If the Boot Fits

by Rebekah Weatherspoon

  “I’d brush my teeth and throw in some lip gloss before I posted any selfies, but you’re still a ten.”

  “Thanks. Please get out of my room.”

  “Sure.”

  Amanda grabbed the pile of dirty clothes off the floor and carried them down to the laundry room before she went to hop on her morning call with Kaidence. Sam’s laugh popped into her head as she made her way down to the other end of the apartment. She smiled to herself, thinking about the way he’d kissed her, the way he’d felt on top of her.

  Today it didn’t matter how nasty Dru was or how many absurd tasks Kaidence threw her way. For one night, she’d gotten to be that girl, not just a D-list actress’s lowly assistant. The night she’d spent with Sam Pleasant might carry her to the end of the year. Or at least until the Teen Choice Awards.

  Chapter 2

  Sam Pleasant couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken up with a smile on his face. Today his mood before he even opened his eyes could only be described as good as fuck. He could still hear the sound of her laugh over the thumping music, feel her soft skin as his fingers trailed down her wrist. He stretched with a sigh, then rolled over to see if he could interest his new lady friend in some room service and possibly round two before they both started their day.

  But of course she was gone. What did he expect from a post-award-show one-night hookup? Not that there was anything wrong with the one and done, but he’d had such a good time with her—even before they’d made it back to the hotel—he’d already made up his mind that he wanted to see her again.

  Disappointment flooded through him as he looked at the empty side of the bed, now cold like he hadn’t spent the night with one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever laid eyes on. He glanced around the room, hoping to spot a note or something, but all he saw was his Gucci suit placed over the hotel room chair. He smiled again, knowing full well who had set it there. He had vivid memories of dropping it on the floor piece by piece as he and Cha-Cha made their way to the bed.

  He’d called her Cha-Cha in his head all night. But now he wished he’d gotten her real name. And her number. It didn’t have to be a thing, but . . . he didn’t want it to be over just yet.

  Apparently, she didn’t feel the same way. Sam tried to shake off the rejection as he stood and made his way to the bathroom. He found his boxer briefs under the cover at the foot of the bed, then checked his phone. It flooded with texts and calls. He let out a deep breath and scrubbed a hand over his face as he scrolled to the text messages from his assistant, Walls.

  I’m up. You have a key?

  Walls responded right away.

  Yup got a key. I’ll be right over.

  I have your clothes and shit.

  Bet. Thanks.

  He switched back over to his text inbox. Looking over the congratulations and well wishes from friends and colleagues and castmates and a few unknown numbers, he still couldn’t fucking believe it. He was now Oscar-winning actor Samuel Pleasant. He couldn’t put the way he felt into words. He had another two years before he saw his thirtieth birthday, but he’d been working toward that golden statue his whole life.

  When his agent had brought the script for The Sky Beneath Our Feet to him, Sam had had his doubts. The story of the first recorded slave revolt needed to be told. It was a part of America’s history, his history, but like many other young Black actors, Sam was torn about telling another painful story of the Black experience. The part they wanted him for wasn’t the lead, and the true event had also involved white indentured servants. Sam hadn’t been sure if this was the right move for him.

  He’d talked to his family about it, and had several long conversations with his older brothers Jesse and Zach, but the opinions that mattered to him the most were his father’s and his grandmother’s. His father had left their family business, Big Rock Ranch, in the capable hands of Sam’s brothers to pursue his own acting career. His grandmother was the one and only, the incomparable Miss Leona Lovell. His grandma had nearly hit that EGOT before Sam was born and if anyone was equipped to give him career advice, it was her. They’d talked about the pros and cons, the timing, the money, and in the end he knew The Sky Beneath was the type of film that would generate some awards season buzz if not some actual nominations.

  Either way, once he’d signed on the dotted line, he’d poured himself into the role of Josiah. He’d mentally prepared himself for how draining the work would be, trying to fully comprehend the horrors of chattel slavery and how hard this country tried to forget it. After they’d wrapped he’d gone back to Big Rock for months, just to get his mind right again. He’d never been more grateful for how hard his grandparents had worked to give their family everything, including a lucrative business that gave Sam the financial freedom to chase his passion.

  The reviews were mixed. There were things audiences and critics loved, but the main criticism was that it was just another white savior film. The box office numbers were good, but the nominations were even better. Acting, directing, and cinematography from every nominating body in the industry. Walking down the red carpet into the Dolby Theatre with his grandmother and his cousin Corie by his side had been more than memorable. Walking out of the theater with the golden statue? No way, man. No way that had been real. He still couldn’t believe it. During the presser he thought he’d done a pretty good job of answering all the questions thoroughly and thoughtfully, but in the back of his mind he was still in disbelief. As the night had gone on and they’d moved from photo op to photo op and then on to the after-parties, he’d started to feel off. He’d won. He’d gotten exactly what he wanted, and yet . . .

