“Yeah?” Hunter asked, her eyes dancing. God, Sam loved it when those eyes danced. Little was more appealing.
“Yeah. And I have to tell you, it’s the best feeling. Being with you like this.”
Hunter good and kissed Sam one last time before walking confidently back to her room to prep for work. Sam lingered in bed a few moments longer, reveling in the eventful morning, because it was quite possibly the best one she’d ever had.
*
“Hey, Sammie,” Brooklyn said, perched on the corner of her desk. “Mal just texted that she’s on her way back from a consultation and wants to have a meeting. Do you have time?”
Samantha glanced at the clock. “Uh, yeah. I have a ton of little loose ends in the air, but I could sacrifice a half hour. Speaking of time, did you turn in the hours you spent on the Dawson umbrella thing? I need to bill them this week.”
“I did.” She surveyed Sam’s desk and located a sheet of paper in her stacking trays. “Right here. See? You look a little tired.”
She grinned. Uh-huh. That’s right I do. And then sobered for Brooklyn’s sake. “Just not a lot of sleep last night. Tossing and turning. So much of that.” Not a lie. There had been some tossing. And definitely some turning. Mmm-hmm, the turning had been world class, in fact.
“Maybe you should knock off early today. You’ve been staying late quite a bit.”
Samantha blew out a breath. “I wish I could, Brooks. It’s all the administrative stuff lately with the new accounts. It generally always falls to me, in addition to the books and the invoices and the benefits red tape. There’s just been a lot to juggle.”
“What can we do to help?” Hunter asked, sitting on the arm of that hard couch. Sam turned to Hunter. As her eyes settled, she felt a rush of happiness so swift that she took a minute to answer the question.
“Um…just back me up when I say I need it. And run Mallory interference when she starts asking for projections before I’ve even had a chance to get started on them. She’s been extra eager lately. I think she’s feeling the pressure, too. We now have too much business, which is good and bad.”
Brooklyn turned to Hunter. “We need a plan. I’ll stage some sort of screaming distraction and you tackle Mal from the side.”
Hunter nodded. “Tackle Mallory. Got it.”
Sam swiveled in her chair and held up one finger. “Tackling could make her mad.”
“Mad Mallory is not my favorite Mallory,” Brooklyn said.
“I agree,” Hunter added. “She gets very quiet and freakishly smart when she’s mad, and it scares me.”
Brooklyn pointed at Hunter in mystification. “Whoa. She’s funny today.”
“She is,” Sam agreed, catching Hunter’s eye in a private exchange.
Brooklyn turned to Hunter. “Why are you funny? Did you have a good night last night? And the insinuation that you’re picking up on is there on purpose, so don’t sidestep it.”
Hunter smiled shyly, and it was adorable. Hunter Blair was actually shy. “I did. I had an amazing night last night. Off the charts.”
“Alert! Usually you just shrug and say it was cool. I’ll need details.”
Hunter’s eyes brushed Sam’s again and widened briefly. “I cannot supply them. I don’t kiss and tell.” With that, she took off into the kitchen.
“Since when?” Brooklyn said, following after her.
Hunter refilled her coffee cup. “Since I don’t know. Maybe I’m super mature now and want to give my after-hours activities the respect they deserve.”
The loft door slid open and Mallory appeared, attaché in hand. “What after-hours activities? What have I missed?”
Sam looked on, not knowing quite what to do here. While it was kind of fun sharing this secret with Hunter for a little while, it also felt wrong to blatantly withhold information from their two best friends, the people they simply didn’t keep things from.
“Hunter’s sexy-time activities,” Brooklyn told Mallory. “She had some kind of torrid night last night and won’t dish a single detail, which is breaking some sort of sexy-detail code. There should be at least one sexy detail. I might have to picket the office in detail strike.”
Mallory’s gaze swiveled to Samantha in alarmed assumption. And she was pretty sure her own deer-in-headlights facial expression answered Mallory’s question in spades. Damn it. For the love of Jean Chatzky! Okay, there were too many dynamics to keep straight here, and Sam wanted to hide under her desk like a dog in a thunderstorm.
