by Marti Shane
Payroll could be made easier. There were several foremen that were paid by the job. The foremen paid their own crews and it looked like, depending on the time it took for the job, a percentage was paid up front. This was Jax’s headache she quickly figured out. Digging in, she worked through the paid and moneys owed, designing a more efficient system in her head as she went.
Sam looked up from the laptop, heaven wafting from the brown paper bag dropped on her desk. She hadn’t heard Jake and Jax walk in, having lost herself in the app she was working on. Jax wore a scowl, his papers stacked neatly in three folders at the corner of the desk.
“The totals are written on the outside for each crew,” she explained. “I created a new phone extension and called and introduced myself to the foremen. They’ll call me for payroll in the future,” she said, sliding the bag over and peaking inside. “Mr. Thompson is dropping a check by this afternoon and Mrs. Mattsey will drop hers by after the girls’ ballet lesson tomorrow.”
“I won’t be here,” Jax said, inspecting the content of the folders.
“I will.” She smiled, pulling a wrapped sandwich from the bag. The drive was only forty-five minutes and the last hour had her pumped to get back to work. “My contract’s in your email. Digital signature is fine.”
“Sam, you don’t have to start right now,” Jake balked.
“That’s between me and Jax.” She stood her ground. “He’s going to be in Promise and that gives me a chance to get organized here.” The last hour was the first time she’d been alone in a while. The forty-five minute drive each way appealed to her, even though she’d have to learn to drive a stick.
“It doesn’t have to be tomorrow.”
“I know.” She held up her hand, ceasing the protest. He let it go, leaning back in the leather chair and propping his feet on her desk. Sam inspected her sandwich while Jax audited her work.
“Fried chicken BLT,” Jake informed her, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Ms. Milly makes the best.” She’d heard of the famous sandwich but wouldn’t mention Mitch. Biting in, it deserved all the rave. Maybe she should run the forty-five minute drive every day. The phone rang and she swatted Jax’s hand away.
“J&J. This is Sam.”
“Sam.” The deep and cheerful voice greeted her. “I didn’t know you were starting today. This is Mark Jaeger.” Oh shit, their Dad. “You kids need to come to the house tonight and have dinner.” Fuck, shit, no.
“They’re feeding me a fried monstrosity from Ms. Milly’s at the moment.”
“Ohhh,” he chuckled, sounding much like his sons. “The fried chicken BLT. Bad for the ticker, but good for the soul.”
“Would you like to speak with Jake?” She offered the phone over without waiting for a response. “Your Dad.”
“Hey Pop,” he said with an instant smile. They chatted back and forth, Sam wishing he wouldn’t make plans. She looked up, catching Jax’s gaze.
“They don’t bite,” he whispered. “They’re more like over-friendly Great Danes that think they’re lap dogs and try to lick you to death.” He burst out laughing. “You should see your face!” She couldn’t help but to laugh with him, even though her nerves stretched to no end. Meeting the parents wasn’t on the agenda today. It wasn’t on the agenda this month. “Keep Pop talking about baseball and I’ll run interference with Mom.” He pulled the contract up on his phone. “Least I can do since you finished my payroll.”
“I’m making you guys an app, so they can log hours as they go from their phone.” Jax lifted a brow considering the change. “The objective here is to free up your time while adding real talent, not admin.” He nodded with an audible exhale. “You won’t be disappointed.”
“Can you print this?” he asked, the contract displayed on his screen.
“No.” She scowled. “You’re going digital. Trees are for building homes.”
“And toilet paper,” Jake added, hanging up the phone. “Mom’s making meatloaf and taters.” He took the half of Sam’s BLT she hadn’t touched. “Better not fill up.” Jax snagged the bag, helping himself to her fries.
At five o’clock on the dot, Sam closed her laptop. She’d ordered a scanner, prioritized her talent list and made good progress on the app. Jax hovered, which she didn’t mind. This was his baby and he was nervous to let it go. Jake spent the afternoon in his office, his celebrity career catching up to his off the grid time the past week.
