Determined (Determined Trilogy Book 1) (18 page)

“I’m little.”

“But you know that throwing clay at someone is wrong, right?”

“Maybe.”

I sighed as I moistened a washcloth and wiped the clay off Victor’s face. He had calmed down.

“Ariana, what are you going to do next time someone tries to mess with your stuff?”

She looked like she genuinely didn’t know. I wanted to laugh, but I kept a straight face, and crouched down on my knee.

“How about you ask your teacher for help?”

“Okay,” she said softly.

“Okay, good. Now, back to work you two.” They both scampered back to the table and resumed their art-making.

I resumed my conversation with Linda, but this time, we both kept our eyes on the table.

“So, how is everything at the gallery, Sam?”

“Oh, good. You know. Same old. We had a show open the Thursday before last, and it went really well.”

“You know, one of these days, I’m going to convince you to quit that job and come work here.”

Linda and Wing had made that joke ever since I started at the gallery. But the center was always just scraping by. As much as I’d love it, they could barely afford to pay themselves, let alone another staff person.

“Oh, you know what, that reminds me. Guess where I’m going this weekend?” I said, with a glimmer in my eye.

“Where?”

“Miami.”

“Miami? What’s in Miami?”

“Art Basel. It’s a big contemporary art fair. I met another gallery owner, and he offered to show me the ropes.”

“Wow, that sounds like a great opportunity Sam. Just don’t go moving off to New York or something.”

“Don’t be silly. You know I love the Bay Area,” I said, lying through my teeth. I had always told myself that I had to be ready and willing to move should an opportunity open up. I thought it was an important part of being able to move up in the world. I didn’t ever want to feel trapped and unable to pursue my dreams. No one was more surprised than I that I had stayed in the Bay Area for a part time job. But until that opportunity came, I was content.

~

At seven, we locked the doors of the center, and I said goodbye to Linda and Wing. As I turned around and walked down the sidewalk to the waiting SUV, I felt their eyes on me. I knew I’d have to answer another battery of questions next time I saw them. But that could wait. For now, I climbed into the car, and Thomas whisked me across town to meet Carrie for dinner.

Carrie and I had planned to meet at a Thai restaurant on College Avenue. It was our spot. We had spent many a night there during college, gossiping with friends over spring rolls and Pad Thai. Even after most of our college friends had left the area, we continued to frequent it as a twosome.

“Thomas, can I get you something to go?” I asked, leaning forward in my seat.

“No, Miss, that is quite all right. I will be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Miss. Enjoy your dinner.”

I acquiesced. “Okay, I’ll see you in an hour or so.”

“Yes, Miss.”

I opened the car door and crossed the sidewalk outside the restaurant. Pushing open the glass door to the restaurant, the bells chimed gently, announcing my arrival. The restaurant was dimly lit by little multi-hued Christmas lights that rimmed the room. The restaurant was pretty full for a weekday, a testament to the excellent food, no doubt. A slim Asian woman looked up from the hostess stand and recognized me almost immediately.

“Hey Sam, two for dinner?”

“You know it.”

She led me to our favorite seat, a table that looked out onto College Avenue from the front windows.

“Menus?”

“Nah,” I said with a smile. Carrie and I had practically memorized the menu.

“I’ll be right back with some tea and water.”

“Thanks, Dara.”

She disappeared into the back, and I pulled out my phone. There was a message from Carrie.

Running late. Be there in ten.

I checked the time on her message and then the time on my phone. That meant she would be there in about—

The front door jangled, and Carrie burst through the door. She did a quick scan of the room and gave me a little wave when she spotted me.

She settled into our table with an apologetic grin, just as Dara was delivering the tea and water.

“Hey, Carrie.”

“Hey, Dara. How are you?”

“Good, good. What can I get for you guys?” she asked, pulling out her notepad.

Carrie and I exchanged glances. She gestured at me to order.

“Spring rolls, green papaya salad, and Panang curry with brown rice, please.”

“Chicken not beef, right?” she confirmed, as she scribbled down our order.

“Yep.”

“You got it. Thanks guys.” She stuck the pen behind her ear and headed back to the kitchen.

