#LUCKY (The Empire Series Book 2) (4 page)

"I'd say you have a right to boast," Sam laughed as she rested her head to the side to glance into his eyes.

Declan chuckled as he turned to face her, "I knew you would be fun, but, that...that was brilliant, A stór."

"I've never been fucked like that before. Ever," she moaned.

"Then you haven't been fucked properly," he chuckled.

"I think you are unquestionably right. I'm going to freshen up a little, make yourself at home."

"Oh really? I kinda like the way I smell on you. Gets me hard just thinking about it again."

"You really are Trouble, you know that?" she pealed herself away from the damp sheets as she shamelessly strutted to the bathroom.

Closing the bathroom door, she took a washcloth, running it across her sweaty body. Checking her disheveled hair in the mirror, she ran a comb through the tangles. While she was fixing her makeup, she heard a faint ringing sound coming from the bedroom. Declan's voice was at a whisper, but she could only make out a couple words.

"Shit, sorry...I forgot we were meeting up tonight...no, I'll be there. I got a little tied up...I'll be there Ashley, I promise."

Sam's heart began to sink as she thought about everything that had happened tonight. Had she been so naive to think this man was just playing her this whole time? He sounded like he had a new girlfriend all right and her name was Ashley.

A slight knock came from the door. "Hey, Sam, I gotta head out. I need to be somewhere."

Without questioning him further, she peeked her head out the crack of the door. "Yeah, sure, no problem. I need to get some sleep anyway."

"You are a total doll. I had a lot of fun," he stated, kissing her lightly on the lips as he flew out the door before she could say goodbye.

W
hat the fuck
just happened here?

"
S
am
, get your ass in here," Vivienne yelled from her office as usual.

"Right here, Viv. Whatcha need?" Sam leaned on the doorframe, peering into her boss' office.

"I need you to go over to Beckley today. I have a girl who’s an up-and-coming designer, and I want to nab her first for an interview. She's worked with a fair amount of designers, but she just signed a contract to co-design a line with Isaac Mizrahi. She's said to be the next big thing, which is why I need boots on the ground."

"I can certainly tackle that." Sam was elated that she was going to finally get a ground-breaking story from the fashion world. It didn't hurt that a mysterious professor would be in the same vicinity as well.

"Excellent. And I want details, Sam. Not that fluff you did last month about how penny loafers are coming back in," Viv reprimanded.

Sam happened to love penny loafers. It was a low blow if you asked her.

"I'll email you the details shortly. Now go," Vivienne flicked her wrist, dismissing Sam.

Leaving Vivienne's office, Sam felt lightheaded at the thought of seeing Declan again - he had left on such awkward terms a couple weeks ago. She hadn't seen, or heard from him since the night at O’Mallorey’s. Perhaps the episode with Cory was too much drama for his taste. That, or it had to do with the allusive
Ashley
character. She didn't guilt Declan either. Who would want to get involved with a girl with drama?

Making her way to her office, she was blocked by her intern Quinn.

"Hey Sam, everything okay in there?" Quinn eyed her with concern.

"Peachy keen, jelly bean. We have a lead on a story out of Beckley. Feel like going on a little field trip?"

"The college guys are already calling my name," she quipped.

    "Work. Then play. Deal?" Sam eyed her with a giant smile on her face.

    "Of course. I would like to be more than an intern someday; gotta play by the rules."

    Quinn was a sweet girl. She was brand spankin' new and fresh out of college. She was naive to the magazine world, but Sam continuously tried to use her to fill the void Maggie had left. Quinn had everything that Maggie lacked; morals, values, intelligence, and character. She was still sick to her stomach to know Maggie would sleep with her boyfriend.

    Maggie had always been the wild card out of the three girls. Bridget was the reasonable one. Devoted girlfriend, impeccable work ethic, and fiercely independent. She was self-reliant, even if Kevin wanted to think otherwise.

    Sam was the dependable one. She was a stickler for commitment in every situation. Loyal to work, friends, family, and even her relationships. She was elated when her sisters wanted to relocate to San Francisco with her. Although she had Ariel, she still wanted, and needed, a piece of home with her. Never did she imagine how horrible that idea would be.