Despite her confidence about J&J, anxiety still churned her half-eaten BLT. Clients, no problem. She could solve any problem and communicate solutions all day. Jake hadn’t seen her as the awkward social turd she was, but he was about to find out. She avoided social engagements, her ears ringing at the thought. Clients she could deal with. Facts, data, reading people’s needs. No problem.
“I’m starving.” Jake came out of his office, stretching and rubbing his abs. “You guys ready?” Resisting the urge to vomit, she forced a smile and fell in stride. This wasn’t going to go well.
Chapter Seventeen
Jake imagined tonight differently in his head. They’d sat with Sam’s friends and family at the Royal and had a perfectly good time despite the circumstances. With his parents…he was disappointed to say the least. She’d barely touched her food, and he could tell his Mom was tired of her short answers.
Are you from Atlanta? Yes.
You went to Harvard? Yes. On scholarship I hear. Yes.
Do you have brothers and sisters? A brother.
Was it nerves? He pushed away from the table, collecting his empty plate. Sam started to do the same, but he encouraged her to eat the ridiculously small portions she’d put on her plate. Jax joined him in the clean-up, ordering his Mom to sit and relax when she tried to join.
“I made an extra pan for you to take with you,” she said. “And there’s cobbler.” She graciously accepted the kiss he dropped on her cheek, Jax doing the same when he passed by.
Jax scraped and stacked plates while Jake rinsed and loaded the dishwasher. It was always a race to get it done before his mom came in and shooed them away. He was hoping maybe, with him out of the room, his parents might somehow put her at ease.
“You were right,” Jax spoke up, tying up the garbage. “She’s got a stick up her ass.” He shook out a new bag, wrestling it over the rim of the can. “Maybe meet the parents was a little premature?”
“Where do you think I’ve been the last three days?” Jake snapped, shoving the dishwasher closed.
“She has parents?” Jax asked, confused. “I mean…I assumed she didn’t because her grandmother...” Jax trailed off.
“Sloane raised her.” He faced his brother, leaning on the opposite counter. He kept his voice low. “Her mom’s a piece of work. Showed up at the funeral strung out on something. Sam hadn’t seen her since she was six.” He pictured Sam, cool and in control of her mother’s antics as she told her to fuck off and die. She had the same defenses up tonight, and he hated it.
“How’d she handle it?”
“Like she handles everything,” he said, not sure how to explain.
“She got a dad?”
“As far as I know her mom’s still with him. No one talks about him.”
“So how fucked up is she?” Jax asked, and despite the humor he injected, Jake heard the concern.
“An occasional stick up the ass.” He shrugged, not sure what else to say. “I feel bad for Mom.”
“Don’t. Sam will warm up to her.” Jax pulled out his phone, snapping a picture of the two trays on the island.
“Travis?”
“Yep.” The response on his phone was instant, and his heart lifted at his brother’s smile. Promise was already good for him. Sam, too. He was just…lighter. Jax turned the screen showing Travis holding a fork in his hand. “Did you know he took Sam to prom?” Jake glared at his brother who only smiled. “He said she’s a great kisser.” Jake spun the towel in his hands, Jax dodging as he popped it toward his thighs.
His phone pin
ged again, Jake giving a short reprieve. He knew instantly it wasn’t Travis when Jax tucked it away.
“Still?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s drunk.”
“It’s Monday.”
“Did you say anything to Sam? I mean about me and Mason?”
“No,” Jake defended. “But even if she knew, it’s fine. She’s intense about client privacy.”
“You don’t have to lie for me.”
“I know, but I’m sick of lying for Mason.”
“He’s on notice.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not hiding anymore, so he needs to distance himself.”
“You’re coming out?”
“I’m already out to anyone who matters, but I’m ready to be free.”
“I want that for you.”
“I know.” Jax raked a hand through his hair. “Hell of a week huh?”
