by Marti Shane
“I know.” She held up a hand. “Only you.”
“You know Otis Smithfield?” he asked, skipping over Mitch.
“Gram sold him her business.” She shrugged, like the baseball legend was the guy next door. To her, he was. “He’s been a silent partner for years.” His eyes narrowed calculating two plus two. “He had a soft spot for her.”
“Go Sloane.” Jake grinned approval. “I’d date Otis Smithfield.”
“Only me.” She held up a finger.
“What’s with Jimmy?” he asked. “His parents around?”
“Shortly. He checks in with Charlie after school and hangs out in the lobby until one of them gets home. He’s supposed to be doing homework.” Her mood dampened. She was going to miss the little community her building provided, even though she didn’t consider them friends. They were Gram’s friends.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow’s a long day.” The lake effect was wearing off, her problems towering over her in grand architecture. Jimmy burst through the front door, a paper flapping in each hand.
“Thank you for this.” She squeezed his hand as the eight-year old rushed towards them.
“Charlie said I can’t go upstairs. It’s against the rules.” His brows dipped down as he shoved the papers at Jake. “He printed these though, and he used color.” Jake took the papers, smoothing them across his thigh. Sam turned, pulling her ponytail aside so he could use her back to write. Jake and Jimmy went into great detail over what to write and where.
“Your friend gave me five dollars,” Jimmy announced. “The pretty one.”
“Mick?” She laughed, Jake telling her to be still as he scribbled across her back.
“I helped her carry boxes. They weren’t heavy. She movin’ in with you?”
“No, she lives with the movie stars in California.” The too-clever eight-year old scratched his head.
“Did you know Mitch Owens lives in Mass-a-chew-test?” He worked out the syllables one by one. “That’s where you lived.”
“All done.” Jake handed over the papers. “Is Sam’s pretty friend still here?” Jimmy grinned and nodded. She knew Jake was taking inventory, not wanting her to be alone since Mitch dropped by.
“What do you say?” She prompted Jimmy who was inspecting Jake’s penmanship. His body lunged, arms wrapping Jake’s thighs in a bear hug.
“Awesome,” he shouted, Jake gripping the Jeep’s roll-bar for balance. A smile surfaced, a brief reprieve from whatever he harbored towards Mitch. His hand rustled Jimmy’s dark hair before he ran inside, papers flapping in the wind. Charlie waved from the door, Jimmy chewing his ear off as they went inside.
“I should walk you up,” Jake said, pulling her bag from the backseat.
“Why?” She took the bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “He’s not here. He’s never been here before.” She confessed. “Look, I don’t know why he was here or what he wants, but I’m a big girl.”
“Sam-”
“Stop.” She held up a hand. “Go do what you need to do.” He lifted his hat from his head, fingers combing his long hair. She’d seen him do it twenty times on T.V., rethinking a play or strategizing when the next player’s up to bat.
“Sorry.” He settled the cap back in place, nodding to the couple passing by arm in arm. Sam watched as they glanced back, a double-take at her man.
“You better beat it,” she suggested, the man digging in his pocket for his phone.
“I’ll see ya in a few.” He kissed her cheek, patting her ass when she tuned to walk away. She liked it. She liked all of it. He was jealous of Mitch. Understandable, as long as he trusted her, which he just proved he did. She eyed his reflection in her building door, the couple circling back and asking for a selfie. She left him to it, curious if it ever bothered him.
Checking in with Charlie, Sam collected a stack of cards. He’d forwarded any flowers to the funeral home. There were a few messages; she was sure at least one would be from Mitch. She needed to call him so he’d stop calling her. Dammit. Her phone was in Jake’s Jeep.
“Sam.” Charlie shot her a warning under his breath. His tone ran a chill down her spine. Heels echoed the marble floor behind her, the quiet tap of a pointed heel followed with the clap of the weight elegantly balanced on the ball of the foot. The familiar cadence came closer, and she straightened her spine before turning to face Satan in Saint Laurent.
