by Nancy Krulik
Sami wrinkled her nose. “No thanks. I think I’ll stick with the coffee and some toast.”
“Suit yourself,” Rain said, sipping her drink. “So, you got in late. How’d it go with the great Mr. Jamison?”
Sami’s eyes flew open. “Go?” she asked nervously. “With what?”
“With your designs,” Rain said. “Did he like them?”
“Oh, my designs,” Sami gulped.
“What else?” Rain asked suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Sami replied, a tad too quickly. “He liked them. He’s going to show them to Ted.”
Rain poured herself more juice. “Okay. We’ll see. I hope he’s as good as his word.”
“You don’t like Bruce, do you?” Sami asked her.
“It’s not that I don’t like him. He’s very charming,” Rain began, obviously choosing her words carefully. “It’s just that there are a lot of men out there, Sami, and I’d hate for you to fall for the first guy who flashes a little cash in your direction.”
“You sound like Vin,” Sami told her.
“You’ve discussed this with Vin?” Rain sounded surprised.
“Sure. He worries about me too. But you guys don’t have to be so concerned. I’m a good judge of character. I can tell that Bruce really believes in me. Why else would he spend so much time with me, and offer to take my designs to Ted Fromme?”
“That’s just what I was thinking,” Rain mused.
“Oops, look at the time!” Sami hopped out of her chair and put her cup in the sink. “I’m going to be late for work if I don’t get out of here.”
“You going to be around tonight?” Rain called after her. “A bunch of us are going to dinner at Hunan Garden. Wanna come?”
“I think I’ll be with Bruce tonight,” Sami said.
“Oh, where’s he taking you? Some place expensive, no doubt.”
Sami frowned. That was the second time this morning that Rain had made some comment about Bruce’s money. It was like she was prejudiced against people with money. Bruce happened to work very hard for what he had. Sami thought it was nice that Bruce was willing to spend it so freely on her. But there wasn’t time to argue that with Rain, and besides, she really didn’t want there to be any trouble between her and her roommate. So she simply replied, “I don’t know where we’ll go. We don’t have anything planned.”
“Then how do you know he’s free?”
Sami smiled. “I just know it.”
Bruce was already in his cubicle hard at work when Sami arrived. She was surprised. Ordinarily she was the first one in and he was the last.
“Wow! Look who’s up with the sun,” Sami chirped, sneaking into his cubicle, coming up behind him, and giving him a peck on the cheek.
Bruce jumped up, startled. He slammed the top of his laptop shut and turned to Sami. “Don’t do that,” he scolded her.
“There’s no one else here,” Sami promised. She leaned over and hugged his neck.
“I mean sneak up on me,” Bruce continued, wriggling free from her playful grip. “You scared the heck out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” Sami apologized easily. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let me make it up to you.”
Bruce shook his head. “We can’t do this here. Not now. People will be coming in any minute.” He looked into her eyes, making sure she understood the importance of what he was saying. “No one can know about us.”
“Is it against office rules?” Sami asked, suddenly nervous.
Bruce shook his head. “I don’t know. But it wouldn’t look good. Technically, I’m your boss, right? We don’t need one of those Monica-Bill scandals around here.”
Sami thought there was a big difference between a relationship between an office manager and a receptionist and one involving the president of the United States and an intern, but she could see that Bruce wasn’t going to accept that kind of logic. “I guess you’re right,” she agreed, her face falling.
Bruce must’ve noted the sadness in her eyes, because he gave her one of his remarkable smiles. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t meet somewhere after work.”
“That’s true,” Sami agreed. “Actually, Rain and some of her friends are going out to dinner tonight at a local Chinese place. Do you want to go?”
Bruce heaved a heavy sigh. “Gee, Sam, I don’t think so,” he said slowly.
Sami studied his face. “Don’t you like Rain?” she asked him.
“Sure, she’s fine,” Bruce said. “And I like her taste in roommates.”
Sami smiled. “Then what’s the problem?”
