by Olivia Jake
“Very good, Laurent. You’ve made it clear this morning that you know my name.” she spat out sarcastically. All he could do was stare at her as he gripped her arm. She waited for some type of reply, but he simply stood there, staring at her, as though whatever it was that he wanted to say was just too painful to utter. So she continued. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but I am not going to be held hostage here while you continue to say nothing other than my name. Either tell me what the hell is wrong or let me go.”
“Spare me the theatrics, Samantha. You are not being held hostage. I am protecting you.” his tone was still ice cold. Sam had no idea who this man was, but it wasn’t the Laurent that she had been falling in love with. This man actually scared her. She wasn’t worried he’d physically hurt her, even though her arm was starting to feel bruised, it was more the fear that someone could change from so warm and loving to ice in a matter of moments.
Calmly, without emotion or raised voice, Sam said, “I’ve told you once before, Laurent, I don’t need saving. Now, take your hand off my arm.” They stood there for a moment, staring at each other. After it was clear that Sam wasn’t backing down, and to her surprise, Laurent released her. She knew he probably had no idea he was even holding her that tightly but she wasn’t about to forgive him. “I am going for a run. A long run. Alone. If you’re here when I get back, then I hope that you will explain whatever the hell is going on and what has changed in the span of a few hours. If you are not here, then I will pack my bags and be on the next flight back home. It is your choice, Laurent.”
As much as Laurent wanted to keep her there in the safety of the room, he realized he couldn’t. Sam’s tone and body language had made herself perfectly clear. It was one thing for her to submit to him in bed, but they were not playing and she was not going to be ordered around like a child. Especially given that he refused to actually talk to her or explain why he was acting the way he was. Laurent stepped back and Sam opened the door. When she heard it close behind her she realized, she suddenly had no idea what the hell was going on in her own life.
It wasn’t until she started to walk through the lobby that Sam saw the throngs of paparazzi through the front doors. There must have been a couple dozen. Way more than the previous night. Regardless of how brave Sam was just moments before in the room with Laurent, she knew she was no match for what was outside. She quickly turned around and headed back into the hotel. She couldn’t return to the room. She needed to run, she needed to clear her head. She asked the concierge if there were a back door and explained why. He led her through the staff entrance in the back for which she was grateful.
It was around 8am when Sam’s feet hit the pavement, physically jolting her and mentally reminding her to just put one foot in front of the other. If only everything in life were this clear. One foot, followed by the other, on a path of her own making. As she started to work out the kinks in her body, her muscles awoke as the city too started its day. As she ran, Sam took careful note of which turns she made, knowing well enough that she could get lost very, very easily if she didn’t pay attention. That, coupled with the fact that paying attention to which street she was on and where she was going helped occupy her mind. If she was noting street names and landmarks that she passed, then she couldn’t be in her head trying to figure out what may or may not await her back at the hotel.
For as close as she thought that she and Laurent had become, she suddenly felt like he was a complete stranger. Obviously, the paparazzi had set him off. But he was the one who had warned her about them. He couldn’t have been surprised that they were there. And, it wasn’t like it was the first time that they had their picture snapped by the gossip rags. It had happened back at home. But all the conjecture in the world was not going to explain anything. As Sam finally headed back towards the hotel after over an hour’s run, she was exhausted and knew that she was ready to talk. She hoped the same could be said for Laurent. But hell, she didn’t even know if he’d be there when she got back. She chuckled to herself to take a good look around because she might be on a plane in the very near future.
When Sam rounded the corner she realized she didn’t have a contingency plan for getting back into the hotel. Now sweaty, she really didn’t want this to be the second picture of her in the press. First pigtails. Next, sweat-soaked shorts and a tank top. She had a baseball cap on, perhaps she could make it through unnoticed? She first ran around to the back, where she had exited earlier, but the doors were the type that could only be accessed by an employee key card. So, she rationalized that they couldn’t really know what she looks like, and again, it’s Laurent they’re after.
She jogged up to the front door with her head ducked. The minute she got within 10 feet of the door she started hearing her name being called as the crowd descended on her. She tried to walk, and then run quickly through the all the men, but there were too many of them in too small of a space and they closed in as she tried to keep moving forward. Suddenly, Sam was surrounded on all sides by strangers, jostling, smelling of stale cigarettes, bumping her with their cameras and their hands. Someone grabbed her baseball cap and pulled it off her head. As they tugged, it caught her ponytail and in the commotion she was suddenly being pulled back and down. All she could see were bodies, faces she didn’t recognize and cameras pointed at her. From behind, hands were grabbing her ass and arms, pulling her backwards. She started screaming and tried to fight, jerking her body against the pulling, trying to get away, but there were so many hands grabbing at her and flashbulbs going off, men yelling horrible things about her and Laurent. Her arms had been so slick with sweat that hands were sliding off of them and then grabbing harder to hold on. She twisted and turned, trying to break free. She felt like she was being pulled in all different directions and then suddenly, finally, she heard a voice that broke through all the yelling. “Get the fuck off of her, NOW! So help me I will kill each and every one of you. MOVE!”