    Maggie, on the other hand, was the baby of the three - the "Oopsy" of the bunch. It was no secret, but she liked to use it as justification to seclude her black sheep self. She loved her little sister, but her theatrics for the extreme had hit an all time high with this little stunt. Furthermore, the fact that she still had not made contact with Sam only reinforced the fact that Maggie was completely unhinged.

    Sam had started the see the changes in Maggie as soon as they moved to San Fran. The changes were subtle, at first, like, going out and getting drunk several nights a week. However, they slowly progressed to a nightly occurrence. Some nights she never returned home, leaving Sam in a tizzy half the time. Sam just hoped that this incident would light a spark under her ass to get her stuff together.

    "You have a good head on your shoulders, Quinn."

    "I try. When are we going?" Quinn asked.

 "As soon as I get the particulars from Vivienne," Sam spoke up as an email alert went off on her phone. "Speaking of which, time to go! Oh, and can we drive your car?"

    "No problemo, Ms. Daisy."

    Sam chuckled at Quinn's attempt to be sarcastic. Although the joke came across a little corny, Sam still had a soft spot for the girl.

C
limbing
into Quinn's vintage mustang, the two were ready to make the most out of their escapade to Beckley.

    "Nice fucking car," Sam exclaimed as she ran her hand across the refurbished leather.

    "Thank you! It was my father's. I idealized him as a child. He spent seven years restoring this baby."

    Sam could make out an undertone of sorrow in her voice, but didn't want to press the issue for fear of displeasing Quinn.

    "Well, it's beautiful. I would love to have a Betty like this to call my own."

    "Why
don't
you have a car...if you don't mind me asking?"

    "Never felt the need to get one. Everyone I knew had one, so why hassle?"

    "Valid point, but what if you need to get somewhere important? I'm not sure Ariel would be too pleased to pick you up late night at a bar."

    "Taxi or Uber are on speed dial, Sweetie. Don't worry, I have all of my bases covered," Sam laughed as she pulled out her documents for the assignment.

    "Tell me about the project? Tell me we get to do an expose on the male swim team's speedos?"

    "Not entirely. Have you ever heard of Demi Pepper?" Sam inquired, as she looked Quinn's way.

    "You're kidding, right? She's only the next big thing in fashion design. To think they are concealing her away at Beckley gives me the chills."

    "How have I not heard of this girl? She appeared to keep herself under the radar for the most part."

    "No clue, she's prevalent in the fashion community, but she hasn't gone mainstream, so no one really knows anything about her. She's an enigma."

    As Quinn pulled up to Beckley, Sam had somehow convinced her to park near the Communications department. Her excuse, "It'll make it easier to get out after we're done." Quinn wasn't convinced, but skated into the tiny spot regardless.

    The two walked into the, now crowded, hallways. Class was dismissed and the halls were flooded with hipsters, sorority girls, and computer nerds. Their unnecessary amounts of perfume to mask the scent of last night's debauchery, assaulted Sam's senses.

    "I need to make a quick stop in a classroom before we head over to the design building. You okay with that?"

    "Sure thing. I am your servant to do with as you will," Quinn chuckled.

    "Thanks, babe."

    Sam stopped a peppy coed in the entrance, "Excuse me, but do you know where Mr. Flannery’s classroom is? He teaches..."

    "Integrated Marketing Communications, trust me, I know," the coed responded dreamily.

    "Yes, that would be him," Sam retorted almost sounding like a desperate sorority girl herself.

    "He's in room 616, at the end of the hallway."

    "Thank you, sweetheart."

    "Sure thing."

    "Mr. Flannery? Why do I get the feeling this isn't a business call? What happened to, ‘Work, then play?’"

    "I already have a full time gig, furthermore, who says I can't break the rules every once in a while," she grinned as they approached the room.

    Just as they were about to reach their destination, Sam caught sight of the raciest coed she had ever seen. This girl had to be six feet tall with legs longer than the typical women. She wore skinny jeans, heels, and a much too tight tank nearly exposing her goodies to Declan.

