Stir Me (26 page)

"Maybe." Penny squeezes the tissue in her hands.

"I'll be honest. Mr. Knight doesn't want me to be so aggressive in these negotiations. He'd prefer that we make a reasonable offer and get this over with. It's not the choice I would make, but I can understand if you'd rather get out of your marriage quickly than get out of your marriage with a boatload of money."

"A boatload?"

I smile. "Yes, a boatload. If you want to be greedy, this is your chance."

"I don't know."

"This is a terrible offer, Penny. He can do better. You can do better."

"But it's not my money."

"I know how you feel. You think you'll be a gold digger if you ask for what you deserve. But that's a lie someone else has sold you. He agreed to support you, and he failed. I'm here to make sure you get what you are legally entitled to."

"And I'm legally entitled to a boatload?" she asks.

"According to his financial statements. You'll never have to work again. Not if you don't want to."

"But what about the prenup?"

"A prenup is only as good as opposing counsel. And trust me, I'm much better than this prenup."

"But won't that take a long time?"

"Yes, but not your time. And, thanks to Mr. Knight, we bill a flat rate."

"So I might as well let you go crazy?"

I nod. "It would be my pleasure."

"Yeah," she says. "Maybe losing a boatload of money will finally get his attention."

"Exactly."

I offer my hand, and Penny shakes it.

Thank God she's here. She has options. She's not trapped in an empty relationship like my mom was.

Like Alyssa was.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

I've had a miserable time sleeping since my mom died. I spend nights tossing and turning, staring at the TV or working until I drop. For so long, I've run away from the fear in my belly--that uneasy feeling that promised I'd lose another person I cared about.

I haven't loved Samantha in a long time, but I've been terrified of losing her. I've been terrified that, if I stopped doting on her, helping her, running to her, she'd swallow another bottle of sleeping pills. That my friendship is the only thing standing between her and suicide.

Alyssa was right. I hate Samantha. I've hated her since the moment she told me about Edward. I hated her for fucking someone else behind my back. I hated her for lying to me. But mostly, I hated her for falling in love with him.

She knew how I despised him. I admit, I was vague about the details. I never felt the need to share that part of my past with her. Truth be told, I doubt she would have cared much. She was too busy concerning herself with how everything looked to give a damn about how things were.

I've swallowed that hate for so long. I've tried to convince myself I could push aside my anger.

But I can't do it anymore.

She's gone too far. She's not just hurting me anymore. She's hurting Alyssa.

And that's unforgivable.

No. That's not right. It's just about Alyssa. Samantha isn't the thing standing in the way of my relationship with Alyssa.

I'm standing in the way.

But not anymore.

Alyssa was right. She always is. I don't like Samantha. I'm helping her out of some misguided sense of obligation. But my attempts at help are useless. She's as depressed as she was a year ago. She's as maladjusted as she was a year ago.

She's never going to get better like this. She's only going to keep dragging me down.

I shake my head. I never would have realized it without Alyssa. I would have kept living that night over and over again--my mom running out of the house, the hours passing quietly as I pretended to sleep, the cops arriving at the doorstep at the break of dawn.

But my mom is gone and there's nothing I can do to bring her back.

If I don't act now, I'm going to lose the most important person in my life. And I can't have that.

And I need to get my life back, so I can give it to Alyssa.

***

I meet Samantha to finalize the transfer of the mortgage. We're in the Chase across from the water. It's like every other Chase in existence--tinted windows blocking out the rest of the world, convincing me I'm in some cocoon of dimness rather than the sunniest part of the country.

I stare at the contract. It's a fair deal, not that I care about the money. I have plenty of money, even if most of it once belonged to my father.

The paper seems more blindingly white than usual. That black ink seems darker, more permanent.

I run my fingers along the smooth plastic of the ballpoint pen. It's only a house. I'll miss it, sure, but it's not worth the fight.

