“Me? Why? Sure. Yes. I’d love to.”
“Thanks, man. We’re still working on an exact date, but I’ll let you know soon.”
“No problem. Just give me enough time to arrange my schedule.”
They talked for a while longer and then Grant asked, “Have you spoken to Samantha lately?”
Patrick chuckled,. “You finally told her?”
“Told her what?”
“Come on, Grant. You’ve been in love with her for years.”
Well, shit! And here I thought I was being so subtle. “You knew?” Grant asked.
Patrick all but grinned through the phone. “Everyone knew.”
“Everyone?” Grant asked, wondering how many of the Armstrong siblings had discussed his crush on their sister.
“Me. Ryan. Douglas. Trevor.”
“And you don’t mind?” Grant asked.
“I couldn’t think of a better man for our firecracker than you.”
Grant’s mouth dropped open. “Aren’t you the same guy who threatened to kill me if I ever touched her?”
“That might have been a little harsh. But man, she was fourteen.”
“Glad you changed your mind.” And I’m glad you have no idea what happened yesterday night.
“Look, she’ll always be my little sister, and I might still have to kill you if you hurt her. But she’s all grown up now and has the right to find the man she loves. As far as I’m concerned, I would love to see her with you, Grant. She’s different with you, more relaxed.”
You didn’t see her a few hours ago. “She flew up here to get away from Craig and New York. The guy really pulled a doozy on her this time. Things seemed to go well, but then everything went haywire. We had a fight and she took off.”
“Man, what are you still doing in Sandy Beach? You need to go after her.”
“You can’t be serious. She was madder than a wet hen.”
“Go after her.”
“You sure? I wanted to give her time to calm down and come to her senses.”
“This is Samantha we’re talking about. You need to go after her. Don’t give her too much time to think about things. She’ll come to the wrong conclusion.”
Yeah, I think she already has.
“Grant, you two started your relationship on the wrong foot, but you still can fix it. I thought you knew how to handle explosives.”
Grand had to chuckle at that remark, because yes, he handled explosives every day for a living so he should be able to handle one woman, even if it was a firecracker like her. But apparently women were a lot more difficult to deal with than dynamite.
Is Patrick right? Should I go after her?
Chapter 19
Samantha arrived at the photo shoot early the next morning. “Sorry, everyone.” She apologized to those in charge, and found out that news of her episode at Silueta had already made the rounds.
She tried to ignore the speculative looks and comments, concentrating instead on the shoot itself. Everything seemed to go well, until Sara Newsom stopped by and asked to speak with her alone. In her office. Panic welled in her throat and her stomach clenched tight. Was this her death blow?
Sam finished the shoot and then headed upstairs to meet with the most powerful woman in the fashion industry. Sara Newsom could make, or break, a model with just her word alone. If she pulled her goodwill from someone, that person might as well pack up her stuff and leave the city.
She entered Sara’s office with trembling legs. Once inside, her gaze fell on a family picture of friends of her sister-in-law Melissa.
Sara followed her gaze to the picture and commented, “That’s my granddaughter. Isn’t she cute?”
“Peter Shaw is your son?” Samantha asked with wide eyes. She definitely hadn’t seen that one coming.
“Yes. Do you know him?”
Samantha nodded her head, “Yes. He and Rachel are friends of my sister-in-law Melissa Armstrong, née Walter.”
Sara couldn’t hide a smile. “Well, I guess that makes us almost related, doesn’t it? Have a seat.”
What a small world we live in. Samantha’s nervousness was back, but Sara seemed to be in a much better mood. “So, how is Melissa’s baby doing?”
Samantha smiled, “He’s fabulous. He’s almost nine months old and just started crawling. His name is Emerson. I get to see him every few weeks, but Melissa sends me video clips all the time.”
“Emerson? Beautiful name. The next time you see Melissa, be sure to give her my best wishes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Samantha said.
She thought this interview was going much too smoothly, when Sara’s face took on a hard businesslike edge. Uh oh. Guess the niceties are over.
“Samantha, let’s get down to business.” Sara paused for a moment and then met and held Samantha’s eyes as she continued, “Girl, you have got to get it together if you want to stay in our industry. You are beautiful, you photograph marvelously, and you have that special something that other models try for years to mimic, but never quite get right.
“I’m here to tell you that this is your last chance. Your behavior at the Silueta event was deplorable, and many models before you who showed such rude behavior are no longer working in the city. I don’t understand what has gotten into your head.”
Samantha sat there, not dropping her eyes like she wanted to. What could she say?
Sara continued, “Your little stunt yesterday would normally have been the end of your career as far as I’m concerned.”
Her stomach sunk to her knees as she waited for Sara to continue, not daring to say a word.
“The only thing that saved you was Madison’s offer not to charge for your work. I had nothing to lose and wanted a chance to see what all of the hype about Samantha Armstrong was about.”
Sam took a mental note to buy her agent a gift. That woman sure was worth her weight in gold.
Sara paused to let the impact of her words sink in before she continued, “My photographers loved working with you today. You have a true gift for knowing what they want before they ask. That is rare in this industry.”
