The door to Renee’s hotel room burst open at that moment, and Tristan and Phin walked in, carrying her bags. They both stopped dead in their tracks.
“And vhat do we going to do with these?” Betty asked thickly, still bouncing Samantha’s breasts up and down.
Renee, who was still standing on the chair, must have been so shocked by what was happening she didn’t move it all.
Betty looked at Renee, still standing up on the chair, and Renee looked at Phin who was standing by the door with Tristan.
But Tristan looked right at Samantha. Her face flushed with embarrassment and she instantly started to giggle. Renee started giggling too, which caused Betty to throw her hands in the air in frustration.
“Vhat?” she questioned sharply.
The whole room erupted in fits of laughter, doubling over. Except Betty, who stuck hands on her hips and stormed into the restroom.
Blood rushed to Samantha’s face and neck as they came to, because there was no mistaking the look on Tristan’s face. It was inappropriate, sexy as hell, and she couldn’t breathe.
He covered his mouth with his hand, wiping over his chin, then down his throat, but his eyes never left hers. “I could really go for a burger and fries about now,” he said to Phin. “How about you?”
Phin cleared his throat a moment later and looked to the floor. “Sounds good to me, brother.” They placed Samantha’s bags by the front door, her keycard on the entryway table, and turned toward the exit. Renee stepped down from her chair, waiting for the guys to close the door behind them, then stood right in front of Samantha and looked down at her breasts. “She’s right you know. Vhat in fuck are we going to do with these?”
25
Chapter Twenty-five
After a few pokes, much finagling, and a few prayers, Betty finally found a solution to the dress problem. She let out an inch or so on each side, took the pieces of fabric she’d cut from the hem and sewed them in under the arm panels…where no one was the wiser, but allowed Samantha the room to breathe.
Samantha put the dress back on the hanger, thankful to be back in her t-shirt and shorts, and zipped it up in the garment bag to hand back to Betty. She opened the bathroom door to Renee’s room, anxious to find out what was next, and found her lying on the bed talking to someone on the phone. She hung the dress back on the clothes rack, trying to be quiet, then busied herself looking at all the wedding things strewn all over the chairs and tables.
There were small boxes which had various treats inside. Miniature cupcakes, chocolates, and other beautiful confections. Bottles of champagne with Renee’s and Phin’s names on the side, among all sorts of other favors.
For the first time, Samantha realized all she’d missed.
In a matter of days her best friend was getting married… She knew it was coming. Knew it would happen whether she was ready for it or not, but seeing these things thrown all over the room made her realize her life would go on, even though Renee wasn’t there. There would be parties and babies that neither of them would be around for. And that was heartbreaking.
Samantha walked along the long table, looking at all the beautiful details she knew her friend had agonized over. Some she remembered, from photos she’d sent through text over the past months, but some were totally unfamiliar, because life couldn’t be captured digitally. She stopped at the name cards lined up in a row. With burnt edges that made them look rustic and antique. Tristan’s name was on the very top.
She picked it up, running her finger along the gold script lettering, realizing she missed him already. Five days ago she’d barely given him a second thought, but somehow on this short trip, she’d gotten accustomed to talking to him whenever she wanted. To him being there, listening, always paying attention, always watching her.
She placed the card back on the table, already craving his company, but at the same time, glad he wasn’t around. Because there was no way she could hide how she felt about him, especially from Renee. She took a deep breath, hoping she’d be able to keep her feelings under wraps, and turned around to see Renee watching her.
Renee had finally hung up the phone and was rising from the bed when she spoke. “It’s funny,” she began. “It was so important for me to do all this stuff in the beginning, but now I’m sick of it. I can’t wait to be married so I can give it away and never see it again.” She laughed.
She came to a stop beside Samantha, who laced her arm through Renee’s arm and rested her head on her shoulder. It was their signature position, and one that brought her comfort now.
“I’m sorry I missed so much, Nay. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to get here.” And I’m sorry I’m keeping secrets from you, but it’s better this way.
Renee shook her head. “Don’t be silly.”
Samantha straightened, having to clear her throat that was thick with emotion. “I always thought we’d do all this stuff together. I thought—” But she stopped herself, because she didn’t want to make this into a big Samantha pity party. “You did a good job. I couldn’t have done better, and that’s saying something.”
Her best friend grinned, then bit her lip and tugged her toward the door. “Come on, it’s time.”
“For what?” Samantha asked, suddenly feeling uneasy.
“To cut,” she whispered in her ear, mimicking Betty’s accent.
Samantha laughed, letting her head fall back to her shoulders, but allowing her best friend to pull her toward the door. There was no sense in arguing. Renee was going to win anyway. Just like she always did.
26
Chapter Twenty-six
The salon was in the hotel lobby, just past the elevators on the right hand side. There were a half dozen white salon chairs all facing full-length mirrors, and surprisingly, only one was taken. They were seated right away, given a menu of complimentary appetizers and beverages, and soon Renee was whisked away to another room for a facial, leaving Samantha on her own to look through style magazines.
