Samantha darling Read online

  “Why would I follow you?”

  “I don’t know, but you sure as hell have been staring at me all night.”

  Wes brushed my hair away from my shoulder. “I haven’t seen you in a few days. You look nice.”

  “If you wanted to see me, it would be easy. I live next door to you.” I was attracted to Wes, but not his douche boy act. “Why don’t you concentrate on your date instead of me?”

  “I love your angst,” he said, as if in pain. “Adrienne’s not my date. She’s a friend.”

  The way he said the word implied that she was a fuck buddy. I groaned, swung the bathroom door open, and went inside.

  When I returned to the table, Austin was making a crude joke about getting it in as Wes and Adrienne were standing up to leave. I refused to look in his direction. I hated that thinking of Wes being alone with another girl gnawed at me. I mean, I didn’t even know him.

  Charlotte and I split a bacon cheeseburger and fries. While we ate, Charlie visited our table several more times. Apart from asking if I needed anything, and refilling my glass, he ignored me.

  On the way home, Charlotte asked me what I thought of Nate. It was then that I realized she’d intended to set us up.

  “Considering that we only said one word to each other, I’d say that neither of us were interested. I’d appreciate not being set up again.”

  Charlotte’s mouth fell open. “It wasn’t a set up. It’s just the way the numbers fell out tonight.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She laughed. “Okay, okay. I won’t try to set you up again.”

  Although it was lit up, no one was at my house. I grabbed a towel from a guest bathroom downstairs, went outside, stripped off my borrowed dress, and dove into the swimming pool. It was irregularly shaped, painted lagoon blue, and had a couple dozen fiber optic lights randomly placed in the bottom, making it appear that I was diving into the night sky.

  I swam from the deep end to the shallow end, sat on a step, laid my head back onto the ledge and stared up. Just like most people on the planet, I’d often wondered if heaven was real. It’s a beautiful idea, not to mention comforting to believe you’ll see the people you’ve lost again. That they’ll be happy and healthy and trouble free, but I would have no way of knowing if heaven existed for sure until I’d croaked. I figured that was where faith came into play.

  The latch catching on the gate startled me. What startled me more was seeing that Wes Cohen was standing in front of me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I wanted to see you.”

  “You saw me at dinner.”

  “I wanted to see you some more, and you said I could come over since I live next door.”

  “That’s not really what I said.”

  Wes took his hands from the pockets of his khaki pants and pulled his shirt over his head. As badly as I wanted to check him out, I made sure to not seem interested in his body at all, and kept my eyes fastened to his.

  “I’m surprised you’re not out still. Couldn’t you get Adrienne to give it up?”

  “I could have. I was just preoccupied with something.” Wes took off his pants, revealing snug fitting boxer briefs, and eased himself into the pool in front of me. “I’m not certain, but I suspect something about you.”

  “That I’m not going to put up with your bullshit? You’re correct.”

  He grinned crookedly, pushed my hair behind my shoulders, and placed a hand above my left breast, over my heart, which was beating nearly out of my chest. “Well, damn,” he said softly, his eyes making contact with mine. “You are a virgin.”

  Embarrassed, my face grew red. “You don’t know that.”

  “A girl who’s had sex before wouldn’t react so strongly to such a simple touch.”

  It was annoying as hell that Wes could tell I’d never had sex just by touching me. I shoved his hand away. “You’re an asshole.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin, Sam. We all start out that way.” His eyes caught mine. “There are boys who prefer to be first, I’m just not one of them. Bad experience,” he whispered. “But we can be friends.”

  “How is that? You fuck your friends.”

  Wes laughed hard. “You dirty mouthed thing.”

  “What makes you think I’d want to be friends with you anyway?”

  “The way you look at me.” He gently touched my cheek. “I think you’d take whatever you could get.”

  Not wanting to say something I may later regret, I remained silent as I climbed out of the pool and covered myself with a towel.

  “I guess this is goodnight,” Wes said.

  “You guessed right.” I went inside, locked the door, and turned off the outdoor lights, leaving Wes in the dark.

  “We’re going to be great friends, Samantha darling!” he shouted, royally annoying me.

  12

  “W hat’s wrong with boys?” I asked Ellen. I’d given up trying to eat my breakfast and was pushing fruit chucks around my plate.

  “A little of everything,” she said out of the side of her mouth. “Is there one in particular you mean? I know most of ‘em around here.”

  “You won’t judge?”

  “That’s well above my pay grade.” She glanced up.

  “You mean you’re not God?”

  “Afraid not.”

  I smiled, and then frowned. “Wes.”

  “He’s definitely easy on the eyes,” Ellen said, not startled by my admission.

  “He’s also borderline infuriating.” I wanted his attention, just not in the way he gave it to me, which was so girl of me. “What was he like when you worked for his family?”

  “Can’t say. I signed a confidentiality agreement.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I signed one for Betty, too. It’s standard practice these days.”

  “Can you tell me anything?”

  “Only that I worked there for three years.”

  “Wow. That’s nuts.”

  “What’s nuts?” Betty asked, entering the kitchen.