I sign on the dotted line. Samantha wears the happiness in her eyes, but she tries to play it cool. She offers me a handshake. Then, fuck it, she throws her arms around me in a hug. It's too tight, too close, too intimate. A few weeks ago I would have denied it meant anything.

But now it's too obvious to ignore.

I may hate Samantha, but I still don't want to destroy her.

"Thanks, Luke," she says.

She squeezes me tighter, even as I pull away.

"Can we talk?"

"After we celebrate."

"I have to get back to work. I should make it quick."

"One drink. Please." She looks at me with need.

Okay. This is the last time I'm giving her what she wants. I might as well do it all the way.

I nod. "Okay." A glass of Cabernet will calm her down. It will make all this go down more easily.

I rack my brain. This won't be easy for her. She needs someone to call, someone who can come and comfort her. Someone else.

"Give me one minute," I say.

I hate to do this to her, but I don't have a better option.

I text her mother.
Can you please call Samantha in half an hour? She's really going to need to talk to you.

Her mother isn't the strongest person, but she doesn't share Samantha's father's obsession with appearances.

No. I have to do better than her mother. She had a friend, a friend she always used as an excuse when she was really visiting Edward. I still have her number somewhere.

"Make it two," I say, pointing to the bathroom in the corner. I wait until I'm inside and then I call Delia, Samantha's college roommate. I doubt they're close, but I know Delia is still in L.A.

It rings three times and she answers. "Hello."

"Hey."

"You're shitting me. Is that really you, Luke?"

I laugh. "I was worried I'd have to remind you who I was."

"No. I still remember everything that happened with you and Samantha."

She sounds guilty. So she still remembers being Samantha's excuse.

"It's okay," I say. "All water under the bridge."

"Thank God. I felt so awful. You know, I always liked you. I didn't want to lie. I just..."

"Tell you what--you can make it up to me."

"You sure?" she asks.

"Are you and Samantha still in touch?"

"Here and there."

"Can you get out of work and get to the marina quickly?"

"Sure."

"Samantha is going to be at this hotel bar. I forget the name. I hope she's not going to be devastated, but she's probably going to be devastated."

"Why?"

"I'm breaking up with her... well, as a friend."

"Oh," she says. She exhales, thinking it over. "Good for you."

"I'm a little scared, to be honest."

"I think it's for the best. For both of you."

"I'll text you the address. Get there as fast as you can. Take her out. Spend as much as you want. I'll pay you back."

"That's okay. I think I owe you this one." She takes a long breath. "Good luck."

I hang up and check my reflection in the mirror. It's the calm, composed professional. Suit and tie, hair arranged as neatly as possible.

Doubt creeps up on me, but I push it aside.

This has been a long time coming.

Outside, Samantha is waiting with an annoyed look. But she doesn't mention it. She follows me to the hotel around the corner. I make a note of the address and text it to Delia.

"Who are you talking to?" she asks.

"Scheduling a meeting." It's an excuse she won't question.

I look around. The lounge is dark, and the furniture is a strange shade of gold. This won't be the worst place in the world for Samantha to wait, and the bartender seems friendly enough. The type who would listen to a crying woman.

Samantha insists on paying, as if she didn't just transfer all her money into my savings account.

She lifts her glass to toast, her expression all smiles. "To our futures."

I nod. "To our futures."

Our glasses touch with a gentle clink, and she takes a long sip of her wine. "Are you happy for me?"

I nod. There are no more legal ties between us. Nothing that can make a mess or get in the way.

"I'd be so fucked without you," she says.

"You got by okay without me."

She shakes her head. "No. I was such an idiot before. I can't believe I didn't realize what I had." She looks at me, her eyes filling with delight. Then she inches closer.

I know this look.

And then she kisses me. It's quick. A flash. Fast enough it could be two friends saying hello.

But there was more in it than that.

She stares at me, her brown eyes unwavering. I expect an
I'm sorry
or a
that was out of line
, but she says nothing.

