Determined (Determined Trilogy Book 1) (21 page)

Another knock.

“Sammie? Are you in there?”

Leslie. My neighbor. I sighed with relief and slipped on my flats.

“Coming,” I croaked, my voice still raw from not having spoken yet that day. I checked my reflection in the mirror and opened the door. Leslie was standing there in rain boots, carrying a big umbrella and a pot with a lid.

“Hey Sammie! I wasn’t sure if you were back from your trip yet.”

“Yeah, got in early.” I tried to smile, but I was too tired. And I didn’t really feel like going into the events of the trip.

“Ah, very good. Thanks again for coming over the other night. Greg said he really enjoyed meeting you.”

The thought of my cute new neighbor managed to perk me up a little. “Thanks for hosting. Tell Greg I say hi if you see him.”

“I will Sammie.” She shifted in place and lifted the pot she was carrying. “Well, we thought you could use some food. I know it’s always a pain to have to go shopping after being out of town. Clark made butternut squash soup.” She handed the pot over to me, and then slapped herself on the forehead. “Oh, and strudel. I forgot the strudel. Clark made strudel for dessert. These rainy days send him on quite a tear in the kitchen.”

“Oh, don’t worry; the soup is more than enough.” I smiled kindly. I really did have the sweetest neighbors. And I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten much more than a cracker since Friday. Leslie cocked her head at me.

“Sammie, are you okay, hon?” Her words were so kind, so unlike the last few days, that it took all my will just to keep myself together. I wanted to open the floodgates and share my story with her, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I hadn’t even sorted it out myself, yet. I pressed my lips into a tight smile and opened my eyes widely.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just tired. Long plane ride, you know?”

She looked at me, concerned. “Sure honey, of course. Well, you rest up. I’ll be back with the strudel.”

“Thanks Leslie. And please thank Clark for me.” I shut the door as she walked back to the house, and brought the soup into the kitchenette. I popped open the lid. It smelled heavenly.

There was another knock on the door. Strudel delivery. They really did spoil me. I threw the front door open.

I stopped.

It was David.

He was standing in the rain—his jeans and fleece jacket, quickly soaking through.

I stared at him. My heart dropped into my stomach, and my voice was almost silent.

“What do you want?” I could barely speak. I looked up at him and then at the floor.

“Why wouldn’t you answer my calls?”

“Why did you leave?” I retorted, as my eyes snapped up to meet his gaze. I was still mad at him. Fuming.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough.” I fought the sting in my eyes. I wasn’t going to show him how much he hurt me. I wasn’t going to let him know how much he had affected me.

“May I come in?”

“No.”

He braced himself against the frame of the door and stared into me, his piercing dark eyes eclipsing everything. The rain continued. It was strange to be in the same space as him, and not touching. The electricity crackled between us, in a familiar way. I hated it.

“Samantha, I saw the tapes.”

My body froze. “What tapes?”

“Thomas had private cameras set up in the suite. He just showed me them. I saw everything. I am so sorry I didn’t believe you.”

I paused, watching him for a moment. So now he knew. Good. It was his turn to hurt.

“You left me.”

“I left you with that monster. I am
never
going to forgive myself for that, Samantha.” His voice trembled with hatred for what he had done.

“You left me,” I repeated.

“You’re right. I was a coward, and I am sorry. I left because it hurt. It hurt too much to see you with another man.”

I tried to speak, but he stopped me.

“I ran, because ... because I had vowed long ago to never allow myself to be affected like that.” I knew from his tone he was confessing something sacred. “But after that plane ride, I realized something important. I realized that I hurt so much because I care about you so much. I care about you in a way that is so deep and intense that it frightens me, Samantha.” His voice broke. “I realized that I could physically run away from you, from us, but that the distance didn’t mean anything. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep; I am a shell of a person without you in my life. Whatever pain I’ve experienced in my life was nothing compared to the pain I’ve experienced over the last forty-eight hours, thinking I’d lost you to another man.” He paused and looked down ... “And then when I saw the tape ... I was sick Samantha. I couldn’t believe that I left you with that monster.” He looked back at me, searching my face for answers, for a clue as to my reaction. “I am so sorry, Samantha.”

I kept still, processing.

“Please say something.” He said.

I paused and looked at him. At this beautiful man, soaking wet and standing in the rain, braced against the door frame.

“I thought I lost you,” I whispered quietly.

“You can’t lose me. I won’t let you. You mean more to me than you will ever know. I love you, Samantha. I can’t be without you.”

He loved me? I couldn’t say anything. It was too overwhelming. One moment, the world as I knew it was in ruins around me, and now this man, the man I was miserable without was standing in my doorway, declaring his love for me? I could barely keep up. I had to be sure.

I started to cry. “Coming back across that bridge alone was the most horrible moment of my life.” I took a breath and looked at him in the eye. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

He met my eyes and nodded solemnly.

“Never. I love you, Samantha.”

He pulled me in gently, and I put my head against his chest. It was warm, wet, and familiar.

“I love you, too,” I said quietly. He pulled my face up to his and kissed me lightly on the lips. I felt my whole body exhale into the comfort of him.

And we stood there, in the rain, for a while. Just holding each other, soaking through to the skin.

17

Life was back to normal. Or, at least the new normal. Whatever normal was as the girlfriend of David Keith.

After David and I made up, I went back to work on Monday. Curtis and Eve knew nothing about what had transpired in Miami, and I didn’t intend to share any of it. Instead, I volunteered a few anecdotes about gallerists I had met and artists I had seen. They seemed satisfied and impressed. I did, however, share my opinion about Evan Carmichael.

“He’s a real jerk, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Curtis asked.

“He just has a way of talking down to you. Like he thinks you should be grateful for his help or something. He can be a real asshole.”

“What can I say Sammie, not everyone in this biz is as awesome as me.”

I looked over at Curtis and felt really thankful.

“It’s true. You’re the tops, Curtis.”

Work passed quickly each day, with the buzz of the holiday season keeping us busy.

David and I were back on track. I spent fewer and fewer nights in Oakland, and more and more mornings on the bridge with Thomas. A few days after David and I were back together, Thomas and I were gliding across the bridge in the evening, and I remembered something important.

“Thomas?”

“Yes, Miss Sharp?” He glanced in the rearview mirror at me.

“Thomas, I never thanked you.”

“I’m sorry, Miss?”

“I never thanked you. For showing David the tapes. And for getting Evan out of there.” I was sure David had been in no mood to watch a recording of the incident.

Thomas paused, his face not forgiving his thoughts.

“Just following orders, Miss. Mr. Keith had been explicit that I do everything I could to keep you happy, so showing him the tapes was just a means to that end.” He paused and smiled, “Also, off the record Miss, he was a mess without you.”

I smiled and looked out the window. I knew not to press. I was overwhelmed with gratitude as we sped past the lights on the bridge. Grateful for Thomas, for my work, my friends and family, but especially for David. He was the love of my life, and I could feel his soul pulling me a city away.

When we finally arrived at the apartment, I practically floated up the elevator shaft, eager for what was awaiting me.

When it opened into David’s private foyer, he was there to greet me.

“Hey, girlfriend.” He said with a glimmer in his eye.

“Hey, boyfriend.”

And he pulled me up into his arms and whisked me off to the bedroom.

Author’s Note

Thank you, reader, for joining me for the start of Samantha and David’s story. I hope you will join us again for Part Two, Determined: To Love, coming in January of 2015. You can join my mailing list and get more information by visiting
www.elizabethbrownauthor.wordpress.com
.

-Elizabeth Brown