by Olivia Jake
Mark smiled, rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“What? Does that mean we’re not good?” Sam worried.
He chuckled again, “No, Sam, it means that on top of everything else, you’re a good person too.”
“Annnd, that’s a bad thing?”
“You make it really hard for me to convince myself that I wasn’t a complete idiot for not trying to go after you earlier, before Laurent Román.” He said with a lopsided smile.
“I was wondering how long it would be before you brought his name up.”
Mark shrugged, “so, things are still, um, good with you two? I just saw a picture of the two of you last week at the premiere of one of the new series on his network, so I assume you’re still together?”
Sam sighed and thought how weird it was talking about her relationship. It was weird talking about it period, but even odder with Mark, “Yeah, everything’s good. It’s great, actually. Though it’s weird that there are pictures of me in the trades. I haven’t gotten used to that yet.”
“Yeah, I know you’ve never been one for the spotlight.” they both chuckled, then he added, “I’m happy for you, Sam, honest I am. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thank you, Mark. That means a lot. Ok, so let’s see, I think we’ve covered the relationship talk, and we can’t really talk about TimeCap, so, how ‘bout those Dodgers?” They both relaxed a bit and for the rest of the evening steered clear of the personal and professional minefields.
At the end of the dinner, they wished each other good luck with the pitch, Sam adding, “You know I’ll be pissed if we don’t win it, but the only thing that would soften the blow would be if you were to get it.”
“Seriously, Sam, could you just try to not be such a good person? Disappoint me a bit, please. I’ll feel much better about myself” he kidded, then added sincerely, “same goes for me. If we don’t get it, I hope you do.” They kissed and hugged each other goodbye, Sam feeling relieved that she and Mark were back on solid footing with each other.
CHAPTER 9
The pitch process for TimeCap was the antithesis of what they had experienced pitching Laurent and The Network. Whereas he was decisive and his choice immediate, Sam and her group had meeting after meeting and second and third round pitches over months while TimeCap took their time to make their choice. And in each presentation, there were layers upon layers of people, everyone from the President and head of marketing down to managers, with every level in between. The minute one person would raise a question, even if it had no merit, no relevance, any difference of opinion or anecdotal experience could throw an entire idea out the window.
Sam was reminded how refreshing and rare the experience working with Laurent was. Not just because of their relationship, that truly had nothing to do with it. It was the fact that he was decisive and knew his product. These meetings with the TimeCap crew unfortunately were the norm for the industry. People who had no business offering up their opinion could change weeks’ worth of work. Like many entertainment companies, it seemed they made their decisions by two things: fear and deadlines. The fear pushed the process and watered down the work so that the campaign would be all things to all people and eventually lack any real voice. And the deadlines would make them finally choose a campaign, not because it was the best work, but because they were finally out of time and they’d choose the last thing they saw, which by that time was typically no where near as good as the first round ideas.
But Sam and her team continued to deliver. While, on the one hand she knew that these meetings were a precursor for things to come, should they win the account. On the other hand, it would still be a big coup to get. Not to mention that after going round after round, if they didn’t get it, it would really feel like all that work was for naught. The funny thing was, when pitches got to this stage, no one was ever happy with the actual work. It was never something to really be proud of, it was just something to get done.
Sam and Laurent had agreed to try to keep their working relationship at the office as much as possible. They still maintained weekly meetings at his office every Friday morning, to review upcoming show launches, new media plans, and various creative. When Sam arrived for her weekly meeting she started with, “Do you have any idea how much I appreciate working with you, Monsieur Román?”
“Monsieur Román, eh?”
“Oui, I’m trying to separate you, Laurent, from you, my client.” Laurent raised an eyebrow in interest. “You’re decisive, smart, clear. Ugh, these people at TimeCap can’t make a decision to save their lives.”
“Not everyone can be as wonderful as I am, Samantha.” He said dryly.
“I imagine few people see the wonderfulness, it being eclipsed by that enormous ego.” She kidded as she walked over and gave him a quick kiss hello on his lips.
As she turned around to walk to her seat, he took that chance to slap her ass, and added, “You’re the one who started this meeting telling me what a great client I am, Samantha.”
“True.” She agreed as she slumped into her chair. She really was exhausted and tired of the TimeCap bullshit. But then she straightened and said, “I’m sorry, Laurent. I’m also the one who wanted us to try to keep our professional life separate from our personal life and it’s very unprofessional of me to complain to one client about another. Let’s pretend I never mentioned it.”
“Ok, Samantha.” He said tightly.
She smiled and then added, “But you can keep the part about you being a wonderful client.”
“What about my enormous ego? Does that stay too?” he smirked.
Sam raised her eyebrows and shrugged, then playfully said, “Enormous isn’t always a negative adjective when used describing parts of you, Laurent.” To which he nodded his head once and smiled. “Ok, Mr. Wonderful, let’s get started.”
When they were wrapping up, Laurent got up from his side of the desk and grabbed Sam, pulling her into a deep kiss, which she returned. She never tired of his lips, his touch. But she had to get back to the office, she had work to do, so she pulled away first, which he clearly did not like. His hold on her arms got tighter, his look intense, on the verge of angry. It didn’t matter that they had been together as long as they had, he could still intimidate her. This was one of those times.
