Emma raised a finger. “Objection. Badgering the witness.”
“Shut the fuck up, Jan Brady.”
“I was hoping to bolster my courage,” Sam said, voice barely above a whisper.
“Okay. But then we have mistake number two, which is? Jan?”
“Ah, never mix beer and liquor,” Emma said.
With arms crossed, Jade stood in front of Sam. “And then, the final nail in the coffin. The second beer.”
Sam grimaced. “I barely drank the second one.”
“Miss Cassidy, what is your nickname?”
“Two-Beer Betty.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I can’t handle my alcohol.”
“Bingo. Tell her what she’s won, Johnny.”
Emma used her best game show host voice. “You’ve won the chance to not sleep with Alex Novato!”
“I don’t think it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be,” Sam grumbled.
“Why is that?”
Sam puffed herself up. “Because she’ll be at my house Monday to work in my yard, probably in a tank top. Booyah! Defense rests!” Sam stood and held an imaginary mic up high, getting ready to drop it.
“That is not mic drop worthy,” Jade warned.
Sam dropped it.
Jade put her hands on her hips. “You pick that up.”
Sam gave a quick shake of her head.
“Pick it up. Right now, or I swear to God…” Jade left the idle threat hanging in the air.
Sam pouted, bent over, and picked up the imaginary mic. She collapsed onto the couch in a huff.
Jade started pacing again. “Have you heard from her yet?”
“No.”
“Here’s what you’re gonna do. Later in the week, you text her, since you just babble and drool when you talk to her, and you confirm the appointment on Monday. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, maybe we can salvage something here.”
* * *
A couple of days later, Sam was relaxing on the couch reading when her phone vibrated with a text from her favorite brunette.
Hey, just checking up on you, making sure you’re okay.
Sam felt two things: happy and mortified. And nervous. God, nervous? C’mon, Sam. Be cool.
She texted back. Feeling fine, now. Sorry about the other night, luckily don’t remember much.
Don’t apologize, shit happens. You’re good. What happens on the couch stays on the couch.
Shit. What had happened on the couch? Had she done something embarrassing? Oh God, what had she done? Did she say something stupid? Did they make out, and she didn’t remember?
Did we kiss?
LOL. Honey, even in a drunken stupor, you would remember that.
Relief flooded through her. All that talk about wanting to kiss a girl again, and to think she might have missed it because she was toasted! Would Alex be a good kisser? Of course she would be with that sexy mouth. A sudden picture of Alex putting her mouth on other things came unbidden into her brain.
She shook her head to clear the image and texted back. What happened on the couch, pray tell?
You don’t remember?
Sam frowned. That night was still a bit fuzzy. She remembered waking up on the couch, not getting to it.
No, do I need to be mortified? Because if so, it’s better here on text than in person, so just tell me now.
It wasn’t bad. You just wanted to cuddle.
Sam nodded. She did like to cuddle. Obviously, I have a cuddling problem. I’m a closet cuddler.
And there may have been some fondling at the dining room table.
Sam bit her lip. Had she gotten handsy too? Need I ask who did the fondling?
Well, it wasn’t me.
Sam gulped. Okay, well that narrows it down. And what, pray tell, did I fondle?
My bicep. And I have to admit, I was digging it.
Sam’s fingers whipped across her phone. Well, it seems I once again managed to humiliate myself.
And…
Sam groaned. Oh wait, there’s more? Goody.
You called me your reality show, My Humiliating Moments with Alex.
Perfect. I’ll make sure you get your royalty checks.
LOL. Don’t sweat it, your secrets are safe with me. See you Monday? Bright and early? Seven a.m.?
Sam brightened. Yes, seven a.m. Bring Yogi! And I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself.
Alex sent a sad-faced emoji.
Sam stared at the tiny, yellow pouty face long after Alex signed off, her body thrumming with excitement. Ever since she’d met Alex, it was like being hooked up to a slow drip of caffeine. This was the most alive she’d felt in a long time, despite the levels of humiliation.
