A Bet with Benefits
Page 11
“Okay, then,” she said, her voice shaking. She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, past the kitchen and away from the meal she’d prepared. It would just have to go cold. Sam would have to clean up the mess himself. She had to get out of this apartment. Sure enough, the end had come for them. She’d thought it would be tomorrow. But what was the difference? In the end, this thing with Sam was made of glimpses of happiness strung between everything else that was wrong.
She stalked into his bedroom, flipped on the light and grabbed one of her garment bags, spreading it out on the bed. She took her clothes from the closet in handfuls, tossing them in haphazardly and not caring that she was going too fast and rumpling everything. If she did this quickly enough, she and Sam wouldn’t have to speak another word to each other. That was clearly what he wanted. With her clothes gathered, she went into the bathroom, scooping up makeup and dumping it into her cosmetic bag. She avoided her own reflection in the mirror. It would be hard enough to live in her own brain tonight. She wasn’t going to give herself a visual reminder of how much she hated some of the circumstances of being Mindy Eden.
Sam appeared at the bathroom door. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”
Mindy clamped her eyes shut, wishing she could ward off the effect of his voice. “I refuse to stay if you won’t talk to me. I won’t do it.”
He stepped closer and she dared to look up into his dark eyes. “Let me tell you about Isabel. Let me tell you about everything.”
* * *
The absolute last thing Sam ever wanted to be was vulnerable. Life was easier when you played everything close to the vest. He never let anyone see his soft spots. It not only made his weaknesses easier to ignore, it made it that much more difficult for anyone to hurt him. He’d been knocked down plenty in his first eighteen or so years. He wasn’t going to intentionally invite it on himself.
But that was before Mindy started packing her things and preparing to walk out of his life.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Don’t go.”
Mindy took the armful of makeup she had and set it all back down on the bathroom countertop. “I can’t deal with the silent treatment. My dad used to do that to Sophie and my mom and me and it’s the absolute worst.”
“I know it’s bad.”
“I tried to be respectful the other night when you didn’t want to talk about what you were like as a teenager, but I can’t deal with secrets, either. I’m not expecting you to tell me everything, but I at least expect there to be some attempt at showing me the boundaries. Half of the time I feel like I’m stumbling around in the dark with you.”
Funny, but Sam felt the exact same way about Mindy. And not just half of the time. All the time. “What do you want to know?”
“For starters, I want to know about Isabel. I want to know why you didn’t tell me about her. I also want to know about this fundraiser you’re hosting. You haven’t said a peep about that to me.”
Wow, Isabel had really gotten her mouth running. “She jumped the gun if she told you about that. I haven’t committed to the fundraiser. And it’s all intertwined. It’s all connected.”
“Okay, then. Just tell me. You can trust me, Sam. I promise.”
Sam took Mindy’s hand. “Am I going to ruin dinner if I tell you about Isabel? And my mom? It’s not a short story.”
“I couldn’t care any less about dinner right now, Sam. If you want to share even the tiniest bit of yourself with me, I’ll take it.”
Had Sam left Mindy feeling like she was scrounging for crumbs? That had never been his intention. “Okay. Let’s sit.” He led her over to the bed, where they both settled in on the edge. He wasn’t sure where to start—he had never, ever told anyone about his mom, except for the woman at the ALS Foundation, and that was still only the broadest of strokes. He hadn’t told her about losing his dad as a direct result of his mother’s illness. He hadn’t told her how his entire family, the only family he’d ever known, completely fell apart.
“Isabel is three years older than me. We were always close, but we became more so when our mom was diagnosed with ALS.”
“Lou Gehrig’s disease?”
“Yes. Exactly. I was fourteen. Isabel was just finishing high school. Our mom was young. Only thirty-nine. She’d been losing strength in her hands and had a hard time holding on to even the simplest of things, like the handle on a coffeepot. When her voice started to change, a neighbor suggested she see a doctor.” Just getting that much of his story out felt like a huge accomplishment, especially as visions of his past shuttled through his mind—the morning his mom dropped the coffee carafe on the kitchen floor and it shattered. The day their parents gathered his sister and him in the living room to deliver the terrible news, trying to frame it as something they would all get through. And, ultimately, the sacrifice their father decided to make to save his children’s future.
“Sam, I am so sorry. You mentioned at the wedding that she passed away when you were still a teenager.”
“She lived a little more than three years after that. So I was seventeen. It was halfway through my senior year of high school. It was not easy, especially since I was the only one around to care for her at that point. Isabel was away at college.”
“What about your dad? Was he not a part of your life? You don’t talk about him, either.”
This was the cruel twist of fate in Sam’s life story. In a way, his mother’s disease claimed his father, too. “He died in a car accident almost a year before our mom passed. Went right into a guardrail on his way to work. But it wasn’t an accident. He took his own life. I know this because he left me a note and told me he was doing it for the life insurance money. He did it for Isabel and me.” Sam heard his own voice crack, and he wasn’t sure which was worse—the actual sound or the way Mindy’s expression morphed into profound sadness. “The medical bills had piled up and I’d gotten early acceptance to Stanford. Isabel was already at Columbia and had applied for law school. He told me to take care of my mom, pay off the house and the bills, and to get myself to Stanford. He also told me to burn the note. So that’s what I did.”