Samantha wanted to say something, but Sara stopped her with a gesture of her hand. “I’m not finished yet. You owe the director of Silueta an apology. There’s no way around it.”
Samantha straightened her shoulders and nodded her head. This was part one of Madison’s plan to regain her career, but it wouldn’t be easy to apologize to the man she’d so viciously attacked with her temper.
Sara’s face softened. “If you want to make it big, you need to control your temper. I know that the events at Silueta included a lying, deceiving man. Get him out of your head and quit letting him control your life. He’s not good for you. He never was.”
Sam nodded her head again. “Yes, ma’am. I’ve already seen to that. To all of your suggestions.”
“Good. Now, go home and get some rest. You did a good job today. I’ll make sure the right people hear that.”
“Thanks, ma’am, for giving me a second chance. You will not regret it.”
Sam left Sara’s office. She headed home, her shoulders drooping in defeat, with no idea of what to do. I have to learn to control my temper. I won’t get another chance. Ever. God, I wish I could talk to Grant.
But she couldn’t. She blushed at the memory of the text she’d sent him the night before, telling him that sleeping with him had been a mistake. What man would be able to forgive or forget that a woman had considered having sex with him a major mistake? Not any she knew. He probably doesn’t want to hear from me ever again. No lover. No best friend. My life officially sucks.
The day had been grueling, not only physically, but also emotionally. She got home and fell straight into bed. She didn’t think about the meeting with Sara Newsom, or the apology she needed to make. Maybe things won’t look as bad in the morning.
The next morning her mood hadn’t improved. She called Madison and made an appointment with her for the next day. So what am
I going to do today?
She could think of a million things that needed to be done, but she just didn’t have it in her today. Instead, she grabbed her purse and headed out. A little anti-frustration shopping was in order. Buying high heels always helped.
Like most women she loved shoe shopping. It had the ability to lift her spirits almost as much as being with Grant. Since I can’t have Grant, I can certainly have a new pair of shoes.
She headed to the fashion district, keeping her dark sunglasses in place as she went from store to store. She didn’t need anyone recognizing her and bursting a peaceful shopping spree.
In the fourth store, she spied the shoes that made her heart turn over and her breath catch – a pair of four-inch fashion heels with a bright orange suede heel and the toe and support of the shoe a neutral tan-colored suede. The ankle straps crisscrossed around the wearer’s ankles in shiny black leather.
Killer shoes. The kind she’d wear on a catwalk, or to a nightclub. Or to seduce Grant, if he would ever talk to her again.
She glanced at the price tag and flinched, but then decided it didn’t matter if they cost eighty dollars, or eight hundred. After all, it was her money and she made plenty. Why not spend it to spoil herself once in a while? Shoes are a girl’s best friends.
Chapter 20
You need to go after her. Patrick’s words had invaded his elusive sleep and his dreams. In the morning he woke up feeling absolutely whacked. He still wasn’t sure what was the right way to handle their fight, and tried to focus on the repair projects on his house while thinking it over again and again.
He checked his phone for text messages or missed calls every few minutes, and now that it was getting late in the day and he hadn’t heard from her, an icy knot formed in his stomach. What if I have lost her for good?
But between him and her lay roughly one thousand miles or a two-hour flight. The idea of having to fly had him like the proverbial rabbit fixating on the snake. His need to be with her won and he placed a call to the airlines and booked a flight to New York city first thing the next morning.
Early next morning he parked his truck in long-term parking, heading towards his departure gate with a sense of dread – dread of flying, but more of her reaction when she saw him. What if she was serious about being done with us and sends me away?
He shook his head as the flight attendant called his row for boarding, and walked down to the plane to occupy his seat. Guess it’s too late to back out now. Here goes nothing!
A moment later, an older couple sat down in the two seats next to him.
“Good morning,” the gentleman greeted him.
“Good morning,” Grant replied, watching as the man helped his wife get situated with a tender look of patience and love on his face. They must have been in in their sixties or seventies. The woman seated herself in the middle, giving her husband the aisle seat with slightly more legroom. She padded her husband’s leg and then put her hand in his.
Then she turned towards Grant to greet him and as her husband dozed off, he found himself looking at pictures of her kids and grandkids.
“You must be very proud of them,” he commented.
“Oh, we are. Our kids were such a joy when they were younger, and now that they’re all married with kids of their own, it is our greatest pleasure to fly around the country visiting them all.” She giggled like a young girl when she told him about the latest pranks of one of her granddaughters.
Grant smiled, feeling a little envious. I want that type of relationship. A woman I can love for the rest of my life. Have kids with. Grandkids to spoil. I want to sit together on a plane after fifty years of marriage…well, maybe not a plane. I want to sit on the porch of my beach house with Samantha fifty years from now.
He told himself that he could still have that. If not with Samantha, then with someone else. Who are you kidding? It’s Sam or no one.
When he got off the plane, he hailed a cab to take him to her apartment. He ran up the steps three at a time, rushed up to her door and knocked, still not having any idea what he would say when she answered the door. It turned out that was just fine, because she didn’t open.