"Sam?"

"I was so wrong before. I was stupid. I wouldn't let myself love you. But it's different now. I can now. I can love you so much, Luke. Please... I want to make all this up to you. I want to earn some of your love." She looks at me again. "Please, just kiss me. Hold me. Even if it's only for today. I want to be with you. You're the sweetest guy I've ever known. And I was lying before. You were better than him. The best I ever had."

I'm dizzy again. I knew Samantha wouldn't take this lying down, but Jesus.

"I know you still love her, but you'll move on."

"What is wrong with you?"

She reaches for my hands. "Alyssa isn't like you. She'll never understand your world. She'll be happier with someone like Ryan."

Anger surges through me. "Fuck you."

"What? I..."

"You can say what you want about me, but if I ever hear you speak ill of Alyssa again..." I shake my head. "No, it doesn't matter, because I'm not going to hear you speak of anything again."

"Luke, I... You can't."

"I can't? You just asked me to cheat on my girlfriend."

Her eyes narrow. "You did the same thing to her."

"That's different."

"How?"

"Alyssa and I were strangers. You and are I friends. Hell, I come running every time you need me. Would you really throw that all away just to get in my pants?"

"I've never asked you to 'come running.' Never."

"You beg me not to leave."

"I'm sorry," she says. "But I love you. It's your fault, you know. You keep showing up when I need you."

"I don't feel like that about you. I don't feel anything for you anymore."

"Then why do you... what are you so..."

"What else was I supposed to do?" I ask. "You drop hints that you'll fucking kill yourself if I don't stay."

She stares back at me. She looks like she's about to cry, but she'd never cry in public.

She shakes her head. "You can't do this. You're my best friend. I'm sorry I said stupid things, but I do love you. I've been stupid all this time. I never should have been with Edward. He was nothing compared to you."

"You were in love with him."

"No." She bites her lip, her eyes quivering. "I loved you. Always."

She doesn't believe a word she's saying.

"Love is something you do. And you don't manipulate people you love. You don't spend two years carrying on an affair behind their back."

"I was mixed up, but I always loved you."

I push her away. "Stop. It doesn't matter if you ever loved me or if you still love me. I'm walking away from this friendship."

"Because of Alyssa?"

"Because of me."

She pouts. "She's not worth it. She's never going to give you what I could give you."

"I don't like you, Samantha. Lately, I hate you. You have no qualms about threatening suicide to get your way." I take a step back. "Whatever debt I owed you, it's repaid. You're on your own."

Her voice is loud and desperate. She's practically screaming. "Please, Luke. I'm sorry. I'll change. Just stay with me."

I stand my ground. "No."

"You'll get over Alyssa," Samantha says. Her eyes are wild. Like she's crazed. Like she's an animal about to lose her prey.

"I won't, and I don't want to."

Samantha straightens. She runs a hand through her hair, trying and failing to look composed. She's still wild. Still crazed.

She grabs my wrist. "Think about this. She's not the faithful type. And she's not interested in guys like you. She'll be hooking up with her co-stars by her next birthday."

I bite my tongue. Samantha doesn't mean this. She's angry and I'm not going to cause a scene. "I'm trying to give you a chance to walk away with dignity."

Samantha blinks back a tear. She looks like she's about to scream, but she keeps her voice even. "Are you really this blinded by some L.A. bimbo because she's got a nice rack?"

"Fuck off."

"You're just like your father. You think you want someone young and pretty, but--"

"Jesus, Sam. Get a grip. She's only four years younger than you are. And it's got nothing to do with how she looks. Hell, you just called yourself pretty."

"I thought you were better than this."

I shake my head. "I love her. I love her in a way I never loved you. In a way I never will love you. You could be the most beautiful woman on the planet, and I still wouldn't love you, because you're ugly inside. You're selfish and manipulative."

"Luke, please... You're wrong. I'm trying to help you. She's probably after your money."