Monday couldn’t come soon enough.
* * *
Alex tossed the phone down and rested her head against the back of the sofa. Yogi had his head in her lap, snoring. She reached down and tickled his ears. She was glad she’d given in to the impulse to text. Sam had been on her mind the past couple of days. Alex had been hoping she wasn’t embarrassed by the other night, and truth be told, she’d needed a Sam fix.
Picking up her phone, she scrolled back through their conversation. She thoroughly enjoyed Sam the texter. She exuded a sexy confidence. Alex glanced down at her faithful pooch, who had rolled over, offering his belly for a rub.
“What say you, Yogi Bear? Sam asked for you by name. Sounds like she has the hots for you, buddy. Maybe one of us can get to first base.”
He yipped.
Alex laughed and gave him a kiss on his lips. She reread Sam’s line about being a closet cuddler. It almost made her want to drive over and initiate a cuddle.
“This one may be trouble, Bear.” Alex continued rubbing his belly, chuckling at his expression of ecstasy.
Chapter Eight
Sam awoke early Monday morning, all atwitter with anticipation. At four a.m., she jumped in the shower, spent way too much time on her hair, and then stood in front of the closet for half an hour, mulling over what to wear. Which outfit matched her eyes? Which shirt showed the right amount of cleavage? Which shorts hugged her ass just right? By six a.m., she was in the kitchen sipping coffee. The photo shoot didn’t start until this afternoon, which provided ample time to observe the object of her affection—or rather, object of attraction. She didn’t know Alex well enough to have actual feelings. Yet.
She poured more coffee into her favorite Snoopy mug and leaned against the island. Her thoughts traveled back to college, when she’d last felt this way. Six long years without feeling the giddy excitement of being in the same zip code with someone.
Finally, the clock struck seven. Sam took her mug to the front window and peered into the dewy, early morning light. How pathetic was this? Stalking her own front yard, waiting for some woman she barely knew to arrive. Hopefully in a tank top.
Her mind drifted back to the texts she’d exchanged with Alex and the mild flirting that had made her heart race. She hoped it would continue in person.
When the buzzer sounded, Sam jumped, spilling coffee all over her perfectly ironed white V-neck. With a curse, she pushed the button to open the gate and ran back into the kitchen to blot the shirt with water. Soon the entire front was soaked. And see-through. Great. Well, her bra choice was on full display. It was white, and it was lacy, and she swore her nipples were visible. Fantastic. Hi Alex, c’mon in, and oh by the way, have you met my areolas, Titsy and Bitsy? Before she could ponder what to do about the peep show, the front doorbell rang. She held the towel close to her chest, hustled to the door, and pulled it open.
“Good morning,” Alex said.
Sam held onto the doorknob with her left hand to steady herself. “Morning.” She hoped she didn’t sound as out of breath as she felt.
Alex pointed to the front of Sam’s shirt. “What happened there?”
Overcome with modesty, Sam readjusted the towel. “Coffee mishap.” Uncertainty nagged at
her. Was a handshake in order? Or a hug? Perhaps it was too early for hugging. And dropping the towel to shake hands meant it was hello nipple time. She opted to just stand there like the dork she was. “Ah, do you wanna come in?”
“I’m gonna get my crew started. I’ll knock on the French doors when I’m done, and we can go over the plan for today.”
“All right. I’ll meet you around back. I’ll just, um, go change my shirt.” Sam closed the door and hustled up the steps to change, scolding herself for looking like such a huge, coffee-stained moron.
When she made it back downstairs a few minutes later, she peeked through the kitchen window. Alex walked around the yard with the crew. She was dressed much like the first day at the store, with long khaki cargo shorts slung low on her hips, a tank top that showed off a fabulous physique, and a weathered baseball hat. A mod pair of Ray-Bans completed the look. It was sexually devastating.
