“Have you been speaking to my assistant?” Sam narrowed her eyes. She could usually read her sister like a book, but tonight she was failing miserably. In all honesty, she had no idea what Lindsay was thinking.
“Cheryl? Yeah. I told you I’d called the office earlier.”
“I’m talking about me. Have you been talking to her about me?”
“No, why?” Lindsay twirled her hair with her index finger. “Should I?”
“She just…she’s convinced I need to go out and find someone.” Sam’s deep brown eyes closed, her teeth tugging on her bottom lip. “She left me something today. Something she said I’d asked for.”
“What?”
“I'm not sure I should say.” Sam shook her head ever so slightly. “I've already made the mistake of thinking about it…”
“Thinking about what, Sam?”
“A uh…” Sam hesitated for a moment, running her slender fingers around the rim of her wine glass. “Just a…”
“Huh?”
“An escort.” She placed a hand over her face. “A fucking escort.”
“You…with an escort?” Lindsay raised an eyebrow, proud that her sister was willing to move forward. “Sam Phillips…paying a woman to spend time with her?”
“Exactly. You see how stupid that sounds?”
“Actually, I think it’s a genius idea.” Lindsay beamed as she sat forward. “Absolutely genius.”
“How the hell do you come to that conclusion?” Sam stared at her sister incredulously. “I mean, really?”
“You don’t want to commit to another woman. I don’t believe that is how you should live your life, not at all, but that’s your decision. If you do choose to remain loveless, an escort is one way to curb any cravings you have.”
“I don’t have any cravings.”
“That may be true, but coming home every night and locking yourself away is not good for you, Sam. Find a woman who just wants to spend time with you. To converse with you.”
“Those women don’t want to spend time with me. They’re doing it for the money. Big money, I might add. Do you have any idea how much an escort charges?”
“Nope.”
“One-thirty,” Sam roared. “An hour!”
“Like you’d notice if that disappeared from your account.”
“That’s not the point.” Sam groaned, swinging her legs off the couch and standing. “Do you want another?” She pointed at her sister’s wine glass, gaining a nod from Lindsay. “The point is…that I don’t think I should be spending my time with escorts.”
“Why? What’s wrong with it?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it. If that’s how people choose to make a living, that’s up to them.”
“Really, because you sounded a little judgy.” Lindsay loved her sister, but at times, she could be infuriating. Sam needed this. She believed Sam knew that, too.
“I’m not.” Sam returned to her sister, handing her glass over. “You know I’m the least judgmental person around.”
Sam flopped down on the couch, resting her head against the low back. “Can you imagine what Lucia would say?”
“I know what she’d say.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” Sam’s jaw clenched. “Since you seem to know exactly how I should live my life.”
“She’d tell you to be happy, Sam.” Lindsay shifted, resting her head on her sister’s shoulder. “She’d tell you to stop wasting time sitting around. She’d tell you to go home and live your life.”
“I am home.”
“No, you’re not.” Lindsay sighed. “This will never be your home. I’ve never seen anyone looking so uncomfortable…”
“I-I don’t know.”
“And that’s okay.” Lindsay leaned up, pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek. “You’ll know when the time is right, but if you’re waiting for some kind of blessing from Lucia, you know you already have it.”
“Y-Yeah.” Sam closed her eyes briefly, willing her tears to disappear. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“Tomorrow is another day.” Lindsay smiled. “I’ll stay the night. Keep you company.”
“You know what? I’d like that.”
“Good, because I’m not leaving.”
***
Sam woke to the sound of cups clanging around her kitchen, startling her before she wished to rise. This is why I live alone. She groaned, throwing back the thin sheet that had covered her during the night and climbed to her feet. God knows what I’m about to be faced with. She brushed her dark hair from her face and made her way out into the open-plan space. She found Lindsay in the kitchen, trying to work her new coffee machine, muttering expletives as she did.
“Need some help?”
“Only you could have a fucking coffee machine with an app attached to it.”
“It gives you options, Linds. It’s fascinating.”
“No, it’s a ball ache,” her sister retorted, moving away from the machine and groaning. “I just want a cup of black coffee. How hard can that be?”
“Okay, but what strength do you want?”
“Strength?” Lindsay’s eyes widened. “Just one strong enough to prevent me from throwing you from the window.”
“Well, that was rude.” Sam pushed her sister out of the way and prepared a coffee she knew she’d enjoy. While her sister was only seven years younger than her, her immaturity often shone through. Polar opposites in every aspect of their lives, Sam settled down early on in life, marrying her wife at the age of twenty-seven, yet Lindsay was still partying hard at the age of thirty. Work was nothing to Lindsay, compared to Sam and her dedicated professionalism. Lindsay worked at a local bar, occasionally taking on photography gigs when someone contacted her, but Sam was at the office by eight am each morning, working until the evening rush hour traffic had died down.
“Why are you awake so early?” Sam turned to face her sister. “Even I’m not awake at six each morning.”
“Couldn’t sleep. Unfamiliar place.”
“Mm, I know that feeling.” Sam pursed her lips, turning her attention back to the coffee machine. “Here. Try that.”
