Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set (49 page)

“I’m getting dressed,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Sam … ”

“I have to go home to figure out what to wear.” She is dead serious and I run a hand through my hair in frustration.

“You want to go home now?”

“Yes,” she replies definitively. “What time is dinner?”

I sigh as I stare at her in confusion.
Women!
“Dinner is at four,” I tell her sounding every bit as dumbfounded as I feel. “Sam, we still have several hours to kill.”

“I know, but this is important. Please take me home so I can figure this out; I don’t want your mother to think I’m a total skank.” Her voice is full of quiet anxiety and I realize that this is serious for her. She feels as if she’s blown her one chance to make a good first impression on my mother and now, she’s just trying to clean things up. I sigh as my heart goes out to her, and I regret my earlier laughter at her expense.

I get out of bed and walk around to where she stands in her black lace underwear, holding her pants in her hand. “I’m sorry, Sam … for laughing before. I know this is important to you.”

She smiles slightly at me and I kiss her forehead. We dress silently then and, on the way to her place, I grab us each a bagel and some coffee from a drive through. When we get to her apartment, Sam heads straight for her bedroom closet as I take my time checking all of her doors and windows. I venture upstairs and check her studio, admiring the completed painting of the vase of roses as I do. By the time I come back downstairs and enter her bedroom, Samantha has several outfits spread out over her bed and she is standing back, looking them over. I sit gingerly at the head of her bed and watch her in silence.

“Baby, it’s not a dress-up affair. It’s just a family dinner. We sort of … come as we are. It’s very casual, low key.”

She looks up at me with big worried eyes. “What does your mom usually wear?” she asks quietly.

“Mom and Aunt Celeste usually go to mass most Sunday mornings so, they’ll both normally wear just a casual dress or skirt,” I answer her honestly.

“A skirt and a nice top,” she says, brightening slightly. “I can do that.” She takes the outfits lying on the bed and begins to put them back into her closet. Then she turns to the other side of the closet and begins looking through her skirts. And as I watch her, I think about her asking if I had spoken to my mom since the incident. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. If Samantha is this freaked out, maybe Mom is too. I sigh as I stand up and walk into Sam’s closet.

“Hey, baby,” I say taking her into my arms, “I’m going to go. I’ve got something I need to take care of. Then I’m going to run home and get a shower and change, and I’ll be back to pick you up, okay?”

“Okay,” she answers softly.

“Don’t stress about it,” I whisper. “You’re going to look beautiful no matter what you put on.” She smiles at me and I kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back. Come lock this door.” She follows me to the living room and I kiss her softly before I go. Then I listen for the click of her lock and head out down the hall.

I get into my truck and drive across town, still thinking about Samantha and how nervous she is right now, and I try to put myself in her shoes. How would I feel right now if her mother had come in unannounced and saw my bare ass walking around in her daughter’s kitchen. I’d be a little self-conscious about meeting her properly the next day. And maybe I should have called Mom after it happened. Or run after her yesterday instead of just letting her leave the way she did. Maybe she’s just as upset as Samantha is. Maybe dinner today really isn’t such a good idea. At least, not without feeling Mom out first.

I pull into the driveway and get out of my truck feeling all types of anxious, and I’m not really sure why. Then again, I guess I know exactly why. I have never in my life brought a girl home before. Never. Not once. What is Mom going to think? I take a deep breath and head inside through the side door without bothering to knock, entering into the kitchen, and find Mom and Aunt Celeste cooking up a storm.

They look like the identical twins that they are. Same light brown eyes and auburn colored hair, except Celeste’s hair is shorter and full of curls and Mom has always kept hers long and straight. They both look up and smile at me as I enter but then go back to the fresh pasta dough they’re making for dinner. I venture over to a stool at the island in the middle of the large kitchen and have a seat, absentmindedly grabbing a baby carrot as I do.

“So Josh, your mother tells me you have a young lady,” Aunt Celeste says excitedly. “Who is she? Tell me all about her!” She looks at me expectantly, her soft brown eyes burning into me, and I sigh and ignore her, flashing a very irritated glance at my mom. I take a bite of my carrot and say nothing.

“Celeste!” It’s Uncle Paul calling her from the other room. She throws up her flour-covered hands in a very frustrated manner and turns to head out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron as she goes, leaving Mom and me alone for a few minutes.