“I’m sorry, Laurent, I have to go. I have a ton of work to do.” Sam hated that her voice sounded like she was pleading with him. She shouldn’t need his approval to let her go.
“You don’t think I have work to do, too?” He said coldly. Sam knew this was not good. She started to open her mouth but he continued, “You know I don’t like you working on other accounts, Samantha. But since we are past the launch, I accept that you are pitching on TimeCap.” He took a breath, Sam knew that he still wasn’t finished, so she held her tongue, “I do not like to be taken for granted, Samantha. You’re the one who’s always asked for separation between work and personal, so you can’t have it both ways. You start this meeting off telling me how wonderful I am, talking to me like your boyfriend, and then when I act like your boyfriend, you pull away.” He paused.
She realized he didn’t like being turned down. Was this just the male ego? “In the future, do not discuss other work when you’re here.” He finally released her arms and then said, “You can go now.” At which he turned his back and walked back to his desk, immediately picking up his phone and barked orders at whoever was unfortunate enough to be on the other end of the call. Sam couldn’t hear what he was saying because her heart was beating so loudly in her ears as she collected her things and walked out.
Laurent was upset for the rest of the day. He had already made far more concessions with Samantha than he ever had with anyone in his life, business or personal. Of course, he knew why. He had never felt about anyone else the way he felt about her. Still, it didn’t sit well with him, taking him for granted as he saw it. Changing the rules as she went. It was disrespectful to him as a man and as a client. And he wasn’t used to coming in sec
ond to anyone. Ever. Not in business. Not personally.
Sam and Laurent didn’t argue often, but when they did, Sam immediately thought, that’s it. It’s over. Perhaps it was because of her lack of relationship experience. She knew it was irrational. Maybe it was the only way she could feel in control. But even though that was her initial reaction, she knew deep down that she wouldn’t just end it. Thankfully, she did have plenty of work to do, so once she got in the car, she called the office and started going over things, and by the time she got to there, she was firmly entrenched in work which kept her busy for the rest of the day and her mind focused on work rather than on Laurent. But being that it was Friday, which they usually spent together at his house, Sam wasn’t quite sure what to do. She knew what she wanted to do — go home, have a glass of wine and go to sleep. But she also knew that blowing off Laurent Román was not a good idea. Especially after how personally offended he was after he felt rebuked in his office. She didn’t know if checking with him was weak or just being an adult. But she had to do something, so she went the easiest route possible: IM
SD: Hi. Should I still come over tonight?
LR: Why wouldn’t you?
SD: Because of this morning’s meeting.
LR: That’s work, Samantha.
Sam rolled her eyes. She couldn’t argue that point with him. He was right, but did he have to be such a patronizing ass?
SD: Ok, I’ll see you later.
LR: Good.
Once again, Sam felt like she was being weak which was a feeling she hated and only felt with Laurent. She didn’t want to see him, but knew that if she suggested they call tonight off, it would turn into a bigger deal. So, like with so many other things with Laurent, she looked at this as a learning experience and if it didn’t go well, she could always leave then.
Sam let herself in, like she was used to doing, and found Laurent in the living room with a glass of scotch, which was not his normal drink for a Friday night. Typically, they’d share a bottle of red wine together as they relaxed from the week. Sam thought that she should have done what she wanted to do and stayed home. But there was no turning back now.
“Samantha.” He said in a low growl. From the sounds of it, this was not his first drink. And by the looks of it, the way he sat in an overstuffed chair, there was something about his body language that was antagonistic.
“Laurent.” Was all she could think to say. She was acutely aware of him and his movements, and it didn’t feel good or right.
“Can I get you a drink?” There was something about the way he said this, the way he was acting that wasn’t solicitous. It was laced with something. Anger?
“Looks like you’ve already had a couple.” She was tired of worrying. Whatever was going to happen she’d just as soon get it over with.
“Astute as ever, Cheri.” He almost smiled, but then went serious again, “But you didn’t answer me.”
“Sure, I’ll have what you’re having.” She said with bravado. Fuck it, she thought. He wanted a fight, Sam was going to fight like the big boys. Even though she hated scotch, it was easier than taking time to go through the motions of opening a bottle of wine that would probably barely be touched.
He got up to pour her a glass. When he brought it over, they clinked glasses, looking each other in the eye as they did. Sam took a big sip, really, more like a gulp. And her hopes of acting like a man were dashed immediately. She tried to hold in the cough, but it burned like hell, so she coughed, and coughed like a teenager taking her first sip of alcohol. When she finally stopped, she saw Laurent smiling and quietly chuckling at her. “Bravo, Cheri. You really showed me.” Sam was already defeated if he knew that was her intention with having the drink in the first place.
While she didn’t like the scotch, it had the desired effect of immediate liquid courage, “Whatever you want to say, Laurent, please just say it. Or stand there and laugh at me, or scowl at me. You’re the one who suggested we should still get together tonight, so I’m here. But if you want to fight, then,” and before she could finish he interrupted.