  Maybe the weight of his accomplishments hadn’t sunk in yet. He was sure sometime soon, maybe later in the week, he’d finally understand that he’d knocked one hell of an item off his bucket list. For now though, it didn’t feel the way he’d expected. When he’d rehearsed his acceptance speech, he’d thought sheer joy would be the main emotion to take over, but that hadn’t happened at all. From the moment he’d heard his name fill the theater he’d been dealing with a low-grade panic attack. He hadn’t had a chance to consider what the hell that was all about before he’d been whisked off to perform the rest of his duties as an award winner.

  The pressure on his chest had lifted a little when he and Walls had ended up back in the limo. Walls had been determined to make him celebrate his win. Sam couldn’t fight his infectiously boisterous demeanor. He’d snapped himself out of the strange haze that had come over him and focused on the night of partying before him. He hadn’t realized he’d been going through the motions until he’d spotted her dancing, laughing, and smiling with her friends. Sam wasn’t into that hotep shit, but there had been something about that girl’s energy. In a room full of people trying to get close to him and the other winners, the other important names, it had been clear that she’d just come to have a good time.

  When Sam had seen her again at Kata and Rina’s after-party, he’d known he had to say something. He hadn’t been sure what the fuck he was gonna say when he’d crossed the room, but as soon as he opened his mouth, she’d solved that problem for him. Cha-Cha hadn’t wanted to talk. She’d just wanted to dance. So they’d danced until it became clear that whatever had been happening between them needed to continue somewhere else. He’d seen the doubt in her eyes when he’d suggested she join him back at his hotel, but just as quickly the hesitation vanished and she’d taken over the plan as they made their way toward the exit: He should leave first and then she’d follow. Man, he’d been glad when she’d actually shown up instead of leaving him standing in the hotel hallway looking like a fool.

  And then she’d dipped out sometime in the morning, never to be seen again.

  Nah, Hollywood was a small town. He’d probably see her again, it was just a matter of when. He was pretty sure he’d seen her hanging around with Helene Sawyer, his costar from his breakout film, Inferno. Wait until after her wedding, he reminded himself. Helene was getting married at
the ranch that upcoming weekend. He knew she had much more to worry about than his sex life.

  He’d ask her after the reception.

  Which reminded him. He dug back through his texts and found the messages his brothers had sent him during the ceremony. He’d called them quickly in the limo, but they didn’t get to talk long.

  Zach: CHECK OUT YA BOY!

  WINNING OSCARS AND SHIT.

  WHAT DID I TELL YOU!

  Jesse: So proud of you. And you know

  granddad would be over the moon.

  Another wave of strange emotions crashed over him as he tried to think of a heartfelt response. He couldn’t do it. Not over text. So he settled for their signature greeting.

  It’s the rock!

  Zach: Yeah, mane!

  We’re throwing a big party for you as soon as

  you get home.

  So proud, man. So proud.

  Thanks man.

  I still can’t believe it.

  Jesse: Well believe it cause it’s true.

  You got your statue.

  Sam sank down on the bed and let his head hang between his shoulders. His brain just wasn’t processing. He’d really done it. He’d won an Academy Award.

  A moment later, he heard the keycard lock engage and Walls came striding into the room.

  “What’s up, man? How you feeling? I got your breakfast.” Walls set a travel cup of coffee and a small pastry bag down on the table. Sam’s ritual was always to eat whatever the fuck he wanted after a big event. He’d put in his order with Walls over a week ago. The biggest almond croissant he could find. At the moment though, he had no appetite.

  “Pretty good, pretty good. I can’t complain.” Sam forced a smile and straightened up as Walls crossed his arms over his skinny chest.

  “I’m real happy for you. For real. But I do have one question.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “You lose something last night?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Why?” Sam glanced down like he wasn’t sitting there in his boxer briefs, then quickly glanced around the room. His suit, the phone, and his swag bag were all there. “What are you talking about?”

  “A JackRabbit runner dropped off your statue over at TCA a few hours ago. Coffey’s assistant has it.”

  “What?” Sam jumped up and crossed the room. He opened the swag bag that was still on the floor near the door. He searched through it and sure enough his Oscar statue wasn’t in there. But there was a small, see-through makeup bag with some mints, lip gloss, and the extra condoms they hadn’t used the night before.

  “Shit. She must have taken it by accident.”

  “Who?”

  “Uh—no one. Just—”

  Walls slapped the table, then pointed right at Sam’s chest. “I knew you went home with that chick last night!”

  “What chick? I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

  “Uh, the thick girl with the braids, all up like this,” Walls said, gesturing above his head in a swirling motion. “Sparkly jumpsuit thing. I saw you watch her Milly Rock back from the bathroom.”

  “Oh, her! It wasn’t like that.”

  “What was it like?”

  “Listen. She’s an old friend. We just wanted to catch up and it was loud in there. Couldn’t hear my own damn thoughts.”

  “Old friend, huh? From Charming.”

  “Yeah, sure. That sounds about right.”

  “You’re a dog, man. I hope you wrapped it up.”