Mallory saved the day and turned to Brooklyn. “As much as I want to help you in your Hunter shakedown, because let’s face it, those are fun, I was hoping for everyone’s input on a couple of things.”
Samantha didn’t hesitate to run in this new direction. Diversion was her friend. She was clinging to it with all she had. “Happy day! Kitchen meeting? I love kitchen meetings. Let’s do snacks. More truffles came in the mail.”
“Kitchen snacks it is,” Mal echoed.
Coffee was poured, laptops retrieved, and Samantha set out a tin of MollyDollys, her favorite truffles in the entire world. The Savvy girls assembled around the rectangular kitchen table. Samantha returned to her customary spot, as there was no need to draw any more attention, and waited patiently for what Mallory had to say.
“First of all, ever since the Foster projects have returned, we’ve had a lot on our plate. The new accounts that were meant to replace the business need just as much attention, small or not.”
“Agreed,” Brooklyn said.
“But the workload is a bit unrealistic and I think we could benefit from a little extra help.”
Sam sighed. “I get where you’re coming from, but the last time we brought in a temp, it was disastrous. He stared at Brooklyn’s boobs all day, and I swear to you he systematically stuffed half of our office supplies down his pants by the end of the first week.”
“Sticky Eddie. No one’s objectified me that way since,” Brooklyn said with false nostalgia.
Mallory raised a finger. “Agreed that Eddie was sent from Satan, but he did fill in a gap and gave Samantha a break on some of the administrative stuff, which let her devote her time to what she’s really good at. Managing our money.”
Hunter nodded and snagged a truffle. “So what are you proposing?”
“What if we took on an intern?” Mallory asked. “Some enterprising young person who’s trustworthy, smart, and looking to gain some experience?”
Well, that was an idea. Samantha turned it over in her head. “I’d be all for it. It’d require a little training, but I like the idea of taking on someone who could not only help us, but would be excited to be here. I could check with the local high schools and colleges.”
Brooklyn sat forward as an idea seemed to take root. It was what made her awesome. “Hear me out. What would you guys think about offering the position to Ashton?” Jessica and Brooklyn’s next-door neighbor, Ashton, had been through a rough time recently when her mother was admitted to rehab. In fact, she’d moved in with Jessica until her mom was deemed fit. But through it all, she’d shown herself to be a remarkably great kid.
“Do you think she’d be into it?” Sam asked.
“She’s looking for a part-time job now that she’s sixteen. What’s great about it is that she doesn’t need the money. Her mom’s loaded, and Ashton has a sizable allowance, but she wants to get out there and work, gain some experience in the world for her college applications. She’s enrolled in the co-op program this next year at her high school, so she’d receive course credit for the hours she pulls. She just needs a place that will sponsor her study.”
Mallory smiled. “Personally, I think that sounds like a really great fit. You’ve said she’s smart, right?”
“An A student.”
“All in favor?” Mallory asked. Four hands shot into the air. “Perfect.” She turned to Brooklyn. “Have a talk with her and see if she’s interested.”
“Will do.”
“Next up, I’d
like to experiment with using a newswire to reach more of the specific trade publications for Serenity. I took a conference call with Emory Owen, who owns Global News Wire, and she’s put together some agency prices for us.” She passed the breakdown of the agreement to Samantha. “If you all are in agreement, I’d like to run a press release with them on a local circuit and see what kind of attention we get.”
Sam studied the numbers. “This seems doable. It’s the kind of account that could get picked up for some feature stories.”
“Especially if we frame it like the ad,” Brooklyn added. “A day-in-the-life kind of thing. The New York woman and trends associated with her is a popular angle. That shoot is Thursday, by the way. So I’ll be on location all day.”
Mallory scribbled the information into her day planner, totally old school. “Got it down. So, is the newswire a go?”
“I think it’s a great strategy for them,” Brooklyn said.