“I met a lot of people like Rain when I first came to New York. You know, all into the excitement and rebellion of the East Village,” Bruce explained. “I’ve moved on from that East Village scene. You’ll see. After you’ve been here a while, tattoos, tongue piercings, and pitchers of beer will lose their appeal. Besides, I was thinking you and I could go out alone tonight. How about La Comida?”
Sami knew all about La Comida. It was one of the new hot spots in town, and always crowded with celebrities. “Are you sure we can get in?”
“Do you doubt me?” Bruce asked her in mock horror.
“Never,” Sami assured him. “I trust you completely.”
“That’s my girl,” Bruce said. “Now get out of here. I have work to do. And I want to see if Ted can meet with me today to look at some of those designs you showed me last night.”
Ooo, I wish you hadn’t told me that,” Sami replied. “Now IÙ be nervous all day.”
“You have nothing to be nervous about,” Bruce assured her. “Not as long as I’m in your corner.”
But Sami couldn’t help but be nervous as the day went on. Each time Ted Fromme walked past her desk, she waited anxiously for him to say something to her about her designs. When he didn’t mention them, Sami was left to analyze his moods as he walked through the reception area. Did that smile mean he liked her sketches, or was he just being friendly? Or, why did he seem so distracted as he walked out the door to his lunch meeting? Was he deliberately avoiding her eyes because he didn’t want to tell her he didn’t like her work? The suspense was killing her.
Then, at the very end of the day, just as he was leaving the office for the night, Ted Fromme stopped at Sami’s desk—something he rarely did. Sami’s heart began to beat so quickly, she was certain it would pop out of her chest any second. “Hi, Ted!” she greeted him, her voice cracking ever so slightly.
“You’re here awfully late,” Ted remarked in his slow, Southern drawl.
“Well, I have a few more things to do before I leave,” Sami lied. Actually she was waiting for Bruce, but she knew she had to heed his warning about keeping their relationship under wraps.
“Well, don’t work too hard,” Ted said. “This city’s full of adventure. You should go get yourself some.”
And that was it. He turned and left the office. With absolutely no mention of Sami’s designs. Her heart fell. Did that mean he didn’t like them? Or that Bruce hadn’t gotten a chance to show them to him? For a moment, Sami thought about running over to Bruce’s cubicle and asking him what had happened in his meeting with Ted. But she thought better of it. Bruce was doing her a favor, after all. She didn’t want to bug him about it. Besides, Bruce knew how important this was to her. If he had anything to tell her, he surely would.
Sami sat at her desk working until everyone had gone. Everyone except Bruce, anyway. When seven o’clock rolled around, he was still in his cubicle, hunched over his laptop. Sami picked up her phone and dialed his extension.
“Hello,” he answered in the professional tone he reserved for the office.
“Mr. Jamison, I believe your dinner date is waiting for you in the reception area,” Sami said playfully.
“Really?” Bruce’s voice changed as he teased. “Listen, um, this is sort of a blind date. Can you tell me what she’s like?”
Sami giggled slightly, and then decided to play along. “Oh, she’s incredibly smart
. And positively gorgeous,” she told him. “In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was a model.”
“Oh, heaven forbid,” Bruce said, laughing. “Models aren’t my type at all. Listen, how about if I stand up this mystery woman and take you to dinner instead?”
“Just give me ten minutes to freshen up,” Sami agreed.
“Great. I’ll finish up here and meet you at the elevator.”
La Comida was even more beautiful than Sami had read in the newspapers and magazines. From the moment you stepped inside you felt as though you had taken a trip in time back to old Spain. The scents of exotic spices filled the air. Each table was decorated with a hand-embroidered tablecloth topped with small white floating candles and fresh Spanish roses. Latin music played discreetly from hidden speakers, adding to the ambience without being obtrusive.
The clientele was impressive as well. Ever since La Comida had been crowned the new hot spot, all sorts of young celebrities and pseudo celebrities had been making the scene there. Sami had read that Leonardo DiCaprio had been there every night for a month while he was shooting his last film, and that Liv Tyler had celebrated her birthday in the VIP room.