She looked through the designer shades of Alexis Kramer, the women matching her height on her five-inch heels. Charlie uncradled the house phone behind her, but she stopped him with the lift of a finger. Alexis focused on Charlie, the receiver quietly being place back on the cradle. Her acrylics smoothed her long dark ponytail before removing her oversized shades. Her eyes held the same shape, but were brown sprinkled with shades of green.
“Can we go somewhere…private?” she asked, heavily-lined eyes darting around the expansive lobby. Sam didn’t respond, just stood expectantly keeping the woman’s worried gaze. She was only a few years older, and the resemblance was more than she realized up close. “Fine.” Alexis resigned. “I came to apologize.” The words were softer and far from sincere.
Alexis was used to the social-frenzied crowd she surrounded herself with, over eager to be heard. The cold patience Sam offered as she waited for the bitch to say something of worth was irritating. Her perfectly plucked brows pulled in artfully, not wrinkling her forehead. She stepped in closer, the scent from her personal fragrance line the only thing intimidating.
“Your brother might have connections, but you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
“Is this your apology?” Sam asked dryly, her lips the only thing moving as she stared down her flesh and blood.
“He got the police involved” she snarked in a high-pitched whisper. “We deal with these matters quietly.”
Sam stepped forward, Alexis immediately stepping back. “You made an uninformed and immature decision that has consequences. Go home and Google how to apologize and then put it in the mail. I’ll leave Charlie my forwarding address.” She turned on her heel, flip flops echoing through the lobby ‘til she hit the stairs. She had no intension of taking Kramer cash and wanted it settled as quietly as Alexis did. She didn’t want to be the Kramer add-on and she definitely didn’t want the hush money. Alexis could sweat for the weekend to pay for her crimes.
“Sam, wait!” Alexis demanded as Sam kept climbing.
“Charlie, see Ms. Kramer out,” she commanded without looking back.
Chapter Ten
The resident doors were littered with pink ribbons and fresh lilies, Sam’s community embracing her. Alexis cheated her, her little lock trick taking her away. Her vision blurred with vivid flashbacks, the car crashing into trees, and the metal caving in as she darted for the lake. Out of sight from below, she rushed towards her door with no keys. Dammit. The knob turned as if she willed it, Mick swinging the heavy door wide.
She flew into Mick’s arms, her best friend instantly absorbing the weight of her world. “Sweet heavens, sugar.” Mick hugged her tight, kicking the door closed. “It’s so good to lay eyes on you.” She rocked them back and forth, scents of home around them a soothing balm.
Mick leaned back, holding Sam at the shoulders for a once over. Sam blinked away the terror trying to haunt her, the worry slowly fading from Mick’s face. She was fine, steady hands tossing the cards to the foyer table and dropping her bag to the floor.
“You don’t look awful.” Mick’s blonde curls were loose and wild, brows lifting over her mischievous blue eyes. “Where’s your man?”
“Out.” Sam followed her into the living room, the two of them flopping on opposite sofas. Mick muted the re-run of Project Runway, tucking her tan legs beneath her.
“Out as in he’s coming back here?” Mick asked.
“As in sleeping here tonight.” Sam didn’t try to hide, knowing Mick would pry. She didn’t mind. Jake was a good distraction from the boxes in the corner. B
oxes lined the far wall, a roll of packing tape ready to go. “Alexis was just in the lobby.” She pulled off Jake’s hat, smoothing her hair back. Mick was up to speed on the recent revelation she was a Kramer bastard. At this point she knew more about what was going on than Sam did, having stayed with Nick the last few days. “How’s Nick?”
“What?” Mick tossed the pillow she’d been hugging aside. Snatching her phone up, she made a call in seconds. Sam pressed at her healing scalp, replaying Alexis’s words in her head.
“Alexis was just here,” Mick reported when Nick picked up. “In the lobby.” Her natural curls were wild and loose, her serious expression making her look fierce. “Not me, Sam.” She shoved the phone at Sam.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, Nick’s injuries of greater concern than Alexis.
“Hi, Sam, it’s Curtis Black. Nick’s sleeping.”