A week ago today they were arguing about firing Mason and the changes they needed to make when Sam crashed into their lives. It’s only been a week, Jake reminded himself, and they’ve come pretty far.
“Guess who I worked out with last night?” he remembered, thinking the week had ended pretty damn good.
The news exploded from Jax’s mouth as soon as the dining table was in sight.
“Jake worked out with Otis Smithfield last night!” Jake’s eyes went to Sam’s. He could see she was amused with Jax, but relieved he was back in the room.
“How’d you manage that?” his Dad asked, leaning to the edge of his seat. Sam stood with her plate before he took it, her napkin covering the uneaten contents.
“Sit,” Sam ordered, collecting more dishes and forcing a smile.
“I met him through Sam,” he said, collecting his Dad’s plate.
“Is he a client of yours?” his Dad asked Sam.
“My Godfather,” she explained, carrying her plate from the room.
“She bats like a pro,” Jake added, wishing she’d lighten the fuck up. He followed her to the kitchen, her back turned as she scraped her plate in the trash. He set the dishes down, practically biting his tongue in half.
“I like how you and Jax do dishes,” she said, rinsing her plate. “It’s sweet.”
“Wow. A full sentence,” he said, irritated as hell.
“Rules of cross examination. Stick to the scope of the question in three words or less.”
“You’re not being interrogated.”
“No, you’re not being interrogated.”
“These are my parents, Sam. They’re trying to get to know you.”
“This is me. Painfully awkward in social settings.” She pulled another plate from the stack, not sparing him a glance.
“Maybe it would be less awkward if you actually said something.”
“Like what?” she hissed, green eyes piercing his. “Every question scrapes back the surface, digging a little deeper into my past.”
“Do you not trust me at all? I wouldn’t let them pry,” he pushed back. “Jesus, Sam. They’re just trying to have a conversation.”
“About me, not with me,” she said, shoving his temper over the edge.
“My parents would never make you uncomfortable and no one’s fucking interrogating you. Do you want me to take you home?”
Jake seethed as the word home haunted the room. Sam let her silence speak for her. She no longer had a home, but it was obvious that was where she’d rather be. He wanted to be home for her, but maybe it was all moving too fast.
“I should’ve asked you if you wanted to come,” he admitted, realizing her choices were limited.
“You met everyone I know in three days. Did you see any friends from college, high school, or even co-workers?” Her combative tone was gone, her cheeks tinged with pink. He couldn’t remember anyone Sam’s age at the service, just Mick and Travis. Even Otis told him last night, Sam never made any friends in her league. He’d ended up coaching her on her own.
“I’m sorry,” he offered, realizing how uncomfortable she must be. He didn’t understand it. They were more than friends. She’d let him right in.
“It’s not your fault I’m weird.” She stepped back from his touch. “And I’m sorry for making it weird for everyone.”
He pulled her lips to his. “Try five words.” He smiled against her lips. “At least one noun and one verb.”
“I dig you.” She smiled back. “Very much.” She tacked on, taking the total words from three to five.
“I owe Dad and Jax a play-by-play of Otis’s yesterday. That’ll fill the next twenty minutes or so.”
Even though Sam didn’t share much, his parents gave her a full glimpse into Jake. His mom didn’t hold back, exposing him and Jax for the tyrants they were.
“Gymnastics?” she asked in surprise.
“They climbed on everything as soon as they could crawl.” His mom told the story he’d heard a thousand times. “I thought it was safer if they learned some skills.”
“Can you do back flips?” she asked, the sentence exactly five words.
“Do I get a prize?”
“Don’t challenge him, Sam,” his Dad warned. “Neither one of them knows how to back down from a challenge.” Jake pushed his dessert plate her way, the ice cream almost melted over the warm cobbler.
“You’ve gotta try this.”
“I guess I should,” she agreed, picking up her fork. “Travis didn’t leave a crumb from the last one.” She took a bite, nodding at her delight.