  “How long it takes to make a fruitcake,” I lied, halfway trying to not sound like a bitch.

  “Oh.” Confusion as to why we’d be discussing fruit cake in June registered on her face, but she dismissed it, then told me she would be driving me to group.

  “Where’s my dad?”

  “Meeting with a Realtor,” she said hesitantly, pouring herself a glass of orange juice.

  “A Realtor, why?”

  “He’s considering selling the house.”

  “Our house?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s seeking closure.”

  “He won’t find it by selling that house. Maybe if he’d bothered to have a service for my mother, he’d have closure. Maybe he needs to pray, or to go downstairs and talk to the boxes of her things that he’s shoved into the closet.”

  “Do you talk to the boxes?”

  “I don’t appreciate what you’re implying,” I complained.

  “It was just a question.”

  “Actually, I do. Since there’s no monument, no burial place, and soon to be no house to visit, I spend time with her things.”

  Betty looked sincerely at me. “I didn’t mean anything by asking.”

  “Dad should have talked to me about this first, but he’s never been great at including me in the life changing choices he makes.”

  “The house isn’t being used, Sam. There’s nothing schismatic happening. It’s just a meeting.”

  “I’m not saying he shouldn’t sell. I’m saying that I’m tired of him doing crap that affects me behind my back while expecting total honesty from me.” I stood from my seat, put away my plate, and went to get in the car.

  By the time I got to Dr. Pierce’s office, I was furious. “I’ll pick you up,” Betty said as I was slamming the car door.

  Instead of using the elevator, I took the stairs. When I reached the top, I was out of breath and
regretting my decision, but at least it had temporarily taken my mind off of my father plotting to sell my home without telling me.

  Mark, Claire, Charlie, and Morris were already seated when I entered the room. I sat down, crossed my arms, and stared at the floor.

  “What’s the matter, Samantha darling?” Charlie asked.

  I unfolded my arms and shot him a bird.

  Charlie winked, and then breathed, “You wish.”

  “Flipping you a bird doesn’t mean that I want to fuck you, dumbass. It just means fuck you.”

  Claire clapped a hand over her gaping mouth, trying to suppress giggles.

  “How was everyone’s week?” Dr. Pierce asked, entering the room.

  “Sam’s pissy,” Charlie announced. “And I’m pretty sure she wants to have sex with me.”

  “Shut up! I did not say that!” I shouted.

  “You following me around the other night let the cat out of the bag, sweetheart.”

  “I wasn’t following you.”

  “Shall I consult Webster on the definition of following?”

  “Time out,” Dr. Pierce said. “Sam, what’s going on?”

  “Charlie eavesdropped on my friends and I over the weekend.” How else would he have known they call me Samantha darling?

  “No, I didn’t. Your boyfriend, Wes, asked me how you and I know each other.”

  “Wes isn’t my boyfriend. He’s my neighbor,” I defended, then froze. “What’d you tell him?”

  Charlie smiled. “That you’re nuts… about me.”

  I was so tempted to get up and wrestle him to the ground but, I needed to know. “What did you tell him?”

  “The easiest way for me to get Boy Wonder to go back to pretending I don’t exist was to tell him that I don’t know you.”

  “Well, you don’t know me, so that’s fair.”

  Charlie didn’t reply, but continued to stare at me. I looked to Dr. Pierce in hopes that he would start a new subject, but he put it back on me to do so.

  “Anything else going on with you, Sam?” he asked.

  “My dad is selling the house I used to live in.”

  “You guys need a few more million to add to the pile?” Charlie asked.

  “I’ve already told you, I’m not rich, but I am sick of your stupid mouth.”

  “Why are you antagonizing Sam?” Dr. Pierce asked Charlie.

  “She’s fake.”

  I pointed to him. “You have no idea what I am.”

  “Yes, I do. You’re just like every one of the people you were with at the club the other night. They’re all the same self-righteous rich kids who think the world owes them everything, and that people like me are peons whose only purpose is to serve them.”

  “Oh, come on. If you don’t want to serve people, don’t get a job as a fucking waiter. Besides, from what I saw, no one treated you poorly.”

  Charlie stuck his tongue in his cheek, taking a moment to choose his words. “I took that job because it pays well. In a summer I can make enough to last through the school year, and unlike you and your friends, my parents weren’t rich. I have to take care of myself. I pay my own way.”

  “You also harshly judge people that you don’t know. You and I haven’t even had a conversation and you’ve made tons of assumptions about me. But truthfully, I don’t give a shit. Think whatever you want.”

  “Let’s go back,” Dr. Pierce said. “Sam, how do you feel about your dad selling your house?”

  “Angry. I found out after he’d gone this morning, but he and I will be having a conversation when he gets home.”

  “Do you plan to be confrontational?”

  “I don’t plan anything anymore, Dr. Pierce. Whatever happens is what’s going to happen.”

  “You can control the encounter. Knowing what points you’d like to make in advance would be helpful.”

  Although I thought his advice was total bullshit, I wasn’t going to argue with the guy. Or make a PowerPoint presentation for my dad. He already knew why I’d be angry at him for selling our house.