Those celebs weren’t there tonight, but there was certainly enough glitter and glam to go around. In the corner, Sami recognized the faces of several young models she’d seen in fashion magazines and on TV commercials. Some were exotic, with long dark hair and unique features, while others had blond hair and blue eyes. But they were all long legged, and dressed magnificently in casual chic dresses and simple accessories. They giggled loudly, knowing they were bringing attention to themselves as they happily shared a single flan dessert.
Then Sami noticed a familiar face standing by the bar. “Oh, my goodness!” she squealed as she gripped Bruce’s arm. “Isn’t that Lucy Liu? It could be her, you know. I read somewhere that she was born in New York….” Sami’s eyes suddenly fell on another woman at the bar. She was a tall, beautiful African-American woman with long, dyed blond hair. Her clothes were obviously very expensive, if a little flashy. There was a crowd around her, and by the looks of her flamboyant hand motions, she enjoyed that immensely. She was the most exotic woman Sami’d ever seen.
Or is she? “Oh wow!” Sami exclaimed suddenly. “That’s a man!”
“For God’s sake, Sami, don’t stare,” Bruce hissed in her ear. “And don’t talk so loud.”
Sami blushed. She hadn’t realized that she’d been staring or shouting. She’d just been so shocked by the realization.
“That’s not just any man,” Bruce whispered. “It’s RuPaul, a very famous entertainer.”
“I’ve never heard of her … or should I say him … I mean, what do you call him or her?”
Bruce rolled his eyes. “RuPaul.”
Sami nodded. “Boy, wait until I tell Celia about this.”
“For God’s sake, Sami, stop behaving like a tourist. Keep your cool. Just act like you’re one of them.”
Sami looked at Bruce as though he had three heads. How could she—a girl from Elk Lake, Minnesota—ever pretend to be one of the beautiful New York people? It wasn’t possible.
Bruce went up to the mâitre d’ and gave him his name. The man looked skeptical at first, but then checked his list. “Ah, here you are, Señor Jamison. Right this way.”
They followed the man to a table far in the back, not far from the bathrooms. Still, Sami was thrilled just to be in the restaurant. Bruce, however, was not happy. “Don’t you have anything better?” he demanded.
“I’m sorry, señor, but we’re totally booked for tonight. This is our last table.”
Bruce sighed heavily.
“It’s okay,” Sami insisted. “I’ve got a great view of the restaurant from here.”
“It’ll have to do,” Bruce said finally.
A few moments later, a waiter appeared, and Bruce ordered dinner for the both of them, since Sami seemed confused by the menu. “Just trust me,” Bruce told Sami before he told the waiter what to bring. “I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”
Sami nodded and sipped on her water. She was trying to look nonchalant and sophisticated, just as Bruce had urged her to do. But the truth was, she was nervous and excited, waiting for Bruce to bring up the topic of her designs.
He didn’t. They exchanged small talk throughout the meal, chatting about New York things: how awful the subways were, whether the mayor’s ban on smoking would ruin the club scene, and the high cost of rent. Not once did either of them mention anything having to do with the office. Most of the time it was Bruce holding forth with his opinions. Sami had nothing to compare these situations to. So she just nodded a lot. Like my dad taught me, she realized.
Finally, after a full meal of chicken and rice, Sami couldn’t hold herself back any longer. “Bruce,” she asked. “Did you get a chance to talk to Ted about my designs?”
Bruce nodded and took a long sip of his sangria. Then he leaned back in his chair. “I was hoping not to talk about that until we’d finished dinner,” he said slowly.
Sami knew from his expression that the news wasn’t good. “He didn’t like them very much, did he?”
“It’s not that he didn’t like them, Sami; in fact, he thought some of your ideas were good. But the execution was just a little amateurish.”
Amateurish. The word cut like a knife. “B-b-but you said they were good. You liked them so much,” she blubbered as she struggled not to cry.