I turned to Carrie, but before I could say anything, she started.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. My car wouldn’t start. I had to leave it in the lot at work. I ended up taking a bus, but I forgot how much longer that takes.”

“No worries. I just got here, anyway. Sorry about your car—what’s wrong with it?” Carrie’s old Volvo had served us well through college, but we both knew it was only a matter of time until it was time for it to retire.

“I don’t know. It started making a whirling sound yesterday and then today it just wouldn’t even start.”

“Yikes.”

“I know. I’m really not in the mood to dip into ‘le vacation fund,’ but I might have to.”

‘Le vacation fund,’ was Carrie’s name for her Paris savings account. We both had one. The plan was for each of us to save up enough money to spend a few weeks there. We had both missed the chance to study abroad when we were undergrads, so putting a few dollars each month toward ‘le vacation fund’ was how we were going to rectify that mistake. The plan was to stay in hostels, eat street food, and spend the days wandering the city and flirting with French men. At the rate we were both saving, it would take us forty years to get there, but hey, it was a wonderful dream.

“I feel like I should contribute, since you are always driving me around,” I offered. I had a little more money in my account than usual, since David had been covering most of my meals and transportation costs.

“No, no. Don’t be silly. I don’t even know what’s wrong with it yet.”

“So how was work?”

“Good. Bad. Horrible. The usual.” Carrie was a social worker at a free clinic in Berkeley. It was a rough gig. She had majored in sociology and had wanted to change the world. But reality had set in, and lately she’d been realizing that paperwork and red tape were a required part of the job.

“You’re doing good work, Carrie. Important work.”

“I know, that’s what’s so hard. I mean, you just see these people come through, and sometimes they are at just the lowest point of their life. And then I have to give them a form. A form. Can you imagine going through something horrific and painful, and then having to deal with bureaucracy on top of it?” As she spoke she grew more and more agitated.

Thankfully, Dara came by and put the springs rolls and salad on the table. We took turns spooning the food onto our plates. I used the break in conversation to announce my big news.

“So, I met David’s family on Sunday.”

Carrie stopped mid-bite with her spring roll. She looked shocked.

“It was Jenna’s birthday, I explained.” Carrie swallowed and took a sip of water.

“You met his family already? Sam, that is like, major.”

“I know.” I picked at my salad.

“So, what were they like?”

“Really nice, actually. I don’t know what I was expecting. They were really laid back, well, except for Jenna his sister.”

“The one who spilled on you, right?”

I blushed, remembering my conversation with David after the party. I wasn’t about to tell Carrie that my new boyfriend was the actual culprit. “Um. Yeah. She’s a ball of energy.”

Carrie took a big forkful of salad. “So, any hot brothers for me?”

“He has one brother, but David is adopted.”

“Adopted? Really? Did you know that?”

“Yeah, he told me a while ago,” I paused, debating how much to share about his upbringing. “He’s actually from Louisiana. His mom died when he was young, and the Keith’s adopted him out there before moving to the bay area.”

“Oh, good thing. Otherwise he might already be married with kids.”

“
Carrie.
”

“Hey, hey, calm down. I’m just kidding. Half my family is from Kentucky, remember?”

I shook my head at her, amused. She could be so inappropriate sometimes.

Dara brought our curry. The steaming bowl of peanut flavored sauce smelled amazing. I spooned some rice onto my plate and then handed the container to Carrie.

“So where is Moneybags tonight?”

“He’s flying out to Tokyo. Something about having to be at that office for a meeting. He’s coming back on Friday, and I’m meeting him in Miami.”

“I’m gonna get you some new business cards—Sam Sharp, Jetsetter.”

“I’m not the one flying to Tokyo,” I explained.

“But you’re going to Miami, and your boyfriend is
flying in from Tokyo
to meet you.” She gesticulated widely for emphasis, almost knocking over her water glass.

“Okay, okay, I get what you mean. It’s weird for me, too, but it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“So what are you going to do while you are there, anyway?”

“Not totally sure. Evan said he would show me the ropes. I think there are a few evening events we are going to attend, and then during the day the entire city is basically transformed into gallery space. I guess I’ll just follow Evan’s lead and soak up as much as I can.”

