by Len Webster
It took over a month for him to get her number at a frat party.
But that was the night she left with some guy from her management class. Apparently, nothing happened, but Walter had been pissed the entire night. Now she was in Southport, North Carolina. She had rushed past him from Chino’s angrily. Her mother had apparently threatened her, and she had to leave. Before he could even ask her if she was okay, she ran to her dorm. Walter was annoyed when he found out Landon and Alex had taken her to her hometown. He could have taken her, but she had left before he could offer.
Though he had never made his move, they had had spent a lot of time with each other at the parties they found themselves in, his visits to Chino’s, and between classes when they saw each other on campus. Walter had never had an issue with girls, but with Savannah, he struggled.
Struggled to treat her the way he did with other hoop girls.
But he learned quickly that Savannah Peters wasn’t a hoop girl.
After a day of classes and getting ready for finals, he was ready to lay in bed. Tomorrow, he had an early practice he couldn’t be late for now that Landon was captain. He was determined to leave a legacy, and Walter complied so that his best friend could make his name in Duke and NCAA history.
Earlier, Landon had texted him that they were on their way back to Duke and that he had decided to spend the rest of the day with his girlfriend, staying at her dorm. It meant Walter had the dorm room all to himself. He could text some girl who was always up for a booty call, but he wasn’t feeling it. His dry spell had lasted for months, and he was frustrated with himself.
A knock on his door had him groaning. He couldn’t entertain any of the girls who still came over for Landon. Though he was a taken man, girls still came over, hoping he would cheat on his girl. The girls were crazy because they didn’t see how in love he was with his girlfriend. Sighing, he got up from his desk chair and made his way over to the door. As he twisted the handle, he thought about how he couldn’t wait until he moved into his new apartment for senior year. He couldn’t wait for more room, and the privacy he craved.
Pulling the door open, he froze in surprise at the sight of Savannah. She was wearing a white summer dress. He always had a weakness for blondes, but he was almost on his knees at the sight of her.
“Savannah.”
She brushed her hair behind her ear and smiled. “You wanna grab a drink? I gave the lovebirds our dorm room.”
That glimmer in her eyes had him grinning. Something in her smile told him that tonight was more than just a drink. And they both knew it.
“Let’s get you that drink, babe. Be prepared to be up all night.”
Her smile deepened. “Oh, I plan on it. You better be prepared, too.”
“Been waiting a long time for you, Sav,” he said as he stepped out of his dorm room, closed the door, and pressed his palm to her neck.
“You’ve kept me waitin’ far too long, Walter,” she whispered.
His other hand steadied her jaw. “Sorry, babe.”
Just when he thought she’d kiss him, she pulled back and grasped his hand. “Let’s go get that drink,” she said and pulled his hand, leaving his dorm room behind them.
As he glanced down at her holding his hand, Walter grinned. Even though he didn’t get a kiss, he was sure there was more in store for them tonight.
And fuck if he didn’t feel lucky.
Now
“It’s Savannah, but y’all know that. Leave me a message!”
It had been days since she left his apartment. Days since Walter fucked up and told her she wasn’t worth it. Days since he lied and told her he was done drinking before he poured himself a drink behind her back minutes later.
Walter had fucked up again. It was all he ever did with Savannah. He had called her nonstop, but it was clear he broke her heart. Hurting her was a pain he couldn’t tolerate. A pain he couldn’t breathe through.
A pain that had him drinking two bottles of whiskey after he returned to his apartment when she pushed him out of the elevator. Once he was back inside his apartment, he erupted in a fit of rage. He broke furniture and mirrors. His apartment was a mess, but he didn’t care because he found the bottles he didn’t throw out.
Bottles that took no time at all to empty down his throat and land shattered on the hardwood floor. Bottles that stacked. Bottles that littered his apartment. As he threw back another mouthful of whiskey that no longer burned or numbed him, he tried calling her again.
It was Monday, so she would be up.
She would be at work.
He inhaled through his nostrils and held his phone to his ear as he listened to the ringing. But like his other forty calls in the past few days, he reached her voicemail.
“It’s Savannah, but y’all know that. Leave me a message!”
Beep.
Walter threw the half-empty bottle across his apartment, hearing it shatter against a wall. Violent sounds he was sure her voicemail recorded.
He had to try. She had tried for so long for him. He wouldn’t give up on her. He might have before, and she was doing it now, but he wouldn’t. So long as one of them didn’t give up, there was hope.
They were meant to be.
He was sure of it.
“Savannah, baby, come on. It’s been days. How long are you going to keep torturing me?” Walter pleaded. “I made a mistake. I lied. I’m sorry. I promise, I’ll get help. Just come back to New York, baby. Help me. Jesus fucking Christ, Savannah, I’m begging you. Come back to me.”
It wasn’t enough.
He knew what she needed to hear.
I love you, Savannah.
