by Sarah Smith
Once they reached her apartment, he unlocked the door with her key and they stepped inside. “Is your roommate home?”
“No, she’s gone.” Lindsay kicked off her shoes at the door, dropped her bag on a chair, and put her arms around his neck. “It’s just you and me.” She placed her lips on his, tilted her head, and gently pressed her tongue into his mouth, running it slowly over his lips as if she were tasting them.
Samwell put his hands on her waist, holding her to him as she feasted on his lips. She stepped closer, and he put his back against the door and spread his legs so she could lean against him more easily as they kissed. She snuggled in without breaking contact. Her hands clung to his neck, holding him so tightly he wondered if he’d be sore. He didn’t care.
Her hands slowly drifted to his chest, and she felt his heart beating wildly against her palm, matching the pace of hers. The movement of her hands as they slipped lower to caress his stomach, then back up to run over his chest again, was driving him mad. He scooped her up, causing a gasp to escape her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he walked to her bedroom, hoping he chose the correct door. Her lips ran along his neckline just above his collar, and he moved a little faster.
When he paused and looked between the two doors, she gestured with her hand to the one on the right. He pushed the door open with his foot and closed it the same way, jarring the silence in the apartment. He lowered her to her feet and ran his hands down her back, catching the zipper with his fingers and easing it down her back. She shrugged out of the dress and stood before him in a lacy black bra and matching panties, her pale skin shining in the moonlight that was sneaking in the window.
Mesmerized, he stared for a moment before he could find words. “You’re perfect. Statuesque.”
Lindsay smiled at him. “Thank you, Samwell.” She stepped forward and loosened his tie. When he put his hands out to rest on her hips, she wiggled away. “Let me undress you. Then we can touch.”
Samwell sucked in a breath as she took control, removing his tie and slowly unbuttoning his shirt until she could push it off his shoulders. She ran her hands over his naked chest, reveling in the beautiful array of muscles and the sprinkling of hair. Her eyes on his, she moved her hands to the button of his pants, undid them, and pushed them over his hips to pool at his feet on the floor. She stepped back, pulling him forward to step out of the pants.
“Samwell, make love to me.” Lindsay spoke the words quietly, reaching not just his ears, but his heart as well.
“Thank you for this, Lindsay.”
“For what?”
“For trusting me.” She smiled up at him, took his hand, and led him to the bed.
CHAPTER NINE
Lindsay had stayed late at school Friday afternoon to finish her lessons for the next week, so she wouldn’t have anything to do over the weekend. She wished she had her job at the Kingfish Club to go to. Her balance in her bank account was beginning to worry her. Samwell, so sweetly, had offered to help financially, using the excuse that it was his fault she was now without a job. She had refused; she would not accept money from her boyfriend. It just didn’t seem right.
For the last week, she had been perusing the Internet for jobs, but she hadn’t been lucky. With summer fast approaching, the college and high school kids would get all the part-time jobs. But she stayed positive, sure something would pop up if she persisted in her search. Right now, though, she refocused on her computer screen and finished up her lessons for the next week. She wanted to spend her weekend looking for a second job.
Instead of focusing, though, her mind drifted to Samwell. They had spent most of their evenings together this week. After their love making, he had sent her a lovely bouquet of flowers to school and had brought her lunch another day. She felt downright spoiled and didn’t mind it at all.
Lindsay had thought it was important to speak to her boss about Samwell and the paparazzi and such, but he had waved off her concerns, explaining that her private life was hers to live as long as it didn’t interfere with her teaching job. He had assured her that as long as she wasn’t in some sort of scandal, dating someone famous was not a breach of the morality clause in her contract. She’d been relieved that at least this job was secure.
Her phone pinged; she had a message from Samwell.
SAMWELL: Hey babe. Whatcha doing?
LINDSAY: Lesson plans. You?
SAMWELL: Can you get a moment free? I need to ask you something over the phone.
LINDSAY: Of course!
Her phone rang promptly. “Hello, Samwell.”
