by Nicole Vidal
“You know the deal. You need to maintain your GPA to keep your scholarship. Ask for help if you need it.”
Scarlett is under the impression that she got a full ride to NYU. The truth is, I’m paying for it. I don’t want her to struggle with student loans. After a brief break in schooling, I worked full time during the day and attended class at night. I barely slept for four years. After graduation I worked two full-time jobs and one per diem job. One job was simply to pay off my student loans as quickly as humanly possible.
“I know. Just venting. I have some work to do. See you in the morning.”
“Okay.” I continue shucking off my clothes as I climb the stairs. After replacing my dress with sleep shorts, a tank, and a thin hoodie, I hustle back downstairs in search of some dinner. My phone vibrates on the counter as I pass.
Sam: Random question. How do you take your coffee?
Me: Cream with one sugar for a medium. Why?
Sam: Just wondering. Sleep well, Savannah.
Me: You too, Sam.
I sigh. Aside from his insanely good looks, work ethic, and probably gym ethic too, I don’t know very much about Sam. Well, he’s remarkably close to his siblings. He would drop everything for any one of them or their significant others. In fact, earlier this year, he told me about checking on his sister-in-law because photographers camped outside Cash’s home while he was away for work.
After inhaling some leftovers, I climb into my bed. Now that I can, I embrace sleep. Yet images of Sam keep crossing my mind. Hopefully, sleep will claim me soon. Otherwise, tomorrow is going to be rough.
Chapter Three
Samson
I fully expect my presence first thing this morning to fluster Savannah. I’m leaning against the car as she steps out of her building. As always she’s dressed perfectly. Today she opted for a navy, fitted dress with matching jacket. I didn’t want to startle her or her roommate by knocking early in the morning. Although, part of me is dying to see her fresh from sleep.
“Good morning, Savannah.” I sport a huge grin on my face as I hand her a homemade cup of coffee.
“Morning, Sam.” Taking the cup, she takes a sip, savoring it before speaking again. Savannah may be a foodie. She certainly enjoyed that first sip. “Thank you, this is perfect. What are you doing here?”
“I came to bring you to work.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I want to.” I would move her in with me if it were practical. It isn’t, at least not yet. That notion should scare me, but it doesn’t. Something about Savannah is different.
“How much earlier did you get up to be here?”
“Not too much. I go to the gym first thing every day. Instead of working from home for a bit, I came here.” I have some time to spare for tomorrow and the next day, now that I know how long it takes to get here.
After closing her door, I round the car and buckle up. “I didn’t know you had a roommate. How did you meet?”
She laughs. “We met on her birthday. Scarlett is my little sister.”
I laugh at myself. “What else don’t I know about you, Miss Clemons?”
“A lot, I imagine, Mr. Morgan. Like I don’t know very much about you. Well, not anything accurate.”
“Meaning?”
“I only know what you’ve shared with me. All the headlines about you are false.”
“You’ve read headlines about me?” Concern spreads in my chest.
“They’re hard to miss. I mean, a girl needs to grocery shop at some point. It isn’t as if I spend hours googling you. If I have a question, I’ll ask.”
“Do you have any?” I’m sure she has plenty of questions, but I’m not sure what she will ask first. My concern dissipates as quickly as it arose.
“Tons, but none that pertain to the headlines.”
“We’ve got time. What do you want to know?”
“How do you take your coffee?”
“Same as you. Is that what you really want to know?” There must be something deeper she wants to know.
“How do you ignore the headlines?”
“That’s easy, to date, not a single bit of it has ever been true.” The last time a headline was true didn’t even mention me by name. “We should talk about that though.”
Our driver parks at the curb in front of our office building. Once we exit the elevator, I guide her into my office. I lean against my desk as she takes a seat in one of the chairs.
“Talk about headlines?”
“Sort of. I take extra precautions to protect my privacy. Agreeing to go on a date with me will take some of yours away. Would you prefer to stay in for our date?”
“No, I don’t want to stay in. You and I have already been photographed together at business dinners and at the gala. Who cares if there are more photos?”
“I care.”
My words are a bit harsher that I would like. If she notices, she doesn’t indicate as much. Honestly, the press can go either way with me dating someone. I must admit, Cash and Noelle handled it well. They controlled the narrative by giving a legitimate, trustworthy reporter an exclusive.
“Sam.” She inhales sharply before speaking again. “Why?”
“I want to protect you from all the things that come along with dating me.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know you can, but I don’t think you realize how difficult the press can be.” The phone rings. I ignore it.
“What do you suggest?”
She’s giving me a little ground. I’ll take what I can get. “Please be more cautious if you go anywhere alone.”
She nods. The phone rings again.
“I should get to work.” She stands from her chair, but I remained rooted in place. Savannah is as close to me now as last night outside her door. Like last night, her scent teases me, but it’s stronger now. I smell jasmine, amber, and something else. She’s alluring. Resisting the urge to kiss her requires epic restraint, especially considering I was this close last night and thwarted. She slides away, narrowly avoiding me.