But if he was going to break, she was going to see it for herself. So Walter hung up and got up from the couch. Then he walked to his kitchen, desperate to numb the pain in his chest. Reaching the box on the counter, he opened it to find it empty. He had drunk a whole box in a matter of days. He needed more to see him through the waiting game Savannah was putting him through. Walter needed to find as many bottles of his preferred whiskey until she came to her senses and came home.
Angry with himself for not having more alcohol, he threw the box on the floor and stormed out of the kitchen. Once he reached the hallway table, he collected his keys and wallet, then shoved them in his jeans pocket. He left his apartment and made his way to the elevator, pressing the button on the panel. As he waited, he looked down at his phone to find his call history still on the screen.
Over forty goddamn calls she had ignored.
He was ready to drink the pain of losing her away. He knew when he had enough. He always did because he didn’t have a problem with alcohol.
No.
He had a problem with his girl and his broken heart. He was sure of it. Walter was fine. He didn’t have a drinking problem, and he was not an alcoholic. His issue was with Savannah Peters.
The rage from her silence ran hot through his veins. He couldn’t believe Savannah would just walk away. After everything, she just walked away. Walter couldn’t blame her, remembering all the times she stood by him as he almost drank himself to death after every game and at every party at Duke.
The ding from the elevator echoed in the hallway, and the doors parted. Walter stepped into the elevator, pressed the lobby button, and watched the doors close. He let out a sigh and tucked his phone into the pocket of his jeans as he watched the floor numbers decrease until the elevator reached its destination.
In the lobby, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and hope ignited in his chest. Walter stopped by the front desk and pulled his phone out, hoping and praying it was his girl. His heart dropped, heavy with disappointment, when he saw it was his agent calling and not Savannah.
“Mr. Vidović,” Georgio, the security guard who was a Knicks fan and a father of three sons, greeted from behind the front desk.
Georgio was probably the only employee at the Towers who Walter liked. He turned and smiled at the security guard. “What’s up, Georgio?”
> “Nothing much. You going out for the day? You need me to call you a car?”
Walter shook his head. “I’m good. I think I need some air.”
Georgio nodded. “Oh, I saw Savannah the other day. It’s been a long time since she last visited.”
Savannah.
“You did?” He closed the distance between him and the desk, slapping his palms and phone on the marble counter. “Did she say where she was going?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, sir. She left with him before I could ask.”
“Him?” Walter’s eyes widened.
Him.
There was a him.
She left with another man.
He wasn’t aware that she knew anyone in New York. She had only ever come to see him. Savannah Peters loved him. She wouldn’t leave with another man.
There isn’t another man!
I’m her man.
Savannah’s mine!
Another nod from the security guard. “They were hugging.”
“Hugging!” he violently roared.
“I thought it was a little odd since you two are back together, right? I didn’t think Savannah was the kind of girl to leave you for him.”
Him …
“Georgio, who did she leave here with?”
The security guard swallowed hard as if he were uncomfortable with telling Walter the truth. Then he let out a heavy exhale. “With Mr. Lawrence, sir.”
Mr. Lawrence.
Walter only knew one Mr. Lawrence who knew where he lived.
“Will?” His nostrils flared. “Will Lawrence?”
Then Georgio confirmed what Walter knew. “She left with your financial advisor, sir.”
Twenty-two
Will
Another slow Tuesday and another day since Savannah had returned to Vermont. In total, it had been three days, and Will didn’t know what to do with himself. After she went through TSA, he returned to his apartment, grabbed his briefcase, and took the subway to work. He couldn’t stop thinking about his last night with Savannah.
It was the best sex he had ever had, but he knew that she wasn’t his to have. He saw it in her sad blue eyes when he woke up. She might have wanted and needed Will that night, but in the morning, it all changed. He knew a future with her wasn’t his.
He lived in New York, and she lived in Montpelier.
He knew he couldn’t—and didn’t—sway her heart’s want for Walter. So Will went on, hoping she’d call, but she didn’t. And every time he thought about calling her, he hesitated. He didn’t want to disrupt her life or interrupt her while she was living the life she wanted. That, and he didn’t want to hear that she regretted their night together.
A mistake that would kill him. Saying goodbye hurt, but if she regretted their last night together, that would destroy him.
So he stayed away, his pride and heart too scared to feel the pain she could cause.
“You should call her,” Emerson said while she was still on hold with a company they had just had a meeting with.
Will looked up from the file on their next client—a merchandising company who wanted to invest in their business in order to expand. “Call her?”
His partner nodded, her face as serious as it had ever been. Then she covered the phone. “You’ve been distracted for days. Your heartbreak is actually killing me. I’m ready to uninvite you to movie night with Lisa tomorrow. And she’s looking forward to it.”
To his surprise, he laughed. “Please don’t uninvite me to movie night. You said we were watching a mystery Tom Hanks film, and I’ve been trying to decipher Lisa’s clues.”
She tilted her head. “Well, then call her.”
“We said goodbye,” he informed.
“You had sex. You didn’t say goodbye.”
He glanced around to make sure those outside their office didn’t hear. “You have a big mouth.”