“Hi, sexy lady. Do I have news for you!” Samwell sounded so excited.
“What?” Lindsay said with a laugh.
“Well, I was chatting with Rose, Tim’s girlfriend. You remember her?”
“Yes.”
“She told me about another one of the wives who is looking for a freelance writer for her fashion boutique. I asked a few questions, and it sounds just like something you would be great at.”
Lindsay sat up when she heard the words freelance writer. She had always wanted to write for a living, but it’s hard to live on writing alone. She was also ecstatic that Samwell had remembered that tiny little detail from their date. “Oh my gosh, Samwell! Yes. Do you think she’d meet with me?”
“I’m sure she would. Rose can recommend you. I don’t really know her,” Samwell replied. He wouldn’t have done it anyway, as Lindsay would worry that the only reason the woman had agreed to see her was because he’d asked. “I’ll give you Rose’s number, and you can talk to her about it.”
“Yes, please! Thank you, Samwell!” Lindsay gushed as she pulled a pen and sticky note from her desk to jot down Rose’s number as Samwell recited it. “You think I can call now?”
Samwell chuckled. “I don’t see why not.”
“Okay! I’ll call right now!”
“Hold on! Do I get to see you tonight?” Samwell teased. “I found a band playing live at a little dive near the beach. You’ll love them.”
“I’m in. What time?” Lindsay asked, tapping her pen on her desk in anticipation of calling Rose.
Samwell could hear her impatience. He chuckled and said, “I’ll pick you up at seven. Bye.”
“Bye.” She ended the call and dialed Rose’s number, waiting for the rings to end and Rose’s voice to answer. “Hi, Rose. This is Lindsay.”
***
Rose had already spoken with Ava, who asked that Lindsay come to the boutique the next day at eleven. Lindsay’s excitement had been uncontainable, and she’d squealed into the earpiece. Now she had to find something fashionable to wear to the fashion boutique. Lindsay loved fashion and enjoyed flipping through fashion magazine and watching fashion shows, both live and on television. She was often bummed because she couldn’t afford the clothes. However, she even loved window shopping, so she would get over it quickly.
As she walked in to the boutique the next morning, she was giddy with excitement. She carried a file with writing samples inside, articles from her days on the college newspaper on about a dozen different subjects. She had nothing in the folder on fashion, but that hadn’t been her job then. She hoped the writing proved itself good enough to get her the job.
“Good morning. How may I help you?” A lovely woman with red hair had come forward to speak with her. The pink suit, so elegantly stylish and professional, was a direct contrast with her hair, but rather than being harsh, it created a unique look Lindsay liked. At only five feet tall, the woman looked like a fairy playing dress up in a human’s clothes.
“Hello. I’m Lindsay Rice. I’m here to meet with Ava,” Lindsay explained.
“Oh hello, Lindsay. I’m Ava,” the woman chimed, holding her hand out to be shaken. For such delicate hands, her handshake was firm, clearly stating she was in charge. “Please, join me in the back. We’ll have tea while we talk.”
As they walked to the back, Ava called out to an attendant to cover the store for a bit. She led Lind
say to an office where a lovely setting had already been spread. The teacups and teapot were as delicate as their owner, and the small cookies smelled delightfully delicious. Ava served the tea before beginning the interview.
“So, Rose didn’t say much about you other than the two of you are recent friends,” Ava began, sipping on her tea before continuing. “How long have you known her?”
“Not long at all. A week maybe,” Lindsay answered truthfully.
“I see. Well, you’ve made quite the impression on her in a short time. She gave you a glowing recommendation,” Ava said with a sincere smile. She gestured to the file in Lindsay’s lap. “Is that your portfolio?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Lindsay handed it to her, explaining, “I wrote all of these while in college. I worked for the school newspaper.”
Ava nodded as she opened the file. “Have a cookie while I scan these.” She smiled as she began to read.
Lindsay sat across from her, nibbling on a cookie, her nerves on fire. Ava was mostly expressionless as she read, though occasionally she murmured quietly to herself in a voice so low Lindsay could not hear her. After five minutes of silence, Ava looked up.