Sam’s nerves had her jittery. Or perhaps it was the three cups of dark roast. Something was causing heart palpitations. Sweat beaded up on her forehead, so she headed outside to breathe some fresh air.
Yogi came running as she stepped onto the patio, creating the perfect diversion. “Yogi Bear. Hey buddy, remember me?” Sam knelt to greet him and received a big, sloppy, wet kiss, right on the lips, and then a tongue right in the mouth.
Alex soon appeared. “See, Yogi? I told you one of us would get to first base today.”
Sam laughed. “Do you try to get to first base with all your clients?”
Alex smirked. “Only the blonde ones. I mean, they are supposed to be more fun.”
The heat of Alex’s stare radiated through her sunglasses, making Sam lightheaded. Yogi pushed his head into her hand, and she smiled at him. “He’s adorable. Is he a rescue?”
“Yeah. We rescued each other about four years ago.”
“Well, he’s welcome here anytime.” Sam stood. “I’ll let you get back to work.” As she walked away, her eyes remained glued to Alex.
“Sam, watch out!”
Too late. Sam turned just in time to promptly walk into the French doors, banging her forehead. “Ow.”
Alex hustled over. “Are you okay?” She cupped Sam’s face with her hand. “Let me see.”
“Am I bleeding?”
“No, but it might bruise. You’ll live.” Alex rubbed the spot and smiled that sexy smile.
Sam resisted the impulse to grab that hand and nestle her cheek into it. “I guess that’s par for the course, right? Just when I thought I had my shit together, the reality show continues. I’m sure I’ll be on crutches by the end of the week.”
Alex laughed. “Let’s hope not.”
Chuckling at her own ineptness, Sam jerked a thumb toward the house. “I’m gonna go, because I’m sure I have something better to do than run into things. Like put ice on my face.”
“Eyes forward, Blondie,” Alex instructed.
Sam completed her not-so-graceful exit and headed inside, making a beeline to the freezer for an ice bag. She chided herself for being such a clumsy ass. How was she gonna explain this lump on her head to the Lancôme people? Wait until Jade heard about this. Probably make her day. She shrugged. Why not make Jade’s day now?
Her bestie answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“I walked into a door this morning.”
“Oh good, the misadventures of Sam Cassidy continue.”
“And I French kissed her dog.”
“Sounds like you French kissed the wrong Novato.”
“Yeah. And I’m pretty sure she saw my nipples.”
“I don’t even wanna know.”
Sam held the ice against her lump. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”
“Relax. You’re fine. What’s she wearing?”
Sam had already committed what she was wearing to memory and recited it easily.
Jade sighed. “Be still my gay heart. Take a picture and send it to me.”
“I am not taking a picture. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“C’mon, just take it. She won’t even know.”
Alex made her way to the French doors.
“She’s coming to the door. I have to go.”
“Send me a picture!”
“Shut it.” Sam put the phone and ice bag down just as Alex knocked. She opened the door. “C’mon in.”
Alex followed Sam into the kitchen. “How’s your shirt?”
Now that the Ray-Bans were on top of the hat, Sam had full access to those green eyes, twinkling with suggestion. Blush number one hundred and one. “I probably ruined it.” She nervously wiped an invisible piece of dust off the countertop. “I didn’t realize it was so…um…thin.”
“It was sheer. But I’m not complaining.”
The sexy smile was back. This woman was a master. A black belt flirter. Sam wracked her brain for the lowest belt. White? Invisible? That’s what she was.
“So what are you going to do first?”
Alex explained all the work on tap for the next few days and then asked if Sam had any questions. Before Sam could answer, her phone vibrated with a text and they both looked down.
Tell her I said hi and to take her tank off ;)
With a pained groan, Sam snatched the phone.
Alex wore an amused smile.
“Yep. Well, uh, I’ll let you get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Sam spent the next couple of hours lurking near whichever window afforded her the best view of a certain brunette. At 10:09 a.m., the tank came off, revealing the red sports bra underneath. She pulled out her phone, needing to tell someone about this glorious view.