His partner smirked. “From what I gather, the sex was incredible.”
There was no denying how incredible the sex with Savannah had been. It was hot, passionate, and emotional. It wasn’t just sex. He made love to her with the hope that maybe she’d wake up and tell him she wanted to make it work. But she didn’t. And that broke his heart.
“She’s gone, Emerson. It was nothing more than one night together. We both knew it. It’s over.” Then he attempted a smile to reassure her that he was okay.
Emerson frowned. “The way you look at her, Will, it was more than one night to you.”
Will shook his head, dismissing his partner’s hope. “She’s in love with someone else. I can’t do that to her. And I can’t do that to us since we work for him. It’s better off this way.”
“I don’t think it is,” Emerson said as she turned her attention to her computer. “Ah, yes, Mr. Hanson. I’m returning your call.”
Will looked down at the constellations mug and handmade card on his desk that Savannah and Miller got him. The ache in his chest grew. He missed Savannah. Missed her smile and her presence. Missed her touch and the way she felt in his arms. Missed coming home from work to her in his apartment. He missed everything about Savannah, and she was states away.
Maybe his partner was right.
Maybe it had been more for her as it had been for him.
So Will picked up his phone and got up from his chair. He would have stayed at his desk, but Emerson was on the phone with their client. Ignoring his partner’s questioning gaze, he walked out of their office and headed for the roof of their building. Will smiled at his co-workers as he passed them. The roof seemed like a good idea, but then he remembered how hot it was out there with the sun high in the sky. So pushing the door open, he stepped into the cool stairwell and grasped the railing, then unlocked his phone. He inhaled a deep breath and slowly exhaled it as he called Savannah. Will pressed his lips together as he held the phone to his ear.
It rang.
And rang.
In the empty stairwell, he waited and listened. Just as he was about to hang up and return to his office, she answered.
He heard silence for a moment before she finally said, “Hi.”
“Hello, Savannah,” he greeted as the warmth of happiness exploded in his chest.
Three days. It had been three days since he last saw her. Last heard her sweet Southern drawl. Last held her as if she were his, and he was hers.
“I’m sorry,” escaped from her like a strangled breath.
Will flinched.
She’s sorry.
His heart rate spiked as his fears increased.
She has regrets.
“Work has been crazy, and I didn’t want to …” She sighed. “That’s a lie. I’ve been scared.”
“Sweetheart,” he breathed. It fell from his lips as it had when he made love to her.
She let out a light laugh. “God, it’s so good to hear your voice.”
He couldn’t agree more, and that fear that she regretted them eased within him. “It’s good to hear yours. Savannah, why have you been scared?”
“We didn’t really clarify what happened between us. And I thought you might have called, but then you didn’t and three days went by. And …” She paused, and he heard her sniffle. “I thought you regretted us.”
He felt like an idiot. An absolute idiot. He should have called her. He should have at least made sure she made it to Vermont.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered with guilt.
“It’s okay, Will. I should have called, but I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Sweetheart, you could never bother me.”
It was the truth. Savannah Peters could never bother him.
“Do you have time to talk?”
He heard the smile in her voice. “I have time—”
Then he heard the stairwell door open, and he turned to find Emerson with a remorseful expression on her face. “Will, Mr. Vidović is here,” she informed.
Her heard Savannah’s breathing hitch as his body tensed with apprehension. His c
lient had the worst timing, but there was nothing Will could do but nod at his partner. “Will you speak to him?”
“He wants to speak to both of us.”
He nodded again. “I’ll meet you in the conference room.”
Emerson attempted a reassuring smile, but he saw the fear in her eyes. “I’ll see you out there.” Then she left the stairwell, and he watched the door close.
The excitement of hearing Savannah’s voice dwindled, and she was silent. They both knew what could happen if Walter found out about them. Will could lose his job. A job he’d worked so hard for.
But she’s worth it.
And Will knew it.
He could have a million clients just like Walter Vidović, and they wouldn’t amount to how much Savannah meant to him.
“Savannah,” he said in a careful tone.
She exhaled. “He’s your client.” She sounded hurt, and that only pained him further.
“He doesn’t have to be,” he stated.
“Will, you’re a great financial advisor. No matter what has happened with us, he’s your client. And he’s an important client not just for you but for Emerson, too.”
“So what do we do?”
Savannah was silent. His anxious heartbeat was louder than her soft breaths. “You be his financial advisor.”
“And what about us?”
Without a hint of hesitation, she whispered, “I live in Vermont, Will.”
“And I live in New York.”
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“And I’m his financial advisor.”
She hummed. “You are. And I know you’re an incredible, dedicated financial advisor. You have his best interests at heart, and you should see him.”
He clenched his eyes shut, and repeated, “And what about us?”
“Was there ever really an us, Will?”
He opened his eyes, realizing that she was right. There wasn’t. Not in theory. But that didn’t mean there couldn’t be someday.
“Someday, sweetheart,” he promised as he stepped forward and grasped the door handle. “Just give me and someday a chance, Savannah.”