Sam didn’t know what he expected. Actually, that was a full-blown lie. He’d expected he’d enjoy Helene and Ignacio’s wedding. He’d expected to enjoy a few laughs with his grandmother, and when she’d had enough he knew Jesse would come pick her up and take her home, leaving Sam to openly ogle Amanda late into the night until she gave him the signal that she was ready for the two of them to head back to her room together. He had condoms at the ready. He had more champagne chilling, a short menu of late-night snacks on deck just in case they needed to refuel between what he’d hoped would be round three and four. He’d expected to wake up early tomorrow morning and kiss Amanda, finally get her phone number, and sometime next week, he’d expected he was going to call her up and ask her out on a proper date so they could really get to know each other.
He wasn’t sure what exactly had gone wrong. Not that it mattered. Amanda had told him where she stood and all he could do, what he planned to do, was respect that. She just wasn’t into him.
Sam had to face it. He was an optimist and a hopeless romantic, and both of those things sometimes got in the way of reality. Amanda had made it clear the first time she’d skipped out of his hotel room that she wanted nothing to do with him beyond their one-night stand. Running into each other again had been pure coincidence. He’d been so amped to see her again some of the sparkly dust that clouded his brain from time to time had him mistaking that coincidence for destiny.
On planet Earth, however, that wasn’t the case. If Amanda wanted him, she would have said so. But no, she’d done her best to let him down nice and easy. She liked him, but not enough to see if what he was feeling between them could become something more. Something that at least involved exchanging phone numbers.
Sam grabbed his phone off the nightstand and rolled onto his back. He pulled up Instagram and like a damn fool searched for Amanda McQueen. There were a shocking number of people with that name. Still he spotted Cha-Cha’s bright smile in the fifth circular avatar down the list. He clicked on QueenA and quickly learned that her social media didn’t give away much about her. The photos were mostly artistic shots of various LA streets. Maybe one photo out of every twenty was a picture of Amanda herself, just a close shot on her smiling face. There was one picture of her with her parents on Christmas morning two years before.
Sam was maybe four years deep in her feed when he realized what he was doing. She’d given him the full-blown no-thank-you. He needed to let this, let her go. He closed out of her account and braved a look at his DMs. Walls did a good job monitoring them, but Sam liked to look every now and then. He scrolled back to Oscar Sunday and whoa, Walls hadn’t been lying. His DMs were filled with messages from all kinds of women. He could have had Walls lock his DMs but the way the messaging system worked he’d also miss sincere messages and tagged posts from fans. He decided it was worth it to take the bad and bizarre with the good.
He scrolled by a message from Dru Anastasia, then scrolled back again. He’d watched her show Andromeda with Lilah a few times. He liked the whole space, paranormal aspect of it, but the cast hadn’t been enough to keep him interested. Dru was beautiful, though. The message she sent was . . . it was definitely an approach.
Congrats on your win. You should take me out sometime so we can celebrate.
I think we’d both enjoy it.
She’d added a wink emoji.
The image of trying to “enjoy” a meal with Dru Anastasia flashed through his mind. There was no spark there, only cautious confusion. He closed out of the conversation and moved on to the next message from Brandon Williams21. He’d tagged Sam in a photo of what looked like a school presentation that had a big red A at the top with a scrawled note that said “Good work.” Sam smiled as he read the caption.
I’d never heard of Josiah Williams before my dad took me to see The Sky Beneath Our Feet. I decided to do my term project on Josiah and learned that he’s on my family tree. Thank you to @TheSamPleasant for bringing a member of my family to life.
Sam shared the post on his account and added his own caption, congratulating Brandon on his A and thanking him for tagging him in such a personal post. He may have been nursing a hopeless crush that had already been buried, but at least he’d helped to inspire a high school sophomore. It wasn’t what he’d expected from the night, but it was something he could feel good about. With some of the optimism restored, Sam went to sleep.
Chapter 9
It took some doing, but Amanda finally got PJ to stop yelling. The manager of Delightly had rightfully lost his shit, but Amanda was determined to make things right.
When she’d returned from Charming, she’d hoped the week ahead would go smoothly, or as smoothly as they usually went with Dru. She was exhausted, which was usually the case after semi-destination wedding weekends. Even though they’d stayed at a luxury ranch with the best amenities and all the fresh air a girl could handle. Between all the wedding-related activities, Dru’s texting drama, and stressing about a barely romantic situation with a certain actor who looked devastatingly handsome in a cowboy hat, she’d barely slept at all.
She’d braced herself for Dru’s bad mood when she arrived at her apartment bright and early Monday morning. Amanda knew Dru was under a lot of stress and a lot of pressure. Kaidence had hired Amanda to relieve some of that pressure. Well, a lot of that pressure. Dru relied on her in a lot of ways that had nothing to do with making sure she didn’t miss her call times. She’d buoyed Dru in a sense of reality away from the cameras and anytime Amanda went away, Dru seemed to come slightly unglued. She panicked and when Amanda came back to work, she made her pay for it.
Her comments had been a little more cutting than usual, her requests a little more absurd. And that was all after she’d spent a good ten minutes making fun of Amanda’s imaginary friends and the crappy wedding she was sure her friend had pieced together for her crappy husband and her crappy guests. ’Cause that was her opinion of Amanda. She didn’t actually know anything about her personal life, so she assumed it had to be shameful. Crappy even.
Part of her wanted to tell Dru that she’d actually been at Helene and Ignacio’s wedding, the social event of the year. She wanted to casually let it slip that she’d had to work to not be in any of the photos that would be in next week’s issue of People. She wanted to let it slip that she had a chance to sleep with Sam Pleasant. AGAIN. Instead she’d taken her barbs like she always did, with a nod and a change of subject back to what was really important. Sometimes it worked and sometimes, well, Dru was just committed to being an asshole and didn’t let up with her cruelty until she had another distraction.
This week that distraction had come in the form of a botched lunch delivery from Delightly that had sent Dru into a rage spiral the likes of which Amanda hadn’t seen in years. It had been the perfect storm of this cannot be happening. On a normal day, Amanda would order Dru’s lunch and meet the delivery person by Dru’s trailer right before the cast and crew were set to break. This time, though, the delivery had been late and they’d run into her as she was making her way across the lot.
They say in times of stress your senses are heightened and Dru being the stressed-out equivalent of a bloodhound somehow knew Delightly had sent the wrong thing. She’d ordered the carrot soup with a warm quinoa salad. Somehow Dru had clocked the package in the young woman’s hand as tomato soup and a sandwich before she’d even handed it over. Amanda watched in slow-motion horror as Dru snatched the bag out of her hand and confirmed that the order was wrong. What came next could only be described as a meltdown. Amanda didn’t want to think about the fucked-up things Dru had said over a simple mix-up.
To her credit the delivery person stuck up for herself, explaining that she was just the driver, but that just spurred