“So…” Lindsay sipped, moaning her approval. “Alexis?”
“What?” Sam almost spewed her coffee down the front of her pyjamas.
“Alexis.” Lindsay winked. “She looks nice…”
“You’ve been going through my laptop!”
“Hardly. It was open on her page.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Sam admonished her sister. “Why can’t everyone leave me alone?”
“I’m your sister… I don’t have to leave you alone.” Lindsay looked pointedly at Sam. “I should be the one you come to when you have a dilemma like this.”
“I don’t have a dilemma. You just like to match-make.”
“Wrong. I like to see my sister happy.”
“And I was perfectly happy in my own little bubble before you and Cheryl came in and ruined it.”
“That’s not very nice.” Lindsay pushed out her bottom lip. “I love you and want the best for you.”
“You know what’s best for me?” Sam slammed her coffee cup down. “Letting me get on with my business and staying out of a love life that will never exist.”
“She wouldn’t like this…” Lindsay called out as Sam walked away towards her bathroom.
“You know what?” Sam turned around. “She may not like it, but you know what I didn’t like?”
“What?”
“Her dying. Her leaving. We were supposed to be together forever so don’t stand there and tell me she wouldn’t like that I’m single and lonely. If she was here, that wouldn’t be the fucking case!”
“Sam, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure Lucia is too.” Sam slammed the bathroom door shut and rested back against it, sinking down to the floor.
***
Sam steadied herself, tucking her white silk s
hirt into her black fitted pants. Slipping her feet into her heels, she squared her shoulders and gave herself the once over in the mirror. Lindsay was still outside but knowing that she’d looked up Alexis annoyed Sam. She didn’t want to reprimand her sister, but she couldn’t allow this kind of behaviour. It wasn’t acceptable and Sam wouldn’t tolerate it, regardless of who it came from. Whether it be Lindsay or Cheryl, she didn’t like the recent turn of events. It left her feeling uncomfortable. Unsure. Apprehensive.
Lifting her phone from the bed, Sam checked for any messages, finding none from Cheryl. While she fully believed that her assistant was treading on thin ice, Sam wanted to apologise. She wanted to put the escort situation to bed and get on with her job. A job that had provided everything Sam and Lucia could ever need. Yet it didn’t save her. Sam picked up the framed photo sitting on her bedside table, her fingertips brushing gently against the glass. God, I miss you so much. Sam swallowed down the lump in her throat as she returned the photograph to its place with shaky hands.
“I’ll see you tonight.” Sam’s voice wavered, her back connecting with the bedroom door. “Just you and me. Always.”
“Sam?”
“I’ll be out in a moment,” she called back to her sister. “If you have to leave, that’s fine.”
“I-I do have to leave, but I wanted to see you before I did,” Lindsay stuttered. “Please, come out…”
Sam slowly turned the handle, praying her eyes didn’t give her away. “I’m okay. See?”
“You’ve been crying.” Lindsay leaned against the frame of the door. “If that’s because of me, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not. I’m sorry about this morning.” Sam waved off her sister’s apology. “No more of this, okay?”
“Which?”
“Trying to find someone to spend my evenings with. I’m perfectly fine coming home and preparing for the next day. I don’t need a woman in my life. I have everything I need.” Sam squeezed her sister’s shoulder and smiled. “Now, you should go home before Mum has a fit about where you’ve been all night. Tell her I’ll call her tonight after dinner.”
“Why don’t you come to Mum’s for dinner? You know she’d love us all to be together.” While Lindsay wanted to push their conversation regarding Sam’s loneliness, she wouldn’t. Her sister had been through enough emotion already this morning.
“I don’t know what my schedule looks like yet,” Sam said. “Let me have a look at my day once I get to the office and I’ll call you.” Sam was fully aware of her schedule for the day. She merely didn’t want to get into something with Lindsay right now.
“That works for me.” Lindsay kissed Sam’s cheek. “I am sorry about this morning.”
“It’s forgotten about.”
Sam watched her sister leave, throwing her a wave as she slipped out of her apartment door. Releasing a deep breath, she gave herself a moment before leaving too, not wanting to share the lift with Lindsay this morning. She felt suffocated. She needed to come up for air, and that couldn’t happen while her concerned sister was standing beside her, sharing the same space.
Sam closed her eyes and calmed herself. Of course, she appreciated everything her loved ones had done for her in the two years since Lucia passed away, but they couldn’t look after her forever. They had their own lives, their own problems. Before Sam foolishly opened her laptop last night, she didn’t believe she had any issues to contend with. But now, after spending an hour showering and allowing her thoughts to get the better of her, she felt differently.
Three
“I understand that, Stains, I really do…” Sam pinched the bridge of her nose. “But I’m not prepared to scrimp on contractors because you want the job done for less. I’m sorry, but we know what happens when we make shortcuts.”
“What?”
“Problems arise. In some cases, people lose their lives.” Sam had dealt with this man before, and the second time around, she continued to have issues with him. “Those people who will move into that apartment block, paying a lot of money to do so, wouldn’t appreciate a shoddy job. I’m not about to provide one. You sign off on the estimate, or you find someone else. I won’t have my name, my wife’s name, tarnished when the shit hits the fan.”