    Leaning in toward Declan's ear, she slipped him a sheet of paper. She had a devilish grin smeared across her face as she let her fingers linger a little too long in his palm. Declan searched the area with a thwarted look on his face, hoping no one saw their contact.

    I guess those jokes about professors sleeping with their students wasn't too far from the truth.
How had she been so stupid?
She should have known better than to try and make something of her chance encounter with this Irish stranger.

    Before releasing her grip on Declan's fingertips, she leaned in to whisper in his ear, followed by a kiss on the cheek.

A
lthough they had swapped numbers
, and pictures, for that matter, she still hadn't heard a word from Declan. Perhaps this explains his desire not to reach out. Sam was no dog, but compared to this girl, she was struggling. She couldn't compete with those insane legs.

"Sweet, Jesus that's her," Quinn spoke up.

"Who?" Sam grilled, trying frantically to pull herself away from ogling the two.

"Demi Pepper. You know, the whole reason we are here," Quinn stated very matter of fact.

"You mean that vixen right there?" Sam tried to discreetly point out the hellion in heels.

"Is that the mysterious Mr. Flannery she was chatting with?" Quinn requested as Demi and Declan parted ways.

"Regrettably, yes," Sam acknowledged as they made their way to the Fashion department. There wasn't a bone in her body that wanted to talk to this girl. She had single handedly ruined Sam's perfect day.

Well fuck me. Just perfect!

    "Come on. We have a task at hand," Sam encouraged as she and Quinn made their way to the Design Laboratory.

    Finally making their way to the studio, Sam was zeroed in on Demi and her team of minions. There was an air of confidence about her that Sam found absolutely threatening.

    "Hi, I'm Sam," she introduced herself as Demi looked at her with a curious look on her face.

    "Hi, Sam," she replied as if everyone on the planet should already know who she was.

    "I'm Quinn, and we are here to interview for Empire Magazine."

    "Yes, we are doing a column next month on your rise to fame. Would you have a couple minutes to speak with us?

"Sure, I guess a minute wouldn't hurt," she responded with such condemnation it annoyed Sam.

    She already despised the girl with her slutty moves toward Declan, how was she going to do a piece praising the trollop?

    Demi escorted them to a lounge area carved out of a section of the studio. Sitting on the flush, purple couch, Sam crossed her legs, and salvaged her notepad from her bag.

A
ssembling
across the couch in a giant armchair, Demi sat on the edge, ready to make her escape. She had no intention of sitting there for long, which was pretty insulting in Sam's book. Empire was one of the biggest fashion magazines out there, and she could barely spare a few minutes to speak with them.

    "So, what do you want to know?" Demi asked as she rested her elbows on her knees leaning forward.

    "Well, for starters what made you want to become a designer?" Sam looked at Demi, analyzing every detail of her face, her body, and even her arrogance. Just above her perfectly manicured right brow was a scar, shattering her perfect existence. Her lips weren't as plush as Sam's were, but rosier nonetheless. She had strands of purple scattered in her curls, yet they did nothing for her pale skin.

    "I like to think it's engrained in me. Ever since I was a child, I was very meticulous when it came to my doll's style. My mother used to question if something was wrong with me considering I didn't act like other children my age."

    Demi's words went straight in and out of Sam's ears. What she really wanted to know was what the hell she was doing with Declan.

    "You seem really committed to your dreams, I suppose it makes it hard to have a relationship with anyone." Sam didn't know why she detoured the conversation, she just...did.

    "I do alright. I'm sort of seeing someone right now, but we need to keep it on the down low," Demi blushed suddenly more animated then when they arrived.

    "Are they also in the fashion industry?" Quinn asked knowing right well what her answer would be. Quinn really was a great wing woman in this situation.

    "Oh, hell no. Far from it," she smirked knowing she had a secret that she was not going to blab to a nationally recognized magazine editor.

    Sam was cautious to ask Demi out right if she was seeing Declan. She didn't want to seem like a stalker, especially since she had zero claims to him. First her, then that
Ashley
chick, now Demi; this guy sounded like a total player, a hot player though.