“And the budget can withstand it, so I say go for it. Hunter?” Sam turned to her, in all-business mode, forcing back down again the little surge of energy she got when she looked at Hunter.
“Yeah, it’s a go for me.” Her eyes trailed over Sam briefly before shifting focus to Mallory. “I’ll shoot you a photo to go with it.”
“Which was going to be my next question,” Mallory said in amusement.
Hunter shrugged. “I’m simply too good at my job. Some might even say I’m hot stuff.”
Samantha bit the inside of her cheek to hold back the laughter.
Mallory closed her notebook. “And on that very strange note, I think we’re finished, unless anyone else has something to discuss.”
Brooklyn’s gaze landed on Hunter. “Maybe we could close the meeting with a sexy story from last night.” And just like that, Samantha and Mallory hightailed it from the table like the thing had just caught fire.
“Lots to do,” Sam called over her shoulder.
“Need coffee,” Mallory tossed out. “I’m gonna head to Starbucks. They love me over there. They yell my name like Norm on Cheers. Can I get anyone anything?”
“A reprieve from Brooklyn?” Hunter asked, kissing Brooklyn’s cheek as she rounded the table to her desk.
Mallory smiled sweetly. “Tall order, but I’ll ask around.”
Brooklyn sank her chin into her hand, alone at the table. “Defeat at the battle of Hunter’s Love Life. One for the history books.”
“You can’t win ’em all,” Mallory said as she slid the door to the loft closed on her way out.
The office fell into quiet as the three of them went back to work. Hunter checked her email and, after a few quick exchanges with their candy store client, glanced at her phone, disheartened that she still had no response to her texts to Kevin. She’d call her mom later in the afternoon and check up on things back home. Her recent visit had weighed on her mind a lot lately and had her heart heavy. She needed to make it a habit to get home more. Once a month.
Just then her phone tickled her hand in vibration as a message came in. Samantha.
Dinner tomorrow?
She grinned and typed back. You asking me on a date?
I am. Will you, Hunter Blair, go out on a date with me tomorrow night? An official one.
Hunter took her time answering. But when she did, it was I’m thinking about it.
Across the room, Samantha glanced at the readout on her phone and swiveled around, her mouth open in exaggerated outrage. Adorable.
“Yes,” Hunter mouthed and nodded, which prompted the smallest of smiles onto Sam’s face. Hunter turned back to her laptop in a state of happy anticipation. Yep, she was a goner.
*
Samantha checked her reflection in the mirror, turning to the side to give herself one final pass. She’d selected a yellow sundress for their night out and chose to go with her hair down, leaving it wavy enough to carry some body. Not too fancy, but at the same time, cute enough. At least, she hoped so.
As she applied a touch of that shimmery lip gloss, her stomach fluttered. How was it that she was actually nervous right now? This was Hunter she was talking about, who she’d known for years and who lived just across the living room. But it was the good kind of nervous, the excited kind that stemmed from looking forward to something.
When she made her way into the living room, she took note of the soft jazz that played from the speaker in the corner. She found Hunter there with her back turned, staring out the window. The sky was already dark and the lights from the city twinkled back at them. It was a dreamy visual: Hunter standing there in front of the New York City skyline.
Because she couldn’t resist, she came up behind Hunter, slipped her arms around her waist, and held on for a moment, enjoying the music and the scenery. Finally, she offered her a tiny squeeze. “Ready to go?”
Hunter turned, and presented her with a small wrapped box. “For you.”
“You got me a first-date gift?”
“Open it.”
And of course she did, only to find herself holding what appeared to be the box for a miniature jigsaw puzzle with a series of square roots on the cover.
Hunter leaned in and pointed at the box. “Apparently you match the numbers with their square roots.”
Samantha stared at the puzzle, floored. “You bought me a math gift?”
“Yes.”
“Most people would have gone with flowers.” Samantha shook her head in wonder. It was the most thoughtful gesture, a puzzle tailored to her. The gift had her feeling special, like some sort of schoolgirl on prom night. It was silly, but at the same time, wildly okay with her.