Sam cast his sights up to the ceiling, fighting back the tears that were welling in his eyes. He hadn’t truly broken down since the day his mom passed away. He’d told himself that he couldn’t afford to show emotion. He’d never felt weaker than on that day, not even on the day when his dad had died. That day had been more about shock than anything.
Mindy scooted closer and pulled him into her arms, cradling the back of his head with her hand and letting him rest his cheek on her shoulder. She held him so tight it felt like she might squeeze the life out of him, and maybe that was for the best—the only times he’d truly felt alive in recent history were when he was with her. And she was going to leave tomorrow and there was nothing to be done about that. She’d never been anything less than crystal clear about her priorities—family first, job and career a close second and Sam a distant third. Not that he could blame her for her choices. Except for selling the Mercer to her for a dollar, he’d done nothing but put his own business front and center. But he had his reasons. Money bought security. It bought permanence in a world where everything is fleeting. He wouldn’t apologize for needing that.
“I wish I knew what to say.” Mindy sniffled and he felt the dampness of her tears on his nose when he raised his head and kissed her cheek. “I had no idea. That’s the saddest story I think I have ever heard.”
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, Min. I really don’t. It was a long time ago and everyone has a sad story, don’t they? I’m no different than anyone else.”
“But you keep it all bottled up inside. It’s not good for you. And the only support system you have is your sister, and you hid her, too.”
“Are you trying to make me feel better? Because it isn’t working.”
Mindy cracked a small smile and laughed
quietly. “Sorry. My bedside manner isn’t the best.” She took one of his hands and pulled it into her lap. With her other hand, she combed her fingers through his hair.
It was such a sweet and tender gesture, it made Sam want to say that he never ever wanted Mindy to leave. But he knew for a fact that if he were going to scare Mindy, that was the way to do it. She didn’t want to be tied down. Her own mother had told him as much. “So now you know why I clammed up the other night. As for the fundraiser, they’ve asked me to host, stepping in for the original sponsor. I’ve always been a big donor, but I don’t want to be the public face of the event. I just don’t think I can do that. I told them I’d give them the money, but I’m not sure about the rest of it. I’d have to make a speech and really put myself out there. You know it’s more my inclination to hide in the shadows.”
“But you’ve attended the fundraiser before? Listened to other people give those speeches?”
“Yes. And they’re gut-wrenching sometimes. So sad.”
Mindy nodded patiently and Sam suspected he knew where she was headed with this. “But does it make you feel less alone when you hear other people tell their stories?”
“Well, yeah. I guess.”
“So maybe it’s your turn, Sam. If you shared your story, it would be another way of giving back. It might help other people deal with their own circumstances or at least come to terms with a loss like the one you experienced.”
“That was exactly the pitch the foundation made to me. But I just don’t know if I can get up on that stage and talk about all of that.”
“If you can tell me, you can tell anybody.”
He wanted to tell her that she was the exception in all of this. She was the one he could trust. “That’s my point. We know each other and it was still hard. Plus, I’d have to write the speech and it’s only a few days away. That’s not my area of expertise at all.”
“Then let me help you. You can practice on me. I made a great speech at Sophie’s wedding. The truth is that you and I make a great team and I think you should let me help you.”
Sam wasn’t sure what this meant for their relationship, but right now, he wasn’t willing to push for anything more than time with her. “What about your sisters? What about the bet? We’re going to end up spending time together if we do this.”
“As far as I’m concerned, I’m helping a friend. Nothing else.”
“So you really think I should do it?”
“I think it could help you heal. And that’s important. So yes, I think you should do it.”
“Okay, then. I’ll call the foundation first thing tomorrow.”
Mindy looked at him, scanning his face with her beautiful eyes. “The only other thing we haven’t talked about is that bit about me breaking your heart. Does your sister hate me?”
“If she does, at least you know how I feel. Sophie and Emma hate me. I know that.”
“I don’t know that hate is the right word. And maybe the fundraiser will help to change that. I can tell them about it and get them to buy tickets.”
Oh, no. It was bad enough to have one member of the Eden family feeling sorry for him. “Don’t do that. Please, don’t. That’ll just make me more nervous anyway.”
“Okay. Okay. I won’t say a thing.” She stared down at her own hands for a moment. “You didn’t really feel like I broke your heart, did you? Not really, right?”
Sam had spent more than enough time this evening tearing open his soul and letting Mindy see it all. He didn’t think he could take any more. This was a talk for another day. Another time. If she wanted to have the conversation. “Heartbroken is such a melodramatic word. Disappointed might be more accurate.”
Mindy nodded slowly, taking it all in. “Okay. That makes me feel better. I would never want to do that.”
Sam would cling to that much from this moment forward. Even if it ended up happening, he would at least know she hadn’t wanted to do it. “Are you still going to leave tonight? Or can I at least convince you to stay until morning?”
Mindy pulled her legs up onto the bed and curled into his chest. “For right now, I’m not going anywhere.”