Hands flew off of her, dropping Sam to the ground as the crowd separated, turning their attention, cameras and flashes to that voice. She looked up to see Laurent reaching towards her. His expression was one of anger and fear and determination as he lifted her up and into his arms. The yelling and flashes continued as Sam buried her face in his shoulder as he carried her safely inside, her arms wrapped around his neck holding on for dear life. Hotel security and bellmen were running towards the crowd to keep them out as Laurent made their way to the elevator. Sam was in a state of semi-shock. She had never been attacked before, and this, whatever it was, it all happened so fast. The whole incident must have been over in less than a minute. But it wasn’t the length of the assault, it was that it happened at all. Sam was trying to process it, trying to figure out what happened. Why were they so interested in her and why were they grabbing at her?
Laurent would not let her go. Even though Sam could have stood, could have walked, his grip on her was vice-like. He whispered, “I am so sorry, Cheri, I am so, so sorry.” Over and over again as he stroked her hair. He carried her to their room and finally set her down so he could open the door. Once he got it open he reached as if to carry her in, but Sam held out her hand stopping him. She was still angry and hurt and confused, and even given everything that just happened, it had only been a couple hours earlier that they weren’t speaking to each other.
Reluctantly, he backed off, letting her go in. Once the door closed Sam was surprisingly calm and focused. All of the adrenaline from what had just happened manifested itself into clarity as Sam looked at him and said, “I am going to take a shower. I need to wash the sweat and their filthy hands off of me.” She paused, looked down and took a deep breath. She knew that he wanted to hold her, she could see that he was holding himself back from wrapping his arms around her as if that could change everything. But he bit his tongue and forced himself to be still, letting Sam continue.
“When I come out, we need to talk. You need to tell me what the hell happened last night.” He started
to open his mouth but she wasn’t finished. “Laurent, I’m more confused about who you were last night and this morning than about what just happened out there.”
He nodded his head and, resigned, said, “ok, when you’re finished with your shower, I will tell you everything.”
It wasn’t often that Laurent felt compelled to do something that he didn’t intrinsically want to do. In fact, it was almost never. There were few people he wanted or needed to please. Most everything in his life was done on his terms. If people didn’t like that, he was always happy to walk away. Very rarely did the other party not capitulate. But those other people were typically business relationships, people who wanted whatever it was that Laurent was offering, and in the end, Laurent got his way. As for the other women in his life, Laurent could take ‘em or leave ‘em if they didn’t want to play by his rules. But all of that was before Samantha. It was obvious that shutting her out and doing things his way wasn’t going to work with her. So Laurent took a deep breath and sighed, realizing that this, what he was about to tell her, was just another moment that made it clear just how different things were with her.
CHAPTER 2
Sam spent a long time in the shower. She scrubbed her body over and over trying to wash everything away. She knew she was lucky. She knew women who had suffered far, far worse. But she was sickened by what had happened. All of those strangers grabbing at her, putting their hands on her, touching her. After a while, her fingers started pruning and she finally decided there was no more that she could clean. The physical traces were washed off. Now, the harder part. Facing Laurent.
She ran a comb through her hair and put lotion all over her body. She could tell she was going to be sore later. Not from the run, but from being pulled apart. She could also see there were scratches and the beginnings of some bruises. Great, reminders, she thought as she pulled on a t-shirt and yoga pants.
When she finally made it out to the living room, once again Laurent was on the phone. But this time, when he looked up his face was much softer when he saw her. He quickly hung up and came over to her, “Samantha, I know you’re angry with me, but please let me hold you. I need to feel you. I need to know that you’re ok.” Sam couldn’t really argue with that. She was still angry, but she also wanted to be comforted and comforted by him. He was the only one who could. Ironic since he was the source of her anger too.
They walked towards each other and he pulled her into his arms. They stood there for minutes saying nothing as he stroked her back and her hair, kissing the top of her head, taking deep breaths over an over as if he were breathing her in, ensuring it was really her, there in his arms. Finally, he released her but only so far so he could cup her face in his hands. He stared at her, tracing the sides of her face with his fingers and then tracing her lips and her nose, then finally leaned down and kissed her lips softly. The minute their lips touched he started shaking. He deepened their kiss as Sam could feel Laurent’s tears falling down onto her. When the tears stopped, he pulled away and looked deep into her eyes and said, “Samantha, please forgive me. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”
Sam had never seen Laurent cry, much less so literally and figuratively shaken. She thought she had seen all the sides to this man, but she realized there were parts of himself he had still held back. She couldn’t blame him for not wanting to reveal what she was seeing now, but it was a reminder to her of the depth of this man, and, that as much as she knew about him, it was only what he chose to share with her, what he chose to show her. She wasn’t so naïve to think that he was perfect, or that there were no skeletons in his closet, but Sam wondered if it was possible to ever truly know someone. She had felt like she did with Laurent, but obviously, there was still more buried deeper beneath the surface.
“It’s not your fault that those paparazzi attacked me, Laurent!”
“But I know what they’re after and I never should have let you leave this morning.”