“You told Aunt Celeste?” I say disgustedly.

“Well, forgive me, honey, but I walked into your house to find a barely dressed girl making you dinner! I was a little surprised. So yes, I mentioned it to your Aunt Celeste.” She looks at me in that take-no-prisoners sort of way that she has, and I feel like I’m sixteen and about to get a lecture for doing something she doesn’t approve of. “So, tell
me
about this girl, Josh. Where did you meet her? What do you know about her?”

I sigh heavily and roll my eyes. I don’t want to have this conversation but, I know there’s no way I’m getting out of this kitchen alive if I don’t. She’s looking at me with her no nonsense glare and she’s waiting.

“All right, look,” I begin with another roll of my eyes, “I’m not proud of the way this began and I don’t want it spread around because it could really get my butt in a sling at the station,” I stress to her.

She gives me her concerned mother look and asks, “Why? What have you done?”

Her tone is slightly accusatory and I suddenly can’t hold her gaze. I look down at the half-eaten baby carrot in my hand. Why does she make me feel like an unruly teenager? “She’s the victim in a case I’m working,” I say quietly, not looking her in the eye.

“The victim in a case,” she repeats as if she’s trying to wrap her head around it. “What’s she the victim of?”

Here we go.
“She was assaulted,” I say simply, still not making eye contact. There’s silence and I glance up and see her staring at me blankly. My mother is well aware of my issues with bullies. I know what she’s thinking. She’s wondering if I beat the shit out of whoever assaulted Sam and that’s why I could be in trouble at work.

“Who assaulted her?” she asks quietly.

“We don’t know. She was mugged in a grocery store parking lot, and now the creep is stalking her.” She looks slightly relieved. No doubt happy that I haven’t put some girl’s abusive husband in the hospital.

“So, what … you’re just sneaking around and screwing this girl even though you’re investigating her case?”

“It’s not like that, Mom,” I say agitatedly, and somewhat insulted. She studies my reaction, staring at me in silence for a long time.

“Oh, my God.” Her voice is quiet and shocked. “You really do like this girl, don’t you, Josh?” Her surprised tone is understandable. Mom knows that my life has been spent actively avoiding any romantic entanglements, and she knows why. That’s why she hasn’t given me too hard a time about it over the years.

I frown at her question, unsure how to answer her. “I don’t know,” I lie. My voice is small and I can’t meet her eyes again.

“Yeah,” she whispers. “You know all right.” She’s still staring, like I’ve sprouted wings right in front of her eyes or something. “Wow. Okay, so … tell me about her, honey. Who is she; don’t I even get to know her name?” I roll my eyes at her again and she slaps my arm, sending a small cloud of flour flying around. “You roll your eyes at me one more time, young man, and I’m going to let you have it. Do you understand?” she says pointing her finger at me, and I can’t help but chuckle at her. Now it’s her turn to roll her eyes at me, and she does not look happy.

“Yes ma’am,” I say, trying to stop smiling. When I glance back up at her, she is trying to hide her own smile.

“Answers, Josh,” she says emphatically. “I want answers.”

“Fine,” I say, finally giving in. “Her name is Samantha Colby.”

“Samantha Colby?” she repeats questioningly, and I can see her mind working, a puzzled frown crossing her face as she tries to connect the dots. “Why does that name sound familiar?” I say nothing as I stare at my hands, still playing with the half-eaten carrot I hold in my fingers. I sigh heavily. The Colby’s are like fucking royalty here in Seattle. I know it won’t take her long to put it together. “Josh, why does her name sound so familiar to me?” she repeats.

“Because her father was Richard Colby,” I say quietly, and wait for the fireworks. And I wait. And wait. I frown, and when I look up at her, she is pale as can be.

“Richard Colby?” Her voice is small and full of disbelief. “As in Richard and Kenneth Colby? Those billionaire twin brothers? Heirs of that big drilling family or whatever it is?
That
Richard Colby?”

I say nothing and nod my head slowly. She looks stunned.

“Oh, my God. I saw that on TV, on that … that tabloid entertainment show,
Seattle Social.
She was assaulted in a parking lot and the guy stole her car or something!
That’s
the case you’re talking about?”