“Drink your drink, Samantha.” Was all he said as he finished his. He stood up and poured himself another and brought the bottle over to Sam. Not one to back down from a challenge, she threw back the rest of her drink, this time keeping it down, and held out her glass. He raised his eyebrow slightly like he was mildly impressed and then refilled her glass. Sam was already feeling the effects of the first drink, so she sat down. She was at once relaxed from the alcohol, and angry. She continued to sip at her second drink as he walked over to the bar, replaced the bottle and then walked over to the stereo to turn on some music. Which helped, since they weren’t talking. Sam watched him as he glided around the room, and even as angry as she was, she couldn’t help but still be attracted to him. She wanted to hit him, but she also wanted to tear his clothes off and fuck him.
As he continued to do this and that, close curtains, start a fire, stoke the fire, Sam sipped at her drink and stewed and got more agitated and horny. She couldn’t understand her conflicting emotions. When she was finished, she set her glass down. He looked over and asked, “Would you like another, Samantha?” This time, the S of Samantha wasn’t as crisp as normal.
“No, thank you, Laurent.” She said petulantly, or as petulantly as she could after two scotches on a basically empty stomach. The last time she had eaten was a salad at lunch, and that was no match for the liquor.
“Good.” Was all he said as he held out his hand. She instinctively got up and took it and he grabbed her, roughly and growled, “You want to fight, Samantha? You want to go head to head with me and show me how tough you are? You think having a scotch is going to prove something? If you want to fight, then ok, let’s fight.” His hands were on her biceps and they were squeezing her arms tighter than he’d ever squeezed. She squirmed to get away but then he leaned down to kiss her. And again, she was so used to opening up, to giving in to him, she immediately returned his kiss, but it was more than a kiss, it was like his mouth was mauling hers. She could taste the scotch on him mingle with hers. The stubble that had grown from the morning was rough on her face, rougher than usual because he was smashing his mouth onto hers. But she was kissing him back or mauling him back. She tried to free her arms but he wouldn’t let them go so she grabbed the back of his waist and dug her nails in, hard, which seemed to surprise him. He let out a throaty laugh, and through panting breaths asked “Really, Samantha? You’re going to fight like a girl?” to which she reached up and grabbed his hair. He twisted his head to break free of her grasp and swiftly swept one of his feet under her legs to throw her off balance, and pushed her down on the couch.
Immediately, he was on top of her, his mouth again assaulting hers and she didn’t know what she was doing but she was grabbing his ass as he ground himself into her. He pinned her legs with his, and even as she tried to free them, she was unbuckling and unzipping his pants. She was fighting him and wanting him to fuck her. She was pushing against him with all her might, but she wanted him to pound his cock inside of her. She finally got his pants and briefs off and yanked them down his legs as much as she could given that she still had very little mobility. He somehow had unzipped her pants and tugged them off her so quickly that he was back on top of her before she could do much. How could she want to knee him in the balls and have him fuck her at the same time? It didn’t much matter because he shoved his way in and she gasped.
They both took a moment to register how good that felt, but they weren’t finished ‘fighting’. He started pumping her and she met him thrust for furious thrust, but it was like she was trying to buck him off, even though that was the exact opposite of what she wanted. She was clawing at his back, and even though her legs were wrapped around his waist she was squeezing him and fighting until she felt her orgasm rising. She didn’t want to come, she was so fucking pissed off that coming felt like she was giving up the fight, but her body responded to his onslaught and when she did come she gritt
ed her teeth as she screamed, bringing Laurent to the brink who yelled too. He collapsed on top of her and they lay there for a few minutes, panting together until finally he got off of her and sat down on the end of the couch.
With weak legs and her heart still pounding, Sam got up. Immediately Laurent asked in a low, throaty, but no longer angry voice, “Where are you going?”
Sam turned around to face him, she was naked from the waist down and holding her pants and underwear in her hand, “I’m going to the bathroom to clean up and then I’m going home.” She was exhausted and upset and she just wanted to go home and go to sleep.
“Don’t leave, Samantha. Stay the night with me.” Just as with what had happened on the couch, Sam felt two divergent emotions simultaneously. She felt like she should go home, yet wanted to lie in his arms. He said the words she wanted to hear. She was done fighting and she was just so mentally and physically tired. She simply replied, “Ok.” To which he smiled, got up, took her hand, and led her upstairs to the bedroom.
Despite Sam knowing it was a fucked up situation, once she and Laurent got into bed, and once his arms were wrapped around her, she fell quickly to sleep. She woke in the middle of the night with her heart pounding and her mouth dry, thanks to the damn scotch. She got up and went to the bathroom and when she came back, Laurent was awake with a small smile on his face. She knew she should still be mad at him but whatever she felt for him was stronger and she smiled back as she got under the covers and cuddled up next to him. He stroked her hair and she rubbed his chest. He planted a kiss on the top of her head and she returned it by kissing his chest.
“We are probably going to need to learn how to discuss things better.” He whispered. She chuckled and pushed herself up so she could see him,
“Ya think?” she replied and he smiled. She lowered herself back to his chest and they continued stroking each other until they both fell asleep again.