She should not have been trusted with style magazines. The last time she’d picked out her own hair, she’d ended up with minuscule bangs and a perm. She rocked forward in her seat, looking through the other reading material, when a buzzing noise sounded from her purse. She instantly grinned, knowing full well who it was, and fetched her bag from the hanger on the wall.
A text.
Wild Stallion: Are you alone?
She grinned wickedly, then looked around to make sure no one was watching. Only the petite brunette sat in the corner with foils in her hair.
Mona: Sort of. I’m in the salon waiting for my haircut. Where are you?
Wild Stallion: Sitting in my room, thinking of you.
Her stomach tightened and she crossed her legs.
Mona: I don’t like being away from you. This is harder than I thought.
Wild Stallion: You’re telling me.
She burst into laughter but quickly covered her mouth.
Mona: That’s not what I meant and you know it.
Wild Stallion: Did you hear about the party?
She grinned.
Mona: Yes
Wild Stallion: I’ll see you there.
Mona: See you.
She tucked her phone back in her bag, just as Renee came back into the room wearing a green mask with slices of cucumbers on her lids. An esthetician was guiding her through the Salon, and finally plopped Renee down in the seat beside Samantha, and proceeded to attach a headrest to the back of her chair.
“I didn’t want to wait back there all alone,” Renee said. “I missed you too much.”
Samantha laughed and hung her bag back on the wall. “Good, because I was just about to pick out my own haircut, and we all know how well that turns out.”
Renee cracked a tiny grin. “Those itty bitty bangs you had in eighth grade,” she stated. “But don’t worry, I’ve already called ahead and told them exactly what to do.”
Samantha grinned. “Thank you.”
They sat in silence for a
few minutes, as the esthetician reclined Renee back in her chair, positioning her feet up on a stool so she could massage them. When the esthetician began to knead, Renee visibly relaxed and almost melted.
“So,” she began sleepily. “When does Steven arrive? I was worried for a minute he might get here before you and I’d have to entertain him on my own.”
It was meant as a joke, one she’d made regularly when they lived together, but the whole energy in the room instantly shifted. Samantha cleared her throat, knowing her friend had no idea what had happened, and grabbed a copy of the Wall Street Journal from the shelf. “We broke up,” she said softly, hoping the nonchalance in her voice carried to her best friend, but as soon as the words exited her lips, Renee removed the cucumbers from her eyes.
“What?” Renee whispered. “When?”
Samantha closed the magazine and turned to face her. “On the trip. Two days ago.” She took a breath, trying to calm her nerves. “You were right. He put everything above me and I was sick of it. When he called to tell me he couldn’t make it to the wedding, that was the end for me.”
Renee frowned, sending bits of green mask to fall to her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”
She shrugged. “Don’t be. I should have done it a long time ago…like you said.”
A tear slipped down Renee’s cheek, leaving a streak of flesh visible through the thin mask.
Samantha sat forward and grabbed hold of Renee’s hands. “I thought you’d be happy. I thought—”
“I’m pissed, Sam. So angry he’s treated you like this again.”
Samantha nodded, her chin slightly quivering, because it was obvious how much Renee loved her, how ferociously she cared about her.
“This trip has taught me a lot about myself.” She began. “One being that Steven and I were never meant for each other. I don’t think even as kids, but especially not now.”
Renee nodded, as though she’d known this fact a long time. “How did you do it? What did you say?”
Samantha winced. “I did it by text. I know it wasn’t ideal, but he was always too busy to talk. I knew he’d at least check his messages.”
Renee raised her eyebrows. “How did he respond?”
“I don’t know. My phone got wet. I have no idea.”
Renee laughed, then turned in her seat and looked at Samantha through the mirror. “Serves him right. Though honestly, I’m surprised he let you go that easily. I’m surprised he hasn’t tried calling me to get to you.”
Samantha sighed. “I guess he’s resigned to it being over. He’s focused on his career, and I’m honestly relieved about that. It will make things easier when I get home.” She nodded for emphasis, then turned in her seat to continue reading. But a large burly man came to stand behind her at that moment.
“You must be Samantha,” he said in a deep, husky voice.
She nodded, then glanced over at Renee with eyes as wide as saucers.
Renee giggled. “Tom, this is my best friend Sam. She just broke up with her boyfriend, and needs the hottest haircut within your ability.”
Tom smiled, instantly transforming his face into something reminiscent of a teddy bear. “You got it, Nay,” he said. Tom lowered Samantha’s seat, indicating she should follow him, and gestured for her to sit down at the shampoo bowl.
“Lie back,” Tom said. He then guided her neck down into sink, where he began delicately removing her braids. He then wet her scalp, sending the perfect temperature water over her head, and proceeded to wash her hair—with the strongest, most skilled fingers she’d ever felt in her life. Almost.
Samantha’s hotel room turned out to be a mere two doors down from Renee’s. Two.