“I can give you the recipe”, his mom offered, but Sam only nodded politely. Oh shit. He realized she didn’t cook. She’d never lived on her own except in a five-star hotel and a college dorm. Reading his mind, she slapped him on the arm.
“I can cook.”
“I can’t wait.”
The night was going better, but Jake had hoped for more. His parents were patient and hadn’t pried. He’d given her a tour, sharing his childhood home. She asked questions hesitantly, never wanting to pry. He hoped things would change, sooner rather than later. He was an open book, and she’d been the same until now. The thought arose that if he’d met her any other time, would he have had the same chance?
“We’re going to head out,” he told his Mom, finding her in her study.
“Where’s Sam?” she asked, uncurling her legs. She was on her favorite chaise in the study, his Dad and Jax catching the start of the game.
“Restroom.” He gave his mom as hug as she rose, her head barely to his chest. “Thanks for dinner.”
“Of course. She’s beautiful and brilliant, just like you said.”
“It’s been a tough week. She’s not really herself.”
“Don’t make excuses for her. Make her carry her own weight.”
“Mom?” She held up a hand, her features stern.
“I listened to one son make excuses for his partner for five years.”
“I’m not making excuses.”
“Sure you are. She’s closed off, Jake.”
“She’s had a tough week, Mom.”
“And I adore you for being there for her. I’m proud of you.” She squeezed her tiny hand over his forearm. “When you try to break down someone’s walls, you can end up breaking yourself instead.” She patted his chest with her other hand. “The bigger your heart, the harder it breaks.” His Mom’s face fell, her eyes locked in over his shoulder. “Sam.”
“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Sam delivered exactly five words. His mom’s hand splayed over her chest her head shaking side to side.
“I didn’t mean-“
“It’s alright.” Sam walked in the room, Jake turning, his body shielding his mom’s. “It’s good advice,” she said, seeming more relaxed than she’d been all night.
“Sam, truly…” His mom flustered for words. Jake knew this would haunt her, knowing she’d hurt Sam’s feelings. Sam wrapped both his mother’s hands in hers, the gesture genuine as her smile.
“You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.�
� Her eyes found Jake’s. “Jake had the misfortune of meeting my mother. Believe me, you’re one of the good ones.” She slid her hands free, turning to leave the room. His heart swelled. She overcame being painfully shy, to be overwhelmingly brave. She opened the door to her mother, for the sake of putting his mom at ease.
“I’m sorry, Honey,” his mom said next to him, almost in tears.
“Don’t be. You’re being a good mom.”
“I assumed her mom was…”
“Dead?” he finished for her. “She gave Sam up.”
“I had no idea.”
“She’s not so closed off. She shared.” He knew his mom’s concern, but he didn’t have the words. Sam was a gut feeling to him. It felt right.
They headed back to the shop for Jax to grab his truck before they hit the road. Sam was quiet, which he was learning was normal in mixed company. In time, maybe that would change.
“Isn’t that Mason?” she asked, the headlights reflecting from the glass bottle in his hand. He was perched on the side stairs, waiting for Jax.
“Jesus.” Jax groaned. “He’s drunk. I just want to get to the lake.”
“I can call a ride.” Sam pulled out her phone.
“Not in Cross City you won’t,” Jax bitched.
“They’ll be here in ten,” she said, her screen lit with a notification.
“Who?” Jake asked.
“His Dad’s a U.S. Senator. There’s always someone nearby.”
“He’s a client?” Jax pushed his body through the front seats.
“I don’t discuss clients.” Sam held up her hand. “Which one of you is keeping him occupied until pick up?”
“I am.” Jake popped open his door, leaving the lights to blind Mason of Jax and Sam.
“I’ve called you like thirty times”, Mason slurred as he got closer. “You make your brother fire me and then you fall off the face of the earth?” Jake started to correct him, tell him he wasn’t Jax. “I came out.” Mason added, making him freeze. “To my Dad.”