“Oh.” Pulling the phone from her ear, she checked the screen. Curtis Black. Why had Mick called Curtis? “Did Alexis threaten you or present any papers?” he asked, professional and to the point much like Nick.
“No.” Was he at Nick’s apartment? He said Nick was sleeping.
“What was the purpose of the visit?”
“She said she wanted to apologize, but she didn’t.”
“Did she try to negotiate?”
“No. I don’t think she knows any big words.” The man chuckled, something she’d never from his dark broody demeanor.
“Did you threaten her?”
“No.”
“Was Charlie there to witness the confrontation?”
“Yes. How do you know Charlie?”
“I interviewed him after the lock incident.”
“Right. Why are you at Nick’s?”
“Because Mick’s with you,” he said, annoyed with her stupid question. “I’m glad you guys are okay.” She thought he’d hung up, but then heard her name. “Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“How you holding up?”
“Fine.” She gave the generic response, surprised he asked.
“Do you have somewhere to be, because we can come over there.”
“Nah. Mick’s been worried about you. You guys stay put.”
“Thank you,” she said into a now empty line. Tossing the phone back to Mick, Sam narrowed her eyes. “You’ve got Curtis on speed dial?”
“He came over with some papers.” She waved her hand. “He took pity on me and put Nick’s stubborn ass to bed.” She laughed. “It’s like those comedies where the mom will leave her kid with anyone just to get a break.”
“That bad?”
“He’s getting up and down a lot better now, so he thinks he can do everything. He dropped his tablet, which was a worse fit than any two-year-old’s ever thrown.” She held up one finger. “He swears he’s allergic to my perfume, which I don’t even own.” Another finger pokes up, keeping count. “Don’t get me started on him trying to shower by himself. Like I’ve never seen a penis.”
“You saw Nick’s penis?”
“No, but Curtis has because his stubborn ass fell and he couldn’t get up by himself. By that point, I was fine with letting him drown.” Sam laughed imagining the up-tight lawyer wrangling a naked Nick.
“Is he okay?”
“Curtis? He’s scarred for life.” She laughed harder, Mick breathing life right into her. She carried on about Nick’s antics and unmasked Curtis Black’s serious side.
“Thank you,” Sam said, her stomach sore from laughing. “You can stay here tonight.”
“No offense, but I booked a suite at The Royal with my parents.” She stood and stretched before heading off to the kitchen. “Jake’s staying the night, right?” Mick pulled down two wine glasses, selecting a bottle of red. Sam nodded, shying from eye contact. “You’re an adult, Sam. You can have sleepovers. Especially when Alexis thinks she can show up here.”
Mick set the glasses on the coffee table, giving Sam the shorter pour. The occasional glass of wine was all she really drank, but she welcomed the taste.
“Alexis isn’t the only one,” she said, after a sip. “Mitch dropped by.” Mick shot her a glance over the rim of her glass, taking a long sip. “He sent flowers,” she added, thankful for the safe space to talk it out.
“Do you want to see him?”
“Jake doesn’t want him anywhere near me.”
“Do you want to see him? And why?”
“Closure.” She tested the theory, using Mick as her unbiased sounding board. “I didn’t come home from Boston that weekend planning to never go back. I was just cooling off, you know?”
“But you didn’t go back,” Mick prompted. “I would’ve moved home, too, if I found out Mom was sick again, but I wouldn’t have cut the cord.” Her fingers made a snipping motion.
“It’s not like he came running after me,” she said, still not sure who dumped who.
“Then why do you need closure?” she asked, provoking a thought process Sam had avoided.
“Because I made the first move. I walked away from a man who wanted to take the next step with me. That’s why we were fighting in the first place.” Frustration rasped her voice, the hurt she buried deep creeping to the surface. “Nothing isn’t a response,” she gritted out.
“What would’ve been the right response? If he chased after you, would you have worked it out? Or what if he called and said ‘Good call, Sam’? Isn’t there a tiny part of you that’s glad he did nothing?”