Silently, I nod my head again.

“What the hell are you doing, Josh!? You’re sniffing around a Colby? A Colby, for Christ’s sake!” She is practically yelling at me now and I can feel myself getting angry but, I rein it in immediately. I don’t let my anger get the best of me when I’m dealing with my mother. Ever.

“I’m not
sniffing around
a Colby, Mom,” I say through clenched teeth. “I am seeing Samantha. Don’t make it sound like something sordid.”

She studies my face for a minute and her eyes soften. “I’m sorry, honey,” she says contritely. “I didn’t mean it like that. I only mean to say that I’m scared for you.”

“Scared for me?”

“Yes, scared for you!” Her voiced is raised again. “Josh, what do you think her rich family is gonna do once they find out about your relationship, huh? My guess is, they’re not going to take too kindly to the two of you being together. These are very powerful people you’re dealing with, honey.”

“I think you’ve been watching too many movies, Mom,” I tell her. “The Colby’s are not gangsters, okay. They’re not going to make me sleep with the fishes for getting too friendly with one of their women.”

“Don’t make light of this, Josh,” she demands. “The Colby’s are serious business in this town. Hell, in this
world!
And you are a fine man, honey, but I think I can say with certainty that you, and your police officer’s salary, are not what they expected for one of their princesses!”

I feel as if she’s slapped me in the face and I’m suddenly not so sure about bringing Sam here for dinner later. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mom,” I say quietly, and even I can hear the hurt in my voice. “And thanks for dismissing Samantha as a spoiled rich princess before you’ve even gotten to know her.”

“Josh … ”

“You know what … I invited Sam over here for dinner today,” I say bitterly, cutting her off. “But never mind. We’ll stay away if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“Josh, stop it,” she says, grabbing my arm. “You know that’s not what I want. I don’t want you to stay away.” We stare at each other for several seconds. “Oh, Joshie,” she mutters, using a nickname I haven’t heard since I was a very little boy. “I am very excited to meet the young lady who’s made you feel this way. Okay?”

I swallow hard and blink at her words, nodding silently. I look her in the eyes and she continues talking softly. Almost as if she’s speaking only to herself.

“My God. I honestly never believed you would get over your fear of being an abuser.”

“I haven’t.” My voice is barely audible, still wounded. And now tinged with fear at her words.

“Oh, honey. You have to; you are such a good man. And I’m so proud of you for having the courage to try,” she says softly. “And I truly am sorry, honey. You’re right. I should never make judgments on this girl before I’ve even met her. I’m sure she’s not a spoiled princess because you would never be interested in someone like that.”

I say nothing as I stare again at the half-eaten carrot in my hands. Then I sigh as I get up and walk around the island to stand next to her. Leaning down, I kiss her temple. “We’ll be back in a few hours,” I say quietly.

“We’ll be here,” she says lightly, smiling at me. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

“She’s nervous because of yesterday,” I tell her, and Mom groans.

“Well that was all my fault. I guess maybe I should call first from now on, huh?”

I smile slightly at her and shrug. “Probably wouldn’t hurt,” I say quietly. I turn then to leave, tossing the rest of the carrot into the trash as I do.

*****

When we pull into the driveway of my mom’s place I can tell that Samantha is incredibly nervous. She’s quiet and trying not to fidget but, her fingers knot and twist in her lap. I reach over and take both of her hands in one of my own.

“Relax, Sam. My family won’t bite,” I assure her. “I promise.”

She smiles at me but, I know that she’s still anxious. Leaning over, I take her chin in my fingers and bring her lips up to meet mine. I kiss her tenderly, letting my lips linger on hers.

“I honestly never believed you would get over your fear of becoming an abuser.”

My mother’s words come unbidden back to my mind, and I am suddenly hit with a wave of fear and anxiety as we kiss. I look deep into Sam’s eyes and swallow nervously.

“Do I look okay?” she asks me softly, for about the third or fourth time, and I smile indulgently at her.

“Samantha, I told you … you look beautiful.” And it’s the truth. She’s chosen a simple wrap dress with a jade green jungle flower print and matching heels. The dress flatters her figure and the color brings out her amazing bright green eyes. She’s wearing small, gold hoop earrings and she looks lovely and casual and not like a spoiled rich princess at all.