“Is this Evan guy quality stuff?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do I have to worry about you while you are gone. Is he creepy? Does he drive a big van with no windows? Does he have a moustache?”

I laughed. “No Sam. He actually seems way more normal than most of the people in the art world. I’ll be fine. Besides, Thomas is coming with me.”

“You have security now?” Carrie’s jaw dropped. “Is he here now?” She pretended to crane her head around the restaurant. “Can he give me a ride home?”

I chuckled. “Yes, we can give you a ride, but no, I do not have security now.” I lied not wanting her to think poorly of David. “Not normally. It’s just being away for so—”

“David wanted to keep an eye on you?”

“Not exactly.”

Carrie did not look convinced.

“It just comes with the territory. Besides, Thomas is nice enough. It will be fine.”

“Okay. But you have to call me if you get into trouble. One text, and I’ll be on the next flight, okay?”

“Thanks Carrie.” I was humbled by her offer, however outlandish.

She put her fork down and looked at me sternly. “You’re my gal, Sam. We look out for each other.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.” She grinned.

“So,” I said, changing the subject, “How is Derek?”

“Oh, he’s good.” Carrie squirmed in her seat and started blushing.

“He must be very good if he’s eliciting that reaction,” I teased.

“You know, he is on a full-ride for his graduate work—did I tell you that? He is so smart, Sam. We just stay up late talking about human behavior, and it’s ...” she paused as she searched for the right word, “inspiring, you now?”

“Mmmhmm,” I said, my mouth full of curry.

“It makes me wonder if I’m in the right line of work, you know? Like, I used to feel that way when I was in undergrad, but now, it’s like that passion, that zest; it’s just missing or something.”

Leave it to Carrie to perfectly articulate what I’d been feeling but couldn’t define. I swallowed.

“I think I know what you mean. I’ve been feeling a little like that at work lately, too.”

Carrie sat back in her seat. “I mean, it’s not like I’m going to get up and quit tomorrow, but being with him, it just reminds me of what’s possible, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“I just want a life full of passion.”

And I realized that that was what I had with David.

14

The flight into Miami was rough. We hit a lot of turbulence somewhere over the Midwest. Lucinda told me not to worry, but I hated being up in the air without David to keep me calm. When we finally landed, I was surprised to find Miami a sunny, 75 degrees.

Thomas drove us from the airport in a rented SUV. Downtown Miami was a beautiful place. Palm trees and bright colors were everywhere. We pulled up to the Setai and got out. The hotel managed to be both opulent, yet understated. The lobby was lush with greenery and vibrating with beautiful people. I looked around for the check-in desk. A woman in a linen sheath dress with the Setai logo appeared at my side.

“Hello, Mrs. Keith.” I jumped. “Welcome to the Setai. My name is Danielle. May I show you to your room?”

Did the rich just get used to this? Random people just sneaking up on them?

“Uh, yes, thank you.” A bellman came up and took my bag. Thomas followed as we cut through the lobby to the elevator.

As the elevator rose, Danielle continued.

“I’m very glad you chose to stay with us this weekend, Mrs. Keith. I do hope you enjoy the suite.” I smiled at the misnomer, and glanced at Thomas. I was sure he noticed, but he didn’t let on or correct her either. Once we reached our floor, the doors parted, and we exited into a light-filled penthouse at the top of the hotel.

“Ten-thousand square feet spanning the entire top floor of the hotel.” She led us through the suite. “Four bedrooms, private rooftop pool, fully-equipped kitchen, and private dining room. And of course, complimentary chef, butler, and valet service are available to address any needs that may come up during your stay.” She handed me a small cell phone, with only one button. “If you require their services, please don’t hesitate to call.”

I was overwhelmed. This “suite” was
insane
.

Danielle disappeared back into the elevator. Thomas turned to me.

“If you don’t mind, miss, I am going to do a quick security sweep. Could you please have a seat?” he gestured toward a sunken sectional that overlooked the ocean.

I was about to protest, but it looked so comfortable, I decided to oblige.