“Sam, love…”
“Don’t, Roger!” Sam gritted her teeth. “Make your decision. You have until the end of the week or I’m pulling out.”
Sam returned the handset to the receiver, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt a headache approaching. Pressing the speakerphone, she called outside to Cheryl. “Come to my office.”
“Be right there.”
Cheryl sounded perky this morning; Sam had recognised that the moment she walked through the double doors at eight am. She wanted to believe that Cheryl was being her usual self, but after yesterday’s exchange of words, she couldn’t.
“Mrs Phillips?” Cheryl appeared in her doorway. “How did the call with Stains go?”
“How do you think?” Sam glanced at the door, motioning for Cheryl to come inside. “Have a seat…”
“He wants you to change the estimate, doesn’t he?” Cheryl relaxed into the high-back leather chair facing her boss.
“Of course he does.” Sam nodded, gathering paperwork in her hand. “He’s always been a tight arse, but he won’t have me on board if he continues.”
“No, I know.” Cheryl smiled. “I don't know how he expects you to do it for less, I really don't.”
“I can't.” Sam shrugged, turning her full attention to her assistant. “He believes I'm adding on for my own gain. Has he seen my accounts? My portfolio?”
“I’m going to assume he hasn’t.”
“About yesterday.” Sam held up her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“No, I am,” Cheryl countered. “I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in your business. I was just doing what you asked me to do.”
“I don't recall the conversation we had at Cork, I really don't, but that doesn’t mean that I had any right to speak to you how I did.”
“Don't worry about it.” Cheryl crossed her legs. “I won't mention it again.”
“You said you use the website…” Sam drummed her fingers on her desk. “Often, or…?”
“Depends what mood I'm in.” Cheryl smirked. “There was a time when I used it more than I should…”
“Because?”
“Because I was lonely,” Cheryl admitted.
“And you're not anymore?”
“Actually, I’m dating someone.”
“Oh, that’s great.” Sam smiled, clasping her hands together. “About time you let your hair down.”
“Trust me, I let my hair down. That website was epic at times.”
“I’m sure it was.” Sam wanted to remain neutral, but the more Cheryl talked, the more she needed to know. “Did you always book the same woman?”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, I'm glad you’ve found someone now.” Sam nodded. She may be intrigued, but her assistant didn’t need to know that. “It looks good on you.” She noted that glimmer Cheryl had in her eyes. “Perhaps you could bring her by the office some time?”
“Maybe I will.” Cheryl stood, fixing her skirt on her thighs. “Drinks on Friday?”
“Always.” Sam winked. “Friday is our reserved ‘thank fuck the week is over’ night…”
“And I will certainly drink to that when Friday comes.” Cheryl backed up, opening the office door. “I’m going to lunch in twenty. I’ll see you later.”
Settling back in her seat, Sam reopened the webpage she’d closed thirty minutes ago when Roger Stains called. It was a bad move on her part to even consider browsing the internet, but she’d already fallen into the possibility of hiring an escort, and she wasn't sure she could back out now. Not after Cheryl had all but sang the agencies praises. She clicked on Alexis’ ad details and picked up her personal phone. The website gave the option of calling or sending a text message; Sam opted
for the latter. The thought of making a phone call and hearing another woman’s voice, a woman she was interested in paying, would surely make her crumble into a thousand pieces.
***
Oh God! What have I done?
Sam’s hand trembled as she set her phone down on her desk for the fifth time in around forty minutes. Alexis had responded, opting to meet Sam at a restaurant this evening. Her heart was in her mouth but she couldn’t back out now. It was just dinner, after all.
What if she expects sex?
Sam’s stomach churned, the possibility of spending the evening with another woman causing bile to rise in her throat. Sam wasn't stupid; she knew what most escorts evenings entailed. Would hers be the same? Alexis didn’t look like some of the women in their profiles. She looked less inclined to expect sex at the end of their evening.
I'm not paying her for sex. I'm paying her for dinner.
A million and one thoughts whirled around Sam’s head, her eyes blurring as she stared at the blank computer screen in front of her. Should she just go home and pretend she’d never sent the message? Should she cancel? No, she couldn’t. Deep down, she didn’t want to. Perhaps it would be nice to not sit at home alone. This could be the start of something new, but what that something was, Sam had no idea. In all honestly, she didn’t know what she wanted from this evening. The only certainty she was aware of…was that tonight, she would be alone with a woman for the first time in two years.
A sudden panic set in, sending Sam’s pulse racing. She collected her phone from her desk and dialed her sister’s number. “H-Hello?”
“Sam, is everything okay?” Lindsay’s voice quivered. “Sam?”
“I made a mistake.”
“I don't think you’ve ever made a mistake in your life…”
“No, I have. This time… I definitely have.”
“Okay, calm down and talk to me.”
Sam’s breathing quickened. “I booked her.” Her voice trembled. “I booked a fucking escort.”
The Arrangement Page 2