Bruce took her hand in his. “Well, you have to admit that I’m a little biased when it comes to anything having to do with you.” He smiled warmly at her. “Besides, Ted said they showed promise. They just needed some fine tuning. Come on, that’s more than most get to hear from someone like Ted.”
Sami shrugged. “I guess.” She thought for a moment. “Look, what if I went to talk to him myself? I could even wear some of the dresses that I modeled on those designs. Maybe if I brought the whole thing to life … He did like the neck on that blouse I made, and—”
“No, don’t do that,” Bruce warned her urgently.
“Why not? It’s worth a try.”
“It’ll just make Ted angry,” Bruce told her. “He’s a busy man. He’s not concerned with your feelings. If you make a big deal out of this, he’ll never look at anything you’ve got ever again. Trust me. This best thing to do is wait a few months and then show him something else.”
Sami blinked, fighting back the tears. She didn’t want to cry. Not here, in this fabulous restaurant. Not after Bruce had been so wonderful about helping her … even if it hadn’t worked out the way they’d hoped.
Bruce put down his wineglass and stared into her eyes. “Look, this isn’t the end of the world. You’ve got what it takes. You just need a little more experience. Maybe you could take a class at FIT. I’ll bet the company would pay for part of it.”
Classes. Back to school … “I’ll think about it.”
Bruce nodded sympathetically. “I guess you don’t want any dessert now.”
“I’ve kind of lost my appetite,” Sami told him.
Bruce called over the waiter and quickly paid the check. Then he escorted Sami outside and reached out his arm for a cab.
“Riverside and Eighty-second,” he told the driver as they climbed into the taxi.
“Where are we going?” Sami asked him.
“I thought we’d go back to my place,” Bruce said. “It’s more private there than at your apartment.”
“Bruce, I don’t know. Maybe I should just go home.”
He stared at her with surprise. “What? You’re only into me if I can help you with Ted?” he teased, but something in his voice sounded … demanding.
Sami was surprised. “No, that’s not it at all. I’m just tired and a little disappointed.”
“Look, we don’t have to do anything. I just thought you could use a little luxury tonight—instead of going back into that walk-up building and crashing in that little bed of yours. I promise I’ll cheer you up,” he declar
ed as he leaned over and gave her a hard kiss on the lips.
But Sami knew nothing could cheer her up. And sex with Bruce was probably the furthest thing from her mind. “I really need to go home,” she told him, choking back the tears.
Ten
Sami didn’t sleep well that night. Her disappointment was overwhelming—as was the fear that Bruce was going to lose interest in her because she’d refused to go home with him the night before. Of course he’d said all the right things, assuring her that he understood and walking her to the door. But Sami thought she heard something change in his voice. It was more than just disappointment. He’d suddenly sounded as though he were speaking to a naive young girl rather than to the woman he called his girlfriend.
Since sleeping was obviously out of the question, Sami got out of bed just before sunrise and decided to take a shower and have a cup of coffee, hoping that would be enough to keep her awake through the day.
Rain awoke just after six and emerged from the bedroom just as Sami was putting another top on her cup of coffee.
“I’ll take one of those if you’re pouring,” Rain murmured, wiping the sleep from her eyes.
Sami nodded and pulled down a second mug. She looked over at Rain. It was amazing how great her roommate could look first thing in the morning, even with her tousled red hair and make-up-free face. She was just one of those natural-born beauties.
Of course Sami had thought she was a natural-born designer. But that was before Ted Fromme had pulled the rug out from under her dreams. She sighed heavily and finished her cup of coffee, then dragged herself into the bedroom. She was grateful that Rain was too tired to start up a conversation over coffee. Sami didn’t feel much like talking.
Quickly she went into her small closet and pulled out a blue-green linen dress that brought out her eyes. She studied her face in the mirror as she put on a little mascara and some lip gloss. Then she headed out the door and prepared to make her way through the crowds on the subway plat-form to board the train that would take her to work. As a receptionist.
Sami let out a blasé sigh. Nothing about New York seemed very exciting anymore.