Grant’s motivation and energy faded away. He called her phone, but this time it was busy. Well, at least it wasn’t turned off and he could try again later.
On a whim, he had another taxi take him by her agency. It was impulsive, but so had coming here been. Her agent might know where I can find her. After all, she’s probably working today.
When he arrived at the office building, he was in for an unpleasant surprise. He ran straight into Craig of all persons. Must be my lucky day today.
He was still trying to decide on the best course of action, when Craig started across the tile and reached him. The man had a smirk on his face that Grant longed to wipe off. With his fist. Grant envisioned strangling that man and punching the life out of him for hurting Sam, but of course he didn’t.
He closed his eyes for a few seconds and inhaled deeply to regain his self-control.
“You’re here to console our tantrum-throwing crybaby?” Craig asked, showing his true colors and lack of compassion for a woman he’d pretended to be in love with.
“You’re lucky I don’t punch you in the face for that stunt you pulled on Samantha. You don’t even deserve my fist in your stomach. Loser.”
Craig grinned at the threat. “That’s just jealousy talking because she chose me over you. You’re nothing but a manual laborer, a grunt.”
Craig’s insult wasn’t lost on Grant, and he fisted his hands at his sides. I’m not just a grunt, you idiot. What I do is way beyond that and you very well know it. Isn’t it? Samantha doesn’t think I’m just a dumb grunt laborer, does she?
Grant held his tongue, his insecurities coming to the forefront of his thinking. Samantha was so much more successful than he was, and she earned a lot more money than he did. It didn’t matter to him. But what if it matters to her? What if she can’t handle it? You’ll never be able to offer her the glitzy lifestyle she’s used to.
His self-control wouldn’t last much longer; if he stuck around, his threat to punch Craig would no longer be just a threat. And I don’t want to spend the night in the slammer because I taught some asshole a lesson. He’s not worth it.
Grant gave Craig a menacing look. “Stay away from Samantha, or I won’t be the only one coming to look you up.”
With these words, he turned on his heels. Craig would understand his veiled threat. That slime bag had met all of Samantha’s brothers, and had to know there was no love lost there. If they came looking for him, he’d be in a world of hurt.
Grant left the agency, no wiser than before. Searching for her in New York City was like looking for a needle in a haystack. Where to start? He decided to try her apartment again in a few hours, when she might be back from work.
Meanwhile he could use the time to buy a gift for his sister Allison. Her birthday was coming up, and he might as well get the task done while he was here. Like most men he hated shopping, but now it seemed a welcome pastime until he could try Sam’s apartment again.
He had to fly back to Chicago tonight, and his heart clenched at the thought of not getting a chance to speak with Samantha before then. He left her agency’s offices and stopped in the first store to his left, shaking his head as he perused the clothing on display. Even a man like him who had not the least interest for fashion perceived that these clothes would better fit his mother than his sister.
The shopkeeper approached him. “Can I help you?”
Grant looked uneasy as he asked, “I need to buy a gift for my youngest sister. This stuff doesn’t look like her at all.”
The shopkeeper laughed, “I would say not. This is designer clothing that mature women would wear. How old is your sister?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Does she like colorful, fun things? Trendy maybe? With an unusual edge?”
Grant sighed, relieved. “Exactly. Do you have anythin
g like that?”
“No, but if you head up a few blocks, you’ll find a brand new boutique that just opened. I would imagine you’ll get the perfect gift for your sister there.” She showed him which direction and waved him off with a smile.
Grant found the shop with no problem. Once inside, he could see why the shopkeeper had sent him here. This place is exactly the type of place Allison would shop in.
The walls were plastered with awesome t-shirts, a variety of colorful towels, and a bevy of beach stuff. There were bathing suits, fun sun hats, sunglasses, and little personal bottles of sunscreen that could be attached to a keychain or a backpack.
His glanced around the space, trying to get his mind focused on the task at hand. During the walk over, he’d become preoccupied with worries about Sam and himself once again. Was coming here a mistake? What was it going to take to make things right between them? Could they ever recover what appeared to be lost?
Chapter 21
Samantha looked down at the new heels on her feet and instantly felt better. She walked around for a minute, admiring the way they looked in one of the floor-level mirrors. God, they look so sexy and feminine. She loved wearing high heels; it made her feel like a woman. Sexy. Wanted. She glanced at them in one of the mirrors again. Somehow they reminded her of Sandy Beach. And Grant. If only he were here.
She was truly sorry for her behavior and wanted to apologize to him. She’d had plenty of time to think everything over, and now realized how stupid she’d been to get mad at him. After all, a true friend was one who called you on your weaknesses and told you when you were being stupid. A true friend would tell you like it really was, not just appease you with nice words that were lies.
She smiled as she thought about Grant. He would always put her needs before his. Even if it meant fighting with her, because she was too stubborn to admit that she had messed up. Sure, Craig deceived me. But it was me who reacted like a drama queen. Nobody but myself is responsible for my temper tantrums.
Explosion of Love (The Armstrongs Book 6) Page 8