Sitting in my chair, I turn to face the city. I’ve lived here my entire life. I can’t imagine giving up the bustle like Cash has. Although I never considered finding someone to spend my life with after Meghan’s death. Savannah is the first woman who’s held my attention long enough for me to even consider it. Ironically, she wasn’t trying to capture my attention. It doesn’t matter, I’m already wrapped around her finger. She doesn’t know it yet.
Savannah and I work the rest of the day as if nothing has changed between us. Other than spending more time together outside of work, nothing has. It will, soon enough. I made reservations for Friday. I hope she likes jazz. Before six, I clear my desk and seek her out as she isn’t at her desk.
“Looking for something?”
A warmth spreads in my chest. The sound of her voice runs over me, calming me. “You. Are you ready to go home?”
“Sure.”
I refrain from reading into her tone. During the ride, I ask about dinner. “Do you want to go home before our date?”
“No, I can change at the office.” After escorting her home, I finish planning our date.
As Friday afternoon approaches, I’m getting increasingly nervous. I haven’t planned a date in years. Savannah buzzes around the office as usual. She’s meticulous, organized, and capable of running this firm without me. Those attributes stood out when her resume graced my desk. When she walked in for her interview, my jaw hit the floor. Figuratively, at least.
Now, it takes composure to keep my jaw from gaping open. This morning Savannah wore a black, tailored pantsuit for work. After the workday is finished, she steps out of the bathroom wearing a red cocktail dress that hugs her body like a seamstress cut the fabric specifically for her. My body doesn’t need more incentive to react to her.
“Savannah, you look gorgeous.” I hand her a bouquet of colorful blooms of orange bi-color roses, yellow alstroemeria, orange lilies,
and lemon leaf.
She takes them and lifts them to her pert nose. “Thank you. These smell wonderful. You look rather good yourself.”
I smile, offer her my arm, and take a step forward. “Why are you shaking, Savannah?” Turning to face her, I rest my hand on the curve of her waist.
“Savannah, please talk to me.”
“I’m nervous.”
“It’s just me.”
“There is nothing just about you. I’ve wanted to be in this moment since we met. After the gala, my desire to be here, right now, has multiplied exponentially.”
Before I think better of it, I draw her closer, my hand branding the exposed skin of her back. My other hand rests on her neck, my thumb grazing her jawline. A small sound of surprise passes between us, the air thick with unspoken desires.
“The same is true about you.” Leaning forward, I set my forehead against hers.
Our mouths are barely an inch apart. She sucks in a jagged breath. As much as I want to kiss her, here isn’t what I had in mind. Dragging my thumb backward along her jaw, I pull back, setting my lips on her forehead and looking down her wide, blue eyes staring up at me. She’s scared. So am I. We feel… perfect.
Yet in order to give her an out, I ask again. “Savannah, will you go on a date with me?”
“Yes.” I feel her shiver as my arm slides to rest at her waist.
A short ride later, we arrive at the Bistro on Fifth. The hostess guides us to a private elevator. When we arrive at the top, a dedicated server seats us at one of four tables on the roof. She hasn’t uttered another word since we left the office.
“Mr. Morgan. Miss Clemons, my name is Ivan, and I’ll be at your service this evening.”
We order our drinks, and Ivan scurries away.
“Have you ever eaten here before?” I cover her hand with mine. The tremble has significantly decreased.
“No.” Her quick response indicates she’s still nervous about this date. My intention isn’t to flaunt my wealth, the opposite. I would have preferred to have Auggie cook for us at my penthouse.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her response is clipped.
Ivan returns with our drinks and immediately walks away. I rise from my chair, rounding the table, offering her my hand.
“Come with me.”
Sliding her long, delicate fingers across my palm, she stands next to me. Electricity passes between us. I lead her across the roof to the observation area. It’s chillier over here because there are no dedicated heaters. I release her hand long enough to shrug off my jacket. After wrapping her small frame with my jacket, I surround her with my arms. “Still nervous?”
She nods before resting her head against my chest. “There are two warring issues in my head. First, you’re my boss, and dating one another is not the smartest idea ever. I need my job. Scarlett needs my job. Second, I want to be here. I’m insanely attracted to you, and that scares me.”
“I’m drawn to you as well. What do you mean Scarlett needs your job?”
She exhales and lifts her eyes to mine. “Scarlett is under the impression that she’s on a full scholarship to NYU. That isn’t the case. While she did get a few small scholarships, I’m paying her tuition.”
This woman is more than I ever imagined. Working her tail off to pay for her sister to go to a prestigious university. “What about your parents?”
“That’s a long story.”
“Well, isn’t learning about one another what dates are for?”
She shrugs slightly. I lead her back to our table, where Ivan has placed the salad course at our seats as well as a blanket for Savannah. She covers her legs with the blanket.
“My parents married young and had me. By all accounts, they were happy. My mother had numerous complications during Scarlett’s pregnancy, from diabetes to preeclampsia. She died a few hours after my sister was born.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Savannah nods and looks off to the side briefly before responding. “Thank you. My dad checked out. He was in the house, but he wasn’t truly there. I took care of Scarlett, from the midnight feedings to first day of school photos. She was near eight when I was deciding where to go to college. I took a few years to work until she was old enough to stay home alone after school. I went to community college for my undergraduate degree at night; then I completed as much of my graduate degree online while she was in high school. Now, she lives with me while attending NYU.”