“Your writing is above par. Excellent, actually,” Ava said. “But I see nothing on fashion here.”
“I did not have the opportunity to write about fashion for the college paper, but I love fashion. I often spend my free time with my head buried in fashion magazines or watching fashion shows. It’s fun for me.” The women continued their conversation, discussing fashion. Ava asked several pointed questions about specific fashion items, which Lindsay answered knowledgably and with opinions similar to Ava’s. They discovered they had much in common, not only in their opinions on fashion, but on designers as well.
As the conversation came to a natural end, Ava nodded, pursed her lips, and sat forward. “I have an idea. Your writing speaks for itself, even if you have nothing about fashion in your portfolio. After speaking to you at length, I can tell two things. One, you have the knowledge required to write good pieces for my website. And two, you and I will get along fabulously.”
“I agree, Ava. We have so much in common that I feel as if I’ve been chatting with a friend this afternoon,” Lindsay said with a laugh.
With a twinkle in her eye, Ava said, “How about I hire you on a trial basis? You will write three articles for me. I’ll give you topics and details about what I expect. I’ll pay you for those three, of course, and if we’re both in agreement after the third article, we’ll negotiate a more permanent contract.”
Lindsay smiled and gushed, “I am more than amenable to that idea! Thank you so much for giving me this opportunity!”
“You’re a teacher, correct? So you aren’t available during regular business hours?” Ava asked.
“I am a teacher. Once summer break starts, I will be available, but until then, it’s evenings and weekends only. Don’t worry, though. I’ll never miss a deadline.”
Ava nodded as she bit into a cookie, waving away her statement. “I can work around your schedule, and most of my deadlines are pretty flexible. Many of the shows I attend and throw are during the evening hours, so you would be able to attend almost everything with me.” She frowned as she finished her cookie. “This cookie has made me realize how hungry I am. What about you? Have you eaten?”
Lindsay laughed, her hand on her stomach. “My stomach has been in knots, but now that I have the job, it has loosened. So yes, I’m hungry.”
“Let’s go to lunch then,” Ava said, rising from her chair gracefully. Conspiratorially she whispered, “I’ll offer to bring Monica back something, so she won’t be fussy about having to wait for us to get back.”
Lindsay smiled. “May I make a quick phone call?”
“Of course. I’ll meet you out front in a moment. There’s a fabulous café just down the block.” Ava waved her off as she stopped to speak to Monica.
Lindsay hurried outside to call Samwell. As soon as he picked up, she screeched, “I got the job!”
“Oh babe, that’s great!” Samwell replied after putting the phone back against his ear. “We should celebrate!”
“It’s on a temporary trial basis, but she’s asked me to go to lunch with her, so I think she likes me.”
“Of course she likes you! You’re amazing! I’m so happy for you.”
“Me too!”
Lindsay’s enthusiasm was catching, and a big smile spread over Samwell’s face. “Why don’t you come over to my place after your lunch, and we’ll spend the rest of the day celebrating,” Samwell offered.
“Sounds great! I’ll see you then,” Lindsay gushed just as Ava stepped outside. Lindsay ended the call and smiled at Ava. “My boyfriend. I promised to call when I knew something.”
Ava smiled. “I understand. You’re dating a football player too, aren’t you?” Ava gestured the direction in which they needed to walk, and they began walking side by side, chatting.
Lindsay nodded, walking carefully in her heels on the uneven sidewalk. “Samwell Graffton.”
“I had a feeling you did. He’s a nice guy. I’ve only met him once, though. Anyway, that’s why Rose knows you.” At Lindsay’s questioning look, she explained, “Most of us WAGs are friends with other WAGs, and really have few other friends. It’s easier that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, a lot of women are jealous because of who we’re with. And I’ve had women try to be friends with me just because of who I’m married to so she could come to parties.” Ava shook her head. “It’s sad really, how many groupies there are who are just dying to bag a player.”
“Is it really that bad?” Lindsay asked, concerned
Ava waved her hand. “It can be, especially with a man like Samwell. Good looking, talented, wealthy, and kind.” She ticked off his attributes on her fingers. “It’s hard to find a man with all of those qualities. He’s been bombarded by women his whole career.”
“Really? He never mentioned that,” Lindsay grumbled somewhat playfully, somewhat seriously.
“He turned them all away, honey,” Ava assured her. “I mean, I’m sure he’s had his fun. What man wouldn’t? But not one of those gals has been to more than one event with him, nor on more than one date.”
“I guess that’s comforting,” Lindsay said. “I’m not stupid. I know he’s dated, just like I have, but I had no idea women threw themselves at him.”
Ava patted her hand to reassure her. “If he’s chosen you, Lindsay, there’s something special about you. He’ll stick by you if he thinks you’re worth it, and obviously, he does.”
Lindsay smiled at her as Ava opened the door to the café and walked in. Some of the information Ava had shared had scared her to death. She couldn’t compete with groupies whose only goal in life was to find a pro athlete to marry. But she’d also heard the last part, which eased her apprehension some. Samwell did care for her; she could see it in his eyes. And she reciprocated one hundred percent. Trust was a part of those feelings, and she trusted Samwell implicitly.
***
After lunch, Lindsay walked Ava back to the boutique, making arrangements to be there Monday evening after school for her first assignment. She had switched her phone to silence, so when she climbed in her car, she checked it and turned the sound back on. She’d missed a test from Samwell.
SAMWELL: Hey babe. I have a few errands to run. I left the backdoor open so you can just walk on in and make yourself at home. I’ll be back by two.
Lindsay checked the time: 1:30. She would only be there for a twenty minutes or so before he got home, so she pulled out and headed his direction.
LINDSAY: Sounds good. I’m heading that way now. See you soon.
SAMWELL: Ok, babe. I have a surprise for you.
LINDSAY: I love surprises!
SAMWELL: It’s the beginning of our celebration.
LINDSAY: Can’t wait!
SAMWELL: See you in a bit.
CHAPTER TEN
Li
ndsay had only visited Samwell’s house once. They’d had a lovely dinner that he had cooked himself, and she had fallen in love with it. Samwell had grilled steaks and shrimp, and they had shared their meal in the backyard, which was beautifully manicured and looked like something out of a magazine with its pool surrounded by greenery, its backyard bar and grill, and the perfect patio furniture to bring it all together. The inside, of course, was beautiful, but it was the outside Lindsay loved. She hoped to spend a lot of her time there this summer, cozying up to him in her bikini and enjoying good food and fun.
She rolled her eyes at herself. Don’t jump ahead, missy! she admonished herself in her mind. But she was pretty sure her prediction would come true. With a smile, she planned to be stretched out in his backyard after making them both a drink to wait for Samwell to come home. The perfect beginning of a celebration.
When she pulled into his driveway, she saw an unfamiliar car parked in front of the garage. She wondered if maybe she should come back but decided against it. She climbed out of her car and walked to the gate, opened it, and walked through to the backdoor, which, as Samwell had promised, was open. She stepped inside and cocked her head to listen for any noises. Maybe it’s the maid, she thought.
Samwell’s cat, a huge Maine Coon named Linus, snagged her attention with a meow that was as loud as a horn. She greeted the cat and loved on him, talking nonsense as he purred like a chainsaw under her loving hand. She tickled his chin, which he apparently didn’t like, because he scampered off in a huff. Lindsay rolled her eyes and headed for the kitchen.
As she was about to step into the kitchen, she heard a noise upstairs. She frowned and debated leaving again. What if there was a robber? But then she heard music. A thief wouldn’t turn on music. Lindsay climbed the stairs slowly, listening for doors opening, ready to spring back down the stairs should someone she didn’t know appear. At the top of the stairs she paused, listening. A woman’s voice had begun to sing along with the radio, a high pitched voice that couldn’t carry a tune.