The tank’s off. I repeat, the tank is off.
Sam’s phone rang immediately.
“Fuck a duck, if you love me at all, you’re sending a picture,” Jade said.
“I am not taking a picture.”
“Why not? Just go outside and video the action, catch her sweating and straining with a shovel or something. Wait! We’ll FaceTime, and she won’t know we’re FaceTiming. Tell her you want to video the work, or some shit like that.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Just do it. You owe me.”
“Why do I owe you?”
“Do I have to remind you about the time you got caught half naked at that party, and I had to convince a photographer not to publish the photo?”
Jade had her on that one. Three years ago, Sam had attended a party at a co-star’s house, and everyone had started skinny-dipping around midnight. Sam had been on her fourth beer, which meant she was practically asleep. Brian, her now ex-boyfriend, had convinced her to go topless and get in the pool. Little did anyone realize the paparazzi were just beyond the fence. It was not a good night for Two-Beer Betty, who ended up on a fuchsia floatie, tits up, mouth open, snoring. The picture was hall of shame worthy. Fuchsia was not Sam’s color.
“Okay, I’ll try. But I think that’s a manager’s job anyway, to keep bad things out of the press.”
“That’s above and beyond the call of duty, my friend. In fact, I should get a raise. Remind me to give me a raise.”
“What’d you say?” Sam asked, unable to concentrate because Alex had picked up a large landscape rock and was carrying it across the yard, her lean muscles rippling with the effort. If this were Victorian England, Sam would be whipping out a handheld fan, vigorously waving it back and forth in front of her face to cool off.
“I said I’m giving myself a raise.”
“Okay,” Sam said dreamily.
Outside, the action escalated. Goddamn, Alex did have a shovel, and with every thrust into the earth, Sam pictured her thrusting somewhere else.
“She looks so good right now.” Sam gripped the windowsill for support. “You should see her.”
“I’m trying, but you won’t cooperate.”
“You know how some women have abs of steel?”
“All the women of my
dreams do.”
Sam had gone quiet, staring longingly into the yard.
“Are you drooling?”
She did a quick swipe at her chin. “No drool. Yet. What did you want me to do?”
“I’m gonna hang up, and then I’m gonna call you back on FaceTime. You’re gonna walk outside and let me see this woman. Do it!”
“All right, calm down.” Sam hung up and answered when her phone buzzed. “I’m not sure about this. What if she catches us? I will fucking die from embarrassment.”
“She’ll never suspect. Just go.”
Sam began to walk toward the patio doors. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She heard an “Ahem,” and looked down at Jade. “What?”
“Ahem.”
“Ahem, what?” Sam asked, exasperated. She looked around and her eyes landed on the swear jar. “I don’t have one.” There was no room in Sam’s tight shorts for dollar bills. “Besides, you owe for that little fuck a duck comment earlier. We’ll just call it a wash.” She headed outside.
Alex, who was shoveling dirt around the recently installed boulder, straightened when Sam walked over. “Hey there, what’s up?”
“I just wanted to, um, video the progress.” Sam’s hands were shaking.
“Jesus Christ, stop shaking,” Jade whispered.
Sam coughed to cover up Jade’s voice, taking a quick peek at Alex to see if she was on to them. So far, so good. It appeared their ruse was working. She made a play of moving the phone from side to side, narrating to make it more believable. “Here is my backyard before my fabulous makeover. This is Alex, my landscaper.”
Alex’s wave made the vein in her bicep pop.
The vascular display distracted Sam, and she lost her train of thought. Would that vein pop out if Alex were, say, leaning over Sam, while they were in bed? Naked?
She refocused and continued her monologue. “I’m getting new gardens, and, ah, a new outdoor kitchen, and um…” This was not her finest improv. And to top it off, Jade kept grousing about the phone moving too much. “Well, that’s it I guess.” Sam put the phone down. “I have to go to work. Same time tomorrow?”
#CassiNova Page 7