Convenient for borrowing deodorant, but not so convenient if she wanted to sneak a certain someone into her room in the middle of the day. It wasn’t that she wasn’t having fun either, because spending time with her best friend was exactly where she wanted to be. She craved their interaction, their easy friendship that allowed them to speak freely, or be perfectly silent without any awkwardness at all.
At one point during their appointment, Renee was telling her about her and Phin’s first date, and Samantha thought she might cry, she was laughing so hard. Or at another time, when Renee told her again the story of how he proposed, Samantha thought she might cry, but this time because it was utter sweetness.
And then, they had a long talk about Steven, and about how Samantha feared she’d stayed with him for so long for all the wrong reasons. Because she was scared of hurting people, of saying no. Scared of rejections, and of failure. In the end, they had a big ol’ cry fest about how much they missed each other, and made promises to visit each other whenever they could, no matter where they lived or how difficult life became.
But now, she was alone in her room, which left plenty of time to think about Tristan. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact he’d become the forbidden fruit, or if it was something else, but all her hormones were bursting. Having him at her will for two days had ruined her for life. Already, all she could think about was kissing him, touching him, and him touching her. She dangled her feet off the side of the bed and let out a deep sigh.
She’d tried to take a nap as Renee was doing, but every time she closed her eyes, memories of Tristan’s lovemaking played through her mind, making her feel…anything but rested.
Deciding to give up on sleep, she fetched her purse from the top of her dresser, and carried her toiletries and makeup to the bathroom. She arranged everything on the countertops meticulously, then hitched her leg up on a chair and began shaving her legs, taking ten times as long as she normally would for such a tedious task. But still, hours remained until she needed to be ready for the party. She turned around to rest her bottom on the counter and looked at the tub.
It had been years since she’d soaked in a bath. Years since she’d had one available. She pushed herself to stand from the pristine white counter and walked over to run her fingers along the cool porcelain edge. Her apartment back in LA didn’t have a bathtub, and the idea of soaking her muscles sounded heavenly. She turned on the faucet and let the tub fill halfway with water before adding a scoop of bath crystals that were graciously provided on a silver bath tray.
Fragrant lavender and lemon filled the bathroom, and on impulse, she fetched her bag off the counter and pulled out her phone to send a message to Tristan.
Mona: Are you alone?
It was a simple message, well meaning and straight to the point… And not five seconds later, her phone rang and she slid open the call.
“Where are you?” he asked with a husky flirtation.
She sat on the edge of the bathtub, smiling as she tested the temperature with her fingers. “My room.”
“That’s a shame, you should be in mine.”
She grinned, letting her bath robe slip down her shoulders then fall softly to the floor. “I’m about to get in the bath,” she said. Tingles traveled down her body simply from the admission. She felt naughty, sexy, and she wished she could see his face.
“Where’s your room?” he asked then. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”
She only smiled and put one foot in the water. “You can’t. Renee’s room is just across the hall. It’s too risky.”
He groaned. “I like risks.”
She laughed and lowered her body farther. “Well I don’t, and I’m the only one who knows my room number.”
He was quiet a moment, and she could almost see him smiling. “Touché, little one.”
She grinned and leaned back, resting her neck in the built-in pillow. “Little one?” she asked, her nose wrinkling at the pet name.
“It’s only fact.”
She nodded, letting her body relax. “So what did you do today? Anything for the wedding?”
“Eh, this and that. Mostly hung out with Phin and his family. And thought about you in that dress.”
She grinned. “Did you like it?”
“I did.”
“Go
od,” she said, leaning forward to turn off the water. The bath was completely full at this point, so she tightened the handles, then leaned back in her spot. The water must have made a splashing sound, because the line became incredibly quiet.
“Are you in the bathtub, Samantha?” There was a thread of humor in his voice, but she could hear it going deeper too.
She wrinkled her nose, then bit her finger as a rush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered.
He made an obvious clearing of his throat and spoke again. “Are you naked?”
She laughed, because what kind of question was that? “Of course I’m naked. What kind of baths do you take?”
He laughed then, and she could almost see him throwing his head back. “No no no… We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you.”
“Okay then. Yes. I’m very much naked.” She was grinning ear-to-ear, feeling giddy and silly all at the same time.
“Are there bubbles?”
She laughed “Yes.” She bit her lip. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m trying to visualize you, and every detail helps.”
“Oh yeah? How am I looking?”
“Hot. Really hot.”
She bit her lip, loving the playful tone of his voice. She leaned her head back, realizing she loved talking to him so much. She loved—everything about him. She sunk a little deeper in the water and whisked up a pile of bubbles with her fingers. “And where are you, Mr. Montgomery?”
“In bed,” he stated. There was a seductive tone to his voice, but he didn’t elaborate. Which left her mind running with possibilities. With naughty thoughts of what he could be doing there.
The line went silent again, and soon she sat forward wanting to ask where he went. But before the words crossed her lips, his rich sexy baritone came through the receiver again. “Grab the soap, Samantha.”
The Boy I Hate Page 19