Ten
The morning after Sam’s big confession, Mindy got up early and reluctantly moved her things out of his apartment. Their week together had not been what she’d expected. She’d thought this might be their last gasp, or at least an escape from her everyday life. To her great surprise, they’d grown closer. She’d seen sides of Sam she’d never known.
But she was hesitant to push for more with Sam. Was one week enough to change everything? She couldn’t imagine a scenario in which it would be enough to convince Sophie and Emma to change their minds about him. And if Sam couldn’t be folded into her family life, he couldn’t be a real part of her love life. No matter the problems with her sisters, they were the two people she could always count on. They stood by her. More than anything, they loved her.
Love was looming large in Mindy’s mind. Was that what she was feeling with Sam? She wanted to think so, but was a week enough time to fall in love? There was also the question of how he felt about her. He’d expressed affection in a million unspoken ways, but the words had not passed his lips. There had been no I love you, and as brave as Mindy could be, she couldn’t be the first to put that out there. Not as the person who’d long questioned whether she was lovable at all.
Standing on the sidewalk outside Sam’s apartment, this game of goodbye was a sad one, one in which she was afraid to bring up anything about their relationship. It was easier to talk about the excuses they had to see each other. “You’ll call the foundation today? Tell them you’ll make a speech at the fundraiser?” she asked.
“As long as you’ll be my date. Isabel is going to be there, but I’ve spent so many years leaning on her. It’s difficult for her, too. I need to know that you will be there for me.” He had his sunglasses on again, hiding behind them, leaving her with only his words.
“I’ll be there. And don’t forget your speech,” Mindy said, a transparent attempt at stealing a few more precious seconds. “I promised I would help you with that.”
“At least let me practice on you. Maybe tomorrow night?”
There was the glimmer she needed—the promise of time with him. Something to look forward to. “Yes. That sounds perfect.”
Fighting sadness, Mindy kissed him, but she made it quick. She didn’t want a tear to roll down her cheek and cross her lips. She didn’t want him to know just how melancholy she was about leaving. With her driver waiting at the curb, this wasn’t the time for an extended goodbye anyway. And maybe that was for the best.
Clay rushed Mindy off to Eden’s, and she spent the entire car ride fretting over how to handle the Sophie and Emma situation. She was in deeper with Sam. There would be no denying that. Mindy’s trust issues with him were fading away. But what would it take for Sophie and Emma to trust that Sam might be good for her? Under the burden of the silly bet, it would be next to impossible. They would use any excuse to keep Mindy at Eden’s. Mindy had to convince them to drop the whole thing. Sophie would be the hardest nut to crack.
About an hour after Mindy arrived at the office, Sophie trailed in, so radiant and relaxed it was like she walked on air. “Knock, knock. I’m back.” She plopped down on the chair and grinned from ear to ear at Mindy.
“I take it you had a good time?”
“The best. The absolute best. The villa we rented was unbelievable. Right on the water. Private pool. We had the most amazing chef, who cooked for us morning, noon and night. We snorkeled. We spent hours on the beach every morning, then a nap in the afternoon, and that, of course, led to—”
“I don’t need to hear every last detail.” Mindy not only didn’t want to hear about what came after nap time, she couldn’t help but be a bit annoyed. She may have had an incredible week with Sam, but it was all in h
iding. No matter how good things were, it hadn’t been out in the open. They weren’t free.
“Are you jealous?” Sophie grimaced. “We were on our honeymoon. I don’t know what else you expect me to talk about.”
“No. I just don’t need to know the blow-by-blow. Literally.” Of course, she was at least a little bit envious. She was only human, and she wanted the things that Sophie had in her life—love and commitment.
Emma poked her head into Mindy’s office. “Are you guys meeting without me?”
“I just got here.” Sophie hopped up out of her seat and Mindy walked out from behind her desk, so the three of them could embrace. “Bali was amazing, but I’m happy to be home. I’m happy we’re all back together.”
“How was England?” Mindy asked Emma while returning to her place behind her desk.
Emma perched on the empty chair and Sophie sat again. “Well, let’s just say I spent a fair amount of time feeling sick.” Emma’s eyes darted back and forth between Mindy and Sophie.
Oh, my God.
“Wait a second,” Sophie blurted. “Are you?”
Emma nodded. “I’m pregnant.”
Sophie squealed. Mindy was excited, but that feeling of being left behind also managed to crop up somewhere in the middle of her reaction. Once again, her sisters had their personal lives on track while she was making only small strides in figuring hers out.
“I took a test while we were there,” Emma said. “I thought about texting you guys the news, but I didn’t want to interrupt the honeymoon, and Mindy’s always working, anyway. I thought I would wait until I could tell you both in person.”
“When are you due?” Mindy asked.
Emma shook her head. “I don’t know, exactly. I just made a doctor’s appointment. This wasn’t planned at all, but we did have a condom malfunction and that was all it took, apparently.”
“What does Daniel think about all of this?” Sophie asked.
“He’s so thrilled. He already bought a stuffed animal for the baby. A little bulldog that looks just like Jolly.” Emma’s cheeks blushed bright pink. “And his mom is warming to me now. A baby changes everything.”