAN: I assume it's not breaking and entering if I still own the apartment.
SAM: Ahhh, see, you should have led with that. I'm not sure our relationship is “jail stripe” approved yet.
DECLAN: Megan's going out of town this weekend and I need to get my stuff out of the apartment. It shouldn't take long, and then we can go grab something to eat. Sound good?
SAM: If you insist. I would love to do a B&E with you, binding I receive food as payment.
* * *
Who in their right mind can say they broke the law on a date before?
* * *
DECLAN: See, you're already my partner in crime.
SAM: If you get me arrested, I'm going to find some way to get you back. Perhaps a good shank?
DECLAN: Aye, remind me never to cross ya. Those are serious words.
SAM: I have to warn you about something.
DECLAN: You’re not a fella are ya? Was I that drunk the other night?
SAM: HA, NO!
DECLAN: Thank heavens. I was beginning to feel violated for a moment.
SAM: No, no, no. I don't have a car. You'll have to pick me up if that's acceptable?
DECLAN: That's it? Haha of course I can pick you up. How does six o’clock sound? That will give us plenty of time to move everything out and still grab dinner.
SAM: Sounds perfect. I'll text you later with my address?
DECLAN: You got it. See you later.
SAM: See you later.
* * *
Sam sat at her desk, swooning over her Irish gentleman. She hadn't planned to see Declan again, but with the strange twist of events with Demi, things were taking a positive turn for the better.
"You look awfully happy," Ariel tapped on her door, taking a seat in front of her desk.
"Yeah, I guess I am," she smiled like a teenager.
"Is it that hot Irish guy from the bar?"
"Uh huh. He asked me out again."
"That's great, Sam! Sounds like you two really hit it off the other night...in more ways than one," she snickered as she picked up a trinket from Sam's desk. Shifting it from hand to hand, Sam grabbed it to put it back on the desk.
"That's not a toy, and yes...we did hit it off, hard," a smiled crossed her face to give away her devious actions.
"Trust me, I know," Ariel laughed hysterically.
"Were we really that loud?" Sam questioned.
"You certainly weren't quiet," she giggled.
"I'm so sorry. Cory never fucked me like that. It was..." she began.
"…fucking mind-blowing? Girl, don't even get me started. I get it," she grinned.
"YES! It was unbelievable. I guess that's why I'm looking forward to our date. Not to sound assumptive, but I was hoping to reenact that encounter."
"What are you doing on your date?"
"You're going to laugh," Sam snorted.
"Oh, Lord. What?"
"Breaking into his apartment, and moving his shit out. A regular B&E. You know. The usual," she laughed.
"Just don't call me when you get arrested," Ariel joked as she stood to leave."Trust me, I have zero intentions of getting arrested," she responded hesitantly.
"You say that now..."Ariel tossed out as she cleared the doorway.
One thing Sam did know, it was never a dull moment with Declan. She loved that, too.
Six o'clock came and went as Sam languished around her apartment anticipating Declan’s imminent arrival. Had she given him the wrong address? She looked at her phone a million times to check the address she sent. Sure enough, every time she looked, it was the same address – the correct address. What the hell?
Suddenly her phone rang. Somersaulting from the couch, Sam stood to answer the phone as normal as she could gather. She waited three rings hoping it didn't sound as if she wasn't sitting and staring at her phone.
"Hello?" she tried to sound casual.
"I'm so sorry, Sam," he appealed.
"It's cool," she tried to play it off as if nothing was wrong, even though her heart hurt a little.
"No, it's not. I got tied up with work. Last minute faculty meeting I couldn't get out of. I tried to slip away to text or call, but I could never find an appropriate time."
"Don't worry about it, Declan. Stuff happens."
"Is it too late to come get you?"
"Ugh, I guess not," she hated to say no considering she really wanted to see him, but his excuse seemed a little flimsy.
"I promise to make it up to you," he flirted.
"You have a lot of making up to do then," she giggled.
"I'll be there in five." Sam could hear him rushing around, trying to hurry.
"See you soon," she grinned.
* * *
Exactly four minutes and forty-five seconds later, Declan knocked on her door. With a ski mask in one hand, and a plastic water gun in the other, he greeted her with a smile. How could she hate that face?
"Where the hell did you get those?" she laughed.
"One of the studios was setting up for a shoot. Guess they'll just have to deal without these," he grinned. "Ready to get our B&E on?"
"That sounded so American," she chortled.
"I've been trying. Late night television, especially Real Housewives, helps."
"As a collegiate professor, I would have hoped you had better taste."
"Aye, I agree. Fortunately for you, I don't," he smirked.
"So are we doing this?"
"I've got the get-a-way car parked out front," he snickered.
"Lead the way, partner."
* * *
Arriving at the Tory Oakes Apartment complex, Sam suddenly felt nervous. What if Megan showed up? How was she going to explain herself? Then again, why should she? She owed her nothing, but possibly a smack to the face for letting this man go.
"So where is Megan anyway?" Sam probed.
"She went out of town with her new...whatever he is," he said with a sour expression.
"Ahh, do you know where everything you need is at?" Sam asked as they approached the door.
Placing the key into the hole, "Aye, for the most part. I'm sure she tossed my shit in a garbage bag anyway. She's horrible like that, yet it helps me out."
"If you say so, cowboy," she stated as they crept into the apartment. Even though they knew no one was there, there was still an odd feeling walking into someone else's apartment without their knowledge. Yes, Declan had once lived there, but not anymore.
"If she
hasn't cleaned out my dressers, toss everything in those top two drawers in here," he tossed her a bag.
"Sounds good."
Approaching the drawers, she wasn't sure what to expect; underwear, socks, smut mags. Anything was possible at this point. Pulling the drawer open, it was simple t-shirts – nothing more, nothing less. The drawer smelled like Declan. The combination of his laundry detergent and his cologne crowded her nose, making her head spin.
Tossing each shirt into the bag, one at a time, she was at the last shirt when something fell out of the fabric. Looking around, she could hear Declan in the kitchen banging around. Picking up what appeared to be a matchbook, she flipped it to the back to see, Mars Club 10pm, 10k. The message was cryptic and bizarre. What the hell did it mean?
Hearing Declan coming, she tucked the book in her back pocket just in time. Declan walked in with several bags in tow.
"Almost ready?" he quizzed giving her a bold look.
"I just have one more drawer and we are good," she winked at him.
"We may need to hurry. I heard noises in the hall. Could be my old neighbor, and we really don't want to deal with that old bat," he persuaded Sam.
"Let's do this," she encouraged, as they slipped the last shirt into her bag.
As Declan squeaked open the front door, he leaned back to shush her.
"She's right there," he whispered while pointing at a slightly cracked door.
Slipping out into the hallway, the two bolted the door as quietly as possible.
"Megan? Is that you, sugar? I wasn't expecting to see you back until Sunday," Declan's elder neighbor pushed open her door to see the two making their escape.
"RUN!" Declan yelled to Sam.
Like kids, the two took off, laughing the entire way to the car.
"Did you see that old bird's face?" Sam laughed uncontrollably.
"Aye, she was fixing to kick our arses!" they collided into his SUV.
"That was quite conceivably the best date I've ever been on," Sam giggled as the two twisted to match stares.