Sam smiled as she wiped away a tear from his cheek, and said softly “You didn’t have a choice, Laurent.” Finally, he smiled a little and laughed.
“Ok, Samantha, let’s talk.”
“When I was younger, I was, I guess you could call, a player. I had already made a lot of money and was very successful. I went out a lot and, uh, how should I say, there wasn’t a shortage of women.” He looked down sheepishly.
“I’m shocked, Laurent. A young, gorgeous, rich, charming entrepreneur. I would imagine women were throwing themselves at you.”
“You think I’m gorgeous and charming, Cheri?” his eyes lit up playfully.
“Get on with the story.” She teased dryly.
“I played the field. I wasn’t interested in having a relationship. I was interested in having fun. Actually, I was just interested in whatever suited me at the moment, and when I was done, I moved on. So perhaps you should remove charming from your list. I think there are probably quite a few women who would beg to differ on that point. Anyway, I was 32 and wasn’t thinking about anyone other than myself and moving on to the next new thing. I started dating this girl Emilie for a little bit.” He shrugged and raised his eyebrows, “She was fun and we had a good time, but honestly, I couldn’t have even told you her last name before…” he trailed off and took a deep breath.
“Like I said, I wasn’t interested in relationships and I thought I was clear about that. Emilie started wanting more so I ended things. Abruptly. There had been a few girls before her who didn’t take my, uh, breakup, very well, leaving a few nasty messages on my voice mail or sending emails telling me what I could do with myself, but that was it. So when Emilie started calling and calling, and waiting outside my house and coming to my office, it wasn’t completely surprising, but it was at a level that I had never before experienced. It wasn’t just a couple messages or letters. But still, at the time, and to me, she was just some clingy girl who was delusional about what we had together, which for me was some fun over a few weeks. A month at most.” It was so clear that reliving this was painful for Laurent, but there was also resigned determination in his eyes, he knew that he had to share this with Sam.
“This went on for at least a month and I avoided her. When she couldn’t get to me, she finally went to one of the tabloids telling them that we were in love and she was going to have my baby. I knew that we weren’t in love, or at least that I wasn’t, so I assumed she was lying about being pregnant since she was so irrational about everything else. So when they asked me my side, I told them that she was nuts and yeah, we had some fun together, but that was it, it was over and she was lying about having my baby and even if she were pregnant, who knew if it was even mine. I suggested that if she was sleeping with me, and everyone knew that I, uh, played the field, that she was probably sleeping with other guys too.”
“That story set off some really nasty headlines. I didn’t care what they said about me and truthfully, none of it was anywhere near as bad as what they said about her. They called her a slut and a whore and called her parents trying to get more dirt, asking if she had always been a little whore even when she was younger. They dug into her private life and wrote the most horrible things. They talked to old friends and relatives… I imagine they made her life a living hell.” Laurent looked down, running his hands through his hair.
“Samantha, I had no idea. You have to understand. I barely even knew this woman. I never would have been so cavalier if I knew how unstable she was or if I knew...” He paused again, looking pained as he took a deep breath. “A few days later, when I arrived at my office,” he paused and took in another deep breath, “she had charmed a security guard or someone and convinced him to let her into my office.” He looked down again, “When I walked in I found her hanging there.” Again, he paused, putting his hands through his hair, “Later, when the police went through her effects, in her purse was a sonogram and a DNA test. She had apparently collected some hair or a toothbrush from me and, she wasn’t lying. She was pregnant and it was m
ine.”
Sam was starting to understand why he hadn’t shared this story with Sam. He looked like he was physically sick in the retelling of it. She imagined that, if it were her, she would have wanted to keep this buried for as long as possible. Few people like revealing their damning pasts, but for someone like Laurent, someone for whom control is everything, she understood why trying to control this message meant even more to him than probably to most people. It wasn’t that he only wanted Sam to see his good side. It was that this part of his past showed that even he could be vulnerable in the worst kind of way.
“A week later I got a vasectomy. It was the only way I could be sure that I could never get anyone pregnant again. And I stopped screwing around. I grew up.” Laurent was clearly ashamed. Ashamed not just of what he had done, but of who he was. Sam doubted he had ever admitted this to anyone. She knew that just saying the words out loud must have been torture for him, for someone not used to explaining himself, this went way beyond just that.
“Needless to say, the press had a field day with the story. And ever since then, I’ve tried to be very, very discreet if I’m with a woman here in France. The minute they catch a whiff of a relationship, they bring that one up. And they can be very, very nasty.”
“I now realize just how much of an understatement that is.” Sam said, trying to lighten the mood, but Laurent just winced.
He took a deep breath and continued, “so when I saw them last night, I panicked. It’s been so long that I’ve been in France with a woman, I didn’t think this was news anymore or of interest, but when I saw them, all I could think was, merde, I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to get the situation under control.”
Sam nodded. She did understand his reasoning, but she needed to share with him what his actions did to her, how it made her feel. “You pulled away from me last night. You were like a stranger to me this morning. I could handle the story, Laurent. That’s all in the past. But I can’t handle you just shutting down without any explanation.”