“You’re even more amazing than I thought.”
Redness spreads across her face. “No, I’m not. I did what anyone would do.”
“You’re wrong. There are very few people who would put their sibling before themselves at such an early age, if ever. Most would attempt to get their parent to step up. How is your dad now?”
“Since Scar started college, he has made progress personally by seeking counselling. With us, he’s trying. He still doesn’t realize that his grief necessitated me giving up a lot of my childhood. It doesn’t matter; I would do it again if given the same choice. Scar is turning into a wonderful adult. I’m glad I didn’t screw her up.”
“You need to give yourself more credit. It seems to me both of you turned into amazing women with your gumption and guidance.”
“Thank you.”
Ivan returns, refills our drinks, and replaces our salad with soup. The rest of dinner passes with ordinary questions from favorite colors, mine is blue and hers is yellow, to hot or cold apple cider. We cover a bunch of topics, including sports and television. She loves football, dislikes baseball and stock car racing, and binge watches house flipping shows for décor ideas. Nothing as heavy as her family situation comes up again.
“Ready for our next stop?”
“Absolutely.”
I direct our driver to the jazz club.
Her nervousness appears to have dissipated. She’s sitting flush against me, our hands clasped atop my thigh. Unfortunately, the ride isn’t far, and all too soon, I need to move away from her. A soft sigh follows me out the car door. Once inside the club, we’re led to a private viewing area. The lighting is dim, the couch soft and comfortable. Shortly after sitting, our drinks arrive.
“Are you sure you didn’t research me somehow?” she asks.
“Is that even possible?”
“No, but I love jazz. Aside from my initial concerns, I’m having a wonderful time.”
“I am too.”
The show starts. Soft jazz music surrounds us. The quartet features two trumpeters, a saxophonist, and a pianist. Savannah cuddles against me on the couch, my fingers drawing circles on the cap of her shoulder.
I press my lips to her temple before speaking. “Dance with me?”
I push the small table off to the side before pulling her into my arms and sliding one hand around her, resting our joined hands between us. This isn’t the first time I’ve danced with Savannah, but this time I have permission to touch her like a date, not a business associate. Her curves pressing against me is a lot to take in. She fits in my arms like her body was molded for mine. Even with high heels, she’s shorter than me.
Pulling back, I raise her chin with my forefinger. Her stunning cobalt eyes with long eyelashes lift to mine. As I drag the pad of my thumb across her lips, she inhales sharply. Her chest rises and falls faster against me. Tentatively, I lean closer to her. The importance of this moment isn’t lost on me. This could be our last first kiss. Closing the distance, I press my lips to hers. Soft mewling sounds muffle in her throat. Her hand slides up my chest to cup my face.
Tightening my hold on her, I drop my other hand and reach for the couch. Slowly, I lower us to the cushion. Once seated, our mouths part for each other, our tongues twisting, exploring together. Every bit of desire I held back at the gala and earlier this week at her apartment, I give it to her. She’s giving the same amount in return. Kissing Savannah is heavenly. The entire world around us falls away. It’s only us. I could stay here in this
moment indefinitely. However, here is not the place to take this further, despite the ache in my chest to do so. I draw back slightly.
“Sam… I have no words.” Her lips are plump from our kisses and her skin is pink.
“Neither do I.” Everything was fine until I kissed you. It will never be the same again.
Lost in each other and the feeling of our first kiss, we cuddle on the couch as the band finishes their first set
“Do you want to stay or go?”
“We can go.”
I rise and escort her to the car.
Chapter 4
Savannah
The reality of Sam’s lips on mine exceeds my imagination many times over. Until tonight, a date with Sam was a pipe dream. Now it’s my reality, and I want more. So much more.
“Savannah, are you free tomorrow?” he asks after joining me in the car.
“Yes, I’m free.”
“Will you spend the day with me?”
I smile and lean over to kiss him again. I intend a small, chaste kiss, but it morphs into something akin to two teenagers at make-out point. I didn’t realize we parked in front of my building before we come up for air.
Slowly, I close my door after a shorter round of knee-buckling kisses with Sam in the hallway. I would invite him in, except I never know when Scar is going to be home.
“How was your date? Those flowers are gorgeous,” Scar says as I turn from the door. “The look on your face says your boss can kiss and does it well.”
Well doesn’t begin to cover how melty I feel when Sam kisses me. Is that even a word? If it isn’t, it needs to be.
“Seriously, Scar. Really, you can tell?”
Scarlett and I have talked about her dates before, but she has never been able to call me out until today.
“Savi, your lips look like you got a lip filler treatment, and your skin is blotchy.”
“It was amazing. We went to dinner and then to a jazz club.”
“Did you tell him you love jazz?”
“No, I didn’t. Apparently, we have that in common as well as a love of priceless art and football. What are you doing home on a Friday night? Guy trouble?”