“Would you have rather had the flowers?”
“I would have rather had this any day of the week to flowers. You gave me square roots.”
“I did.”
And that was when she noticed Hunter’s look. As in, really noticed her. A sleeveless white shell accentuated with a long silver necklace that caught the light and slender black pants. Her hair was pulled up on the sides, but flowed down around her shoulders. She was soft and sleek all in one.
“You’re beautiful,” she said to Hunter. “And you’re my date.”
Hunter grinned. “And where are you taking me?”
“To dinner at STK. And then wherever you want.”
Hunter looked skyward in a picturesque display. “Oh, the possibilities.”
The restaurant was located in the Meatpacking District, and because of its trendy reputation, was already bustling when they arrived just in advance of their eight p.m. reservation. Once they were shown to their table, Samantha knew she had made the right choice in requesting rooftop seating. The view of the city from their table was breathtaking, as was the outdoor space decorated with strings of small light bulbs that glowed dimly around them.
“How’s the book?” Sam asked as the two glasses of wine they’d ordered were delivered to their table.
“You’re not going to believe this, but I’m actually into it. Who’d have thought?”
“It’s a classic for a reason, you know.”
“I should listen to you more often maybe,” Hunter said.
Sam held up a hand, pretending to look for her phone. “Wait. Can you say that again? I should probably get an audio recording or something.”
“It’s a self-destructing sentence by design, so no go.”
“You’re full of all sorts of hidden talents.”
Hunter sat back in her chair and took a sip from her wineglass. “You don’t even know how many yet. But there’s time for me to show you.” The blush was upon Sam instantly and the heat that comment inspired was not far behind. “This is a really good dress, by the way,” Hunter said. “Really good.”
Samantha glanced down at the yellow sundress. “It is?”
Hunter shook her head ever so slightly. “You have no idea.”
Dinner arrived, and it was quite possibly some of the best food in the solar system. Truffle mac and cheese, garlic chicken kebabs, and the most refreshing
pear salad. When they’d finished their meal, they walked the perimeter of the rooftop, enjoying the perfect evening temperature and the slight breeze that tickled their shoulders and lifted their hair. And that was kind of how Samantha felt in that moment: lifted up. The moon shone brightly in its near fullness, casting a pale glow over the city beneath them. Sam basked in how romantic it all felt, as though the night had been designed especially for them.
“We need a photo,” she suggested.
Without missing a beat, Hunter produced her phone and framed them expertly with the lights of the restaurant accenting them beautifully. At the last second, Hunter kissed Sam’s cheek, and the resulting image was quite frankly, stunning. Staring down at it, Sam felt a chill move through her at just how perfect they looked together, how right it all felt.
“So where to now?” she asked, Hunter’s hand in hers. Samantha was all for letting Hunter choose, but she didn’t want the night to end.
Hunter turned her head and regarded Sam out of the corner of her eye. “Wanna walk?”
“I would love to walk with you.” It was Friday night, so each bar, restaurant, or club they passed was overflowing with patrons and music. It was a lively night on the streets of the Meatpacking District, and Hunter held firmly to Samantha’s hand as they walked. The solidity of it was nice.
They paused in front of a club with a crazy techno beat blaring from inside. “You could dance on top of a bar,” Hunter offered over the music. “That could be fun. You’d make a ton.”
Sam glanced up at her. “Later.”
They walked a bit more and paused in front of a bluesy-looking cocktail spot.
“Oh, a little dive bar. I love little dive bars. Wanna?” Hunter asked. The place looked like a mixture of a lot of things, which carried appeal.
“Sounds like something I can get behind.” Samantha studied the sign. “And hey, it’s open mic tonight. You know what that means?”
“Semi-depressing people are going to line up to feel like rock stars as we watch?”
Samantha swatted her arm. “Or we get to see the next Lady Gaga before she’s Gaga. This is New York, Ms. Blair.”
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