  “I did. She came prepared.” Sam’s dates for the evening had been his elderly grandmother and his bi-flexible cousin. The last thing that had been on his mind was whether he would end the night with someone in his bed. Lesson learned. Always come prepared, no matter what.

  “But for real, who was she?” Walls said as he walked toward the bed. He looked at the sheets for a moment, then headed for the love seat on the other side of the room. “I saw her talking to Kata for a sec, but the rest of the night she was crushing it on the dance floor. Big girl had moves,” he laughed. He wasn’t lying either. His mystery woman had some serious moves and some serious curves. Sam almost got hard thinking about it. Instead he cringed.

  “I didn’t get her name.”

  “Man, what?!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.” It wasn’t like Sam to pull off the anonymous run-in. He was in his prime, but he’d always been a relationship guy. He wasn’t ashamed of that fact. He was also fiercely private. He never stopped Walls from doing his thing, but his buddy knew when he joked about going out and using the Pleasant name to pick up girls, Sam wasn’t really into it. He wasn’t shy like Jesse, and he wasn’t the former lady killer his brother Zach pretended not to be before he finally got back with his childhood sweetheart. He fell somewhere in the middle. He needed to get to know someone, establish a little something before he fell into bed with her. Also, falling into bed with random people in his line of work wasn’t the best idea.

  The way he’d broken his own rules and on such a public and important night was just proof of how off he’d been. But the more he thought about it he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He’d do his night with Cha-Cha all over again if he could just find her.

  “You see who she came with?” he asked Walls. It wasn’t a subtle question.

  “No. I mostly saw her on the dance floor, then in the corner with you. But forget about her,” Walls said. Sam knew that tone. Walls was scheming.

  “Just say it.”

  “I’m just saying. There are plenty of other fish in the sea. And your DMs.”

  “Nah, I told you—”

  “I know what you told me and I know you don’t roll with randoms, but that was before you won an Oscar. You have some A-list talent hitting you up.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” Sam said, frowning. Not that it made him special or unique, but Sam’s grandmother raised him to treat women a certain way and calling them names like talent didn’t sit right with him. They were human beings with feelings and they deserved to be respected. Even if they had slid into his DMs looking to hook up.

  “My bad. A few nice young ladies have made inquiries as to your relationship status,” Walls said. “Think of it like this. You’ve been fucking sulking since you ended things with Natalie. Maybe now—”

  “The fuck I have!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. You poured yourself back into your work. My bad, my bad.”

  “That’s right.” Okay, there had been sulking. He’d also met his ex Natalie Burke on the set of Inferno. Sam had hoped that over time things would progress, but after only two months she’d told her parents she was basically ready to get engaged, and Sam knew he had to end things. It wasn’t that commitment wasn’t on the table. He was pretty damn committed. It was the way she’d said it, over Christmas dinner, in front of most of her family, all while giving Sam this look like he had between then and New Year’s to get his ass to Jared or he would be in big trouble. They hadn’t even talked about marriage or what they wanted from a life together in the long term. So he’d ended it. Still it had taken him a while to get over her.

  But no one else needed to know that.

  “What’s your point and don’t be a pig about it.”

  “I was just saying, since you’re in the big leagues now, and you clearly miss having a girlfriend, you should know that some interesting people have popped up in your DMs in the last twenty-four hours.”

  Sam rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the bed. He caught the faint hint of Cha-Cha’s perfume as the sheets bounced around him. The way his stomach tightened made him think he should at least entertain Walls’s stupid suggestion. “Like who?”

  “Gemma Lopez for one.”

  “Try again.”

  “What?!” Walls laughed.

  “She’s like twelve.”

  “She’s twenty-one.”

  “No. What else you got?”

  “Dru Anastasia.”

  Sam sat up. “Hmmm.”

  “S
ee?”

  “But nah,” Sam said, flopping back down again.

  “What’s wrong with her? She’s fine as hell. And she’s working working. Andromeda just got renewed. I love that show.”

  “I do too, but nah. She seems intense.” Sam had only run into the young starlet once, but he remembered a brief interaction between her and her mom. It wasn’t cute.

  “Tanica Parry.”

  Sam had to pause there. “What she say?” Tanica Parry was a gorgeous action star on the rise. She was in the running for a Charlie’s Angels reboot with Helene. And she was fine as fuck.

  “I thought you didn’t care.”

  “Listen. I just want to know the facts.”

  Walls snorted. “Are you going to call Tanica Parry?”

  That made Sam pause, ’cause he knew the answer. “No.”

  “You’re still thinking about ol’ girl from last night.”

  “I am.” Sam scrubbed a hand over his face again. “I can’t believe I didn’t get her name.”

  “If you want to get with her that badly, I’ll ask around.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ll ask Helene this week.”

  “Imma snoop around anyway. You know I like to snoop.”

  “I do.”

  “In the meantime, maybe we should reunite you with your Oscar.”

  “Oh shit. Yeah.”

  “See, I know you’re sprung on this girl. If I were you, I’d have taken that thing to bed with me. It wouldn’t have left my sight.”