Determined (Determined Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

Thank you for the pleasure of your company last night
.

What a gentleman.

I am looking forward to an encore on Monday night.

Thomas and I will pick you up from the gallery at five o’clock sharp.

Be ready.

Crap. He was not going to like it when I tell him I can’t see him for a whole week. I braced myself and texted back.

I am so sorry, but I forgot I have to go to Tahoe with my family this week.

We leave Monday night.

Please don’t hate me.

I waited for a reply. Nothing. I hoped he was on the other end, furrowing his brow, trying to figure out his next move. Still nothing. Maybe he was already on the plane to New York. I tried to calculate the time difference and gave up.

I pressed a few buttons on the screen. I heard the phone ring. A woman picked up.

“Hi Sammie!”

“Hey, Mom.” I was so relieved to hear her voice; a tear launched itself down my cheek. Maybe I wasn’t the worldly woman I had been pretending to be over the last few days. Maybe I couldn’t handle this brand of romance. I couldn’t confess everything to her, but it was good just to hear her voice. And I was grateful for the physical mask the telephone provided.

“Sam, I’m glad you called. Could you bring an extra baking sheet tomorrow? I was thinking it might be fun to have a cookie baking marathon, like in the old days. What do you think?”

“That would be great, Mom. Sounds fun.” I just wanted to reach out and have her hug me. My mom was the best hugger in the whole world. I couldn’t wait to see her and my dad tomorrow.

“Are we still on track to pick you up at the BART station?”

“I’ll be on the 5:45 train.”

“Perfect. We’ll save room for your suitcase. What else is going on honey, any new boyfriends?” She
always
asked this. Normally I would groan and tell her to stop, but this time I was grateful.

“Well, actually, I have been seeing this one guy.”

“Oh yeah?” She tried to play it cool, but I could practically hear her eyes light up over the phone. My mom had always been a little boy-crazy. “What’s his name?”

“David Keith.” I wondered if she would recognize it.

“That’s a nice name. Don’t think I know any Keiths,” she said, referring of course to the populace of the small town I grew up in, which was also coincidently her reference point for the entire universe. “So, how’d you meet? What’s he like?”

“We met at a show opening,” I offered, selectively withholding the story about the wine. I didn’t think my mother would appreciate the symbolism of a white dress ruined with red wine. “He’s sweet. He took me to the symphony the other night.”

“Oh that’s very nice, dear. I’d like to go to the symphony sometime.” I could tell she was jabbing my dad as she said it. I heard him call out.

“I’ll take you to the symphony any time you want dear, as soon as you go snowboarding with me.”

My parents might have a cabin in Lake Tahoe, but my mother had always been adamantly opposed to skiing and snowboarding, instead preferring to tend to the shopping, cooking, and homemaking while my sister and I joined him on the slopes.

“Sorry, dear.” She came back to me. “He sounds lovely. We should all get together for dinner sometime.”

“Mmm. Yeah.” I murmured into the phone. “Anyway, I was calling to see if there was anything else you needed me to bring tomorrow.”

“I don’t think so honey, the sheet is it. I think we’ve got everything else all set.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow then?”

“5:45 at the BART station.”

“Ok, see you then. Bye, Mom”

“Bye Sammie.” I felt a little better. I checked my phone. Still no text back from David.

I decided to go for a run and work off some of this excess worry. I stripped down and threw on my black running tights and a white Cal sweatshirt. I pulled my wild hair back into a high ponytail and located my running shoes under my bed. I headed out the door, grabbing my keys, phone, and some ear buds along the way.

Out in the yard, I noticed Clark and Leslie were gone, and once I hit the sidewalk I broke into a brisk walk. I thumbed through my phone, looking for some good running music.

At the end of the block I started jogging just as a pop song started blasting in my ears. I ran hard. I kept mostly to the residential streets because they didn’t have traffic lights to obey. Cutting through a shopping center, my endorphins started to flow, so I headed up toward the cemetery. I loved running in the cemetery. It was peaceful and beautiful. There was also a big hill, and I charged up it, the beat of music pushing me on. At the top I stopped, and bent over to catch my breath. I looked out, the hill providing a clear view of San Francisco. The days were much shorter now, and the sun was already starting to dip behind the city.