Sam played the scenarios through one by one. She’d played them before when she’d expected his call, but after a week she shoved it all aside. It still hurt, but her perspective was new. Would she have worked it out? They might’ve gone back to what they were, but she wouldn’t be moving in. He traveled six days a week, which is why they lasted as long as they did. Sex and breakfast before practice and work was how they existed. Scenario Two would be if he called and broke it off. She could deal with that if he gave a reason.
“Why?” She finally realized. Her type A personality needed the win. She needed the stroke to her ego. She was a good catch. Ivy league education, wealthy, successful and hey, she owned a mirror. “Why wasn’t I worth it?” she asked Mick.
“What version of why would win you back?” Mick arched her brow inquisitively. “Which one would make you want him back?”
“None.” She fell back into the pillows. Mitch was charming and very persistent when he asked her out. She met him through his parents, who he put at The Royal for his first Rookie game. They were uncomfortable with the five-star accommodations, but he really wanted the red carpet rolled out for them. It was sweet. His persistence finally won him a date. The first six months was new and exciting, but they both had full time careers and she was a full-time student.
When she graduated, they finally had that break. They could see each other more, take the time to enjoy each other’s company. Asking her to move in had scared the living shit out of her. His career was in Boston, not hers. The only thing left in Boston was him.
“None?” Mick asked, pulling her from her thoughts. She met her friend’s eyes, a smirk teasing her lips.
“He was a three-year booty call,” Sam admitted. “And it wasn’t even that good.”
“Compared to Jake?” Mick asked, with a tilt of her head.
“Not one orgasm in three years.” Sam laughed, holding up three fingers.
“You poor thing,” Mick joined in, the two of them letting tension roll in a fit of giggles that felt so good. Mick gave them both a second pour. “I’m assuming Jake schooled you in orgasms?” Sam smiled from the inside out, ready and willing for some girl talk. “Before you paint me green with envy, we’re gonna get you your closure.” She slid over her phone.
“He left a message.” Sam sprung from the couch. Closure was good. She sifted the envelopes in the foyer, picking his handwriting from the pile - the cardstock from her building, Charlie letting him leave a message when she wasn’t home. “Please call me. It’s important.” she read,
making her way back to Mick. “Easy enough.” Mick snagged her phone from reach.
“Sit down.” She picked up Sam’s glass, offering it to her as she sat. Sam gripped the glass, meeting Mick’s gaze. Her sky-blue eyes flared with anger, but not at her. Her hand was solid on Sam’s knee, “Mitch didn’t chase after you because he got caught red-handed with someone else.”
“What?” Sam shook her head, but Mick didn’t budge. “How do you know this?” she asked, a cold bath of shame washing over her. Tears pricked as emotions climbed. Her worst nightmare. He’d made a fool of her. Everyone knew?
“Don’t you dare cry,” Mick warned, her anger somehow creating calm. “He thinks you walked off and never looked back. Make it true.” She slid her phone between them. “This doesn’t change anything.”
“It changes everything. He made a fool of me. He stepped out.” She slammed her glass down. “How do you know? Why are just now telling me?” she demanded.
“I just now found out.” Mick snapped her fingers, pointing between Sam’s ass and the cushion she sprang from. Sam sat and drained her wine. “I overhead Travis and Nick plotting his murder this afternoon.”
“What?”
“I know, right? That’s my job.” Mick’s hand pressed flat to her chest, her eyes easing with a twinkle of humor. “They weren’t going to tell you, but I know he’s sniffing back around and you’re not fragile. You need to know.”
“Nick knows?” She asked the obvious, pissing herself off. Dammit. Fuck Mitch. She hated a cheater. Only me. Jake’s demand came out of nowhere. He had big time beef with Mitch. Shit, she was feeling smaller and smaller. He knew. “And Jake?” She swallowed, throat dry.
“That’s the fucked-up twist,” Mick said, refilling their glasses. “Jake’s the one that caught him.” Sam’s head spun so fast, she risked snapping her neck. “What’s that game where there’s players from different teams?” Mick snapped her fingers, her baseball knowledge a little light.