  I was tired of talking and zoned out for most of the remainder of the session. Listening to Morris yap about video games and Claire about what to steal next was a tad boring.

  Downstairs, waiting for Betty to pick me up, I found Charlie. I’d noticed him watching me a couple of times during the session. I hoped my rant had humbled him, but imagined that he’d be defensive with me if I tried to talk to him, so I didn’t say a word. Neither of us did. Not even when Betty drove up. I glanced in his direction as I got into the car, but he wasn’t looking.

  “Still opponents?” Betty asked.

  “Looks like it,” I groaned.

  I lingered downstairs so that I would see my dad as soon as he got home. He appeared haggard, but I still chose to be an asshole. “Rough day?” I asked. “I’m sure that listing your only child’s home for sale behind her back was exhausting.”

  “Sam,” he moaned. “It was just a meeting.”

  “Why would you want to sell? That house can’t be worth more than a hundred thousand dollars, and since you married a millionaire…”

  “My considering selling the house has nothing to do with its worth. Or Betty’s for that matter.”

  “What does it have to do with, then? Closure? Betty told me you need closure.”

  “Maybe. In a way I guess I do, and there’s no reason to hold onto a house we no longer need.”

  “You should have talked to me first.”

  “I knew you’d be emotional about it.”

  “How else would you expect me to be? You want to sell the place we lived with Mom.”

  “It’s no longer that place for me, Samantha. It’s where she died. I want to cut it loose and start over.”

  “You’ve already started over! You have a new wife and a new house and a new job and tons of new hobbies.”

  “There’s no reason to keep the house, Sam. I didn’t list it today, but I’m going to.”

  “I know it was hard for you, but you can’t erase her from our lives, Dad. Selling the house and all this other junk you’re doing will never make it so that she didn’t exist.”

  “That’s not at all what I’m trying to do. I would never want to erase her.” The desperation in his expression made me believe him. “Your mother’s care was expensive. I had to take a second mortgage to pay for what the insurance company didn’t cover. Selling will yield no profit. ”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It was my job to handle it. You didn’t need to know.”

  “I’m sorry you had to do that.” I knew how hard he’d worked to buy that house.

  “Part of me is seeking closure, but the rest of me doesn’t want to continue making payments on a house that we no longer need. I’d rather put the money toward something else, like, your college expenses. Can you understand that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. Knowing about the mortgage gave me a better understanding of why he wanted to sell.

  “Will you tell me before you list it, so I can see it one last time?”

  Dad’s blue eyes turned soft. “I promise.”

  13

  T he Cohen’s invited us to dinner at their house. I felt like an idiot for being excited to see Wes, the non-virgin-screwing-slut, and hated that I couldn’t get him out of my head. Luckily, I got no complaints from Dad or Betty about my wardrobe choice. Yoga pants and a t-shirt—my new uniform.

  Robert and Babs welcomed us inside before sending me downstairs to meet Charlotte and Wes, but only Wes was there. He was sitting on the sofa in front of the TV.

  “Where’s Charlotte?” I asked.

  “She had a date. Are you still mad at me?”

  “I was never mad.” Disappointed, but not mad.

  “Liar. You look peeved.”

  “And you look like an ad for a weekend in The Hamptons.” The kids I’d gone to school with would have kicked his ass because of his clothes. H
e was wearing coral shorts and a gray button-down with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

  He cracked a smile. “Are you teaching a class later? Peeved yoga. Is that your thing?”

  He was proud of that one.

  “I’m surprised you’re here with all the steering clear of me you plan to do.”

  “I don’t plan to steer clear of you, Samantha darling, just of popping your cherry. Come sit with me.”

  I stalled.

  “I won’t bite you. I won’t touch you at all if you don’t want me to.”

  It took a second, but I sat down. “Why did you ask Charlie how he knows me?”

  “I thought he looked familiar, so I asked his name.”

  “Of course he looked familiar. He works at the Mothership of this island without water, but that’s not what I asked you.”

  Wes bit down on his bottom lip, trying to keep from smiling.

  “If you want to know something about me, ask me, not Charlie.”

  “Fine. How do you and Charlie know each other?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Okay,” Wes chirped. “Who’s Patricia?”

  My heart raced. He really had seen inside of the closet that night. “That’s also none of your business.”

  “I guess I’ll have to go back to trying to pump Charlie for info.”

  The idea made me squirm in my seat.

  “How are we going to become friends if you won’t share with me, Samantha darling?”

  “I don’t want to be friends.”

  “Bullshit.” Wes nudged my arm. “Tell me something about you.”

  In hopes that Mrs. Cohen would call us for dinner and put an end to this madness, I indulged him, just not in the way that he wanted.

  “I don’t like sushi.”

  He laughed. “That’s not what I had in mind, but I’m not a sushi fan either.”

  “Capers are okay.”

  “They’re good with fish.”

  “I’ve never eaten sardines.”

  “What about oysters?”

  “Oysters look like snot, so no.”

  “Oysters are good on a saltine with a little hot sauce.”

  “Yuck.” I shook my head. “What kind of crackers do you eat with caviar?”

  “I’ve never eaten caviar.”