The fog enveloped the city, and I stared into it, painfully aware that David was not there. I wondered what he was doing at that moment Was he thinking about me? I tried to put the thought out of my head. I didn’t want to be at the mercy of this man, not yet. It was a delicate balance. But my body craved him. That much I knew and couldn’t deny.

I stayed there, resting, until the sun slipped below the horizon, and then I picked myself up off the ground and jogged back home, stopping at Market Hall to grab a bottle of wine.

As soon as I got in, my phone buzzed. I put the bottle of wine on the counter. It was David calling. My stomach turned with excitement.

“Hey.” How
does
one greet their lover properly?

“My apologies, Samantha, I was in the air. I just got your text. Where are you?”

“It’s okay. I just got back from a run.”

“A run? Were you safe? It’s after dark over there.” I could practically see his brow furrow over the phone.

“Yes, I was safe. I
have
managed to make it to twenty-four years of age without any major incidents.”

“Samantha, was your text serious or a joke? Are you really going away Monday night?” Oops, back to business.

“It was serious. I can’t believe I forgot. We go up to Lake Tahoe every year for Thanksgiving. It’s kind of a tradition.”

The line was silent for what felt like a long time.

“Samantha, I am already going more than twenty-four hours without seeing you today. I don’t think I can make it a whole week.” I could feel his intense gaze through the phone.

“It’s not a week. It’s five days ...” I trailed off. Was he really going to break it off with me just because he couldn’t wait five days? I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do about it. I braced myself for rejection.

“What if I came with you?”

Huh? Did he realize what he was proposing? Not just a vacation together, and not just a dinner with my parents, but an intensive, full-on family inquisition lasting multiple days. I wasn’t expecting that.

“Um, it’s up to you,” I said gently. And really, it was. There would be plenty of room, thank God, because my parents would insist he sleep in a separate room. But I knew my mom and dad would be fine with it. Last year my dad brought his old college roommates to Thanksgiving. They’ve always been ‘the more the merrier’ types. But ... did I want him to come?

“Do you want me to come?”

Fucking mind reader. Well, yes. I did. I could feel it all over my body. I could barely tolerate being without him for a few hours, let alone a few days. I could put up with a little family inquisition if it meant keeping him nearby.

“Yes.”

“How are you getting up there?”

“My dad usually drives. They were going to pick me up at BART.”

“Nonsense. We’ll take the jet.”

Jet?
Of course he has a jet.

“I get in tomorrow night at six. I can have Thomas pick you up from work and meet us at the airport.”

Um, okay.
I could just imagine all the crap my family was going to give me for this extravagance.

“Samantha? Are you there?”

“Sorry, yes, that sounds great.”

“Samantha,” Fuck, just the way he said my name made my blood run hot.

“Yes?” I could feel the electricity crackle through the phone.

“I miss you.”

Whoa. I was surprised at the tender statement.

“I miss you, too.” I wanted to confess that my whole body was yearning, aching for him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Ms. Sharp.” I could tell he was smiling over the phone.

“Have a safe trip back.”

“Always, baby.”

~

It was 6:30, so I headed over to the main house. It was dark by now, and the house glowed. I could smell the coq au vin. I stepped up on the back deck and knocked gently on the back door. Leslie came over and let me in.

“Hey Sammie. Thanks for coming.”

“Thanks for having me. This is for you,” I said, handing the bottle of wine over the threshold.

“Pinot Noir. Delicious,” she said, admiring the label. “Thank you, Sammie dear.” Leslie turned and headed down the short hall toward the kitchen. It was full of early 1900’s character, complete with warm woods and a vintage stove. “Clark, look what Sammie brought,” she said, showing him the bottle.

“Thank you, Sammie” He was distracted, sampling something from an enamel pot on the stove with a wooden spoon. He put the spoon down and wiggled his white mustache.

“Oh, Sammie, I forgot to tell you. There was a moving van across the street today. I invited the new neighbor to join us tonight.”

One half of the duplex across the street had had a for rent sign in the window for a while. I was glad to hear someone had finally moved in.

“That’s great. A couple?”

“Just a single man. He seems sweet.”

“Cool. It smells amazing in here, by the way.” Clark and Leslie sure enjoyed the finer things in life. I was lucky to be at the receiving end.

“So how is the gallery, Sammie?” Leslie asked as she opened the wine. She pulled a couple of jelly jars out of a cabinet and filled them halfway. “Didn’t you have an opening last week?”

“Oh, yes. The opening went really well. Almost everything sold. Curtis is really happy.”

“That’s fantastic! Hey, will you help me put the silverware on the table?”

“Of course.”

I was putting the final touches on the table when the doorbell rang. Leslie tended to the door while I lit the candles. I was blowing out a match when I heard footsteps come up behind me.

“Sam, this is Greg, our new neighbor.”

Greg was more attractive than I expected. He had a young face, but dark salt and pepper hair. He was carrying a white box in his hands.

“Hi, Greg. Nice to meet you.” I reached out my hand, and he shuffled his box to free up his right hand to meet mine.

“Good to meet you, Sam.”

“Greg, I think I told you, Sam lives around back in the cottage.”

I smiled. I always thought it was cute how Leslie referred to the tiny studio as ‘the cottage.’

“I sure do. How are you enjoying the neighborhood, Greg?”

“Oh, day one has been great. Everyone has been so friendly and welcoming. Present company included.” He handed the white box to Leslie “I almost forgot. This is for you. It’s a pear tart. I got it from the bakery down the street.”

Leslie peeked inside the box. “It looks lovely, thank you, Greg. That was very thoughtful.”

Clark appeared in the doorway with the enamel pot. “Ladies and gentleman, dinner is served.”

We gathered around the dining table as Clark dished up the fragrant coq au vin. The table murmured in appreciation as we tasted his creation.

“Clark, this is amazing.”

“Sam, has Clark ever told you how he learned to cook?”

I thought for a moment, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Clark, do you want to tell it, or should I?” Leslie’s eyes sparkled.

“Go ahead, dear.”

“So, you know Clark and I both met while we were in law school, right?”

“Yes, at Yale.”

“That’s right, Sam. Well, we had just started dating, and I thought maybe he didn’t like me, because whenever I’d try to see him, he had an excuse.” She smiled at him. “It was always, ‘Oh I’ve got chess club’ or ‘Oh I have a rugby game’.” I thought he was the busiest man on the planet. I couldn’t figure out how he was keeping up with his studies with all these extracurricular activities. Lord knew I was barely keeping up myself.”

I looked over at Clark, and he was sitting there, smiling at her. It was obvious he was still entirely smitten with her. It was sweet.

Leslie continued. “So one day, I was ready to break it off with him, but something told me to go down to the field. Clark was supposed to be at Rugby practice that night. So I climbed onto the bleachers and watched, looking for him. But he wasn’t there. So I marched back to his dorm and planted myself outside until he came back. Finally, after two hours of waiting in the cold, he showed up in chef whites, smelling like garlic. It turned out he had been working as a line cook at a restaurant in town. He’d been working that job as a way of paying his way through school, but he’d been too ashamed to admit it.”

“Now, you have to understand, Leslie was from a very well-to-do family,” Clark explained.

“Which was nonsense. I knew then and there that he was the one for me. Any man who wasn’t above working hard for a living was the man for me.” She took Clark’s hand. “Plus, he started to bring home food for me, and I got to avoid the dorm food.”

“I always thought it was funny that she believed I had a body for rugby,” Clark muttered, and the entire table laughed. Clark was a tall, slim man, and none of us could imagine him holding up on a rugby field.

“Did you play any sports, Greg?” Leslie said, angling the conversation back to our dinner guest.

“Oh, not really. I played basketball in high school, but I was never much of an athlete. I was a marketing and communications major.”

“Are you in marketing now?” I asked.

“Yes, in a way. I’m in sales for a pharmaceutical company.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“For the most part, yes. It allows me to travel. I moved to California so I could take over the western region for my company. Next week I’ll be up in Washington, and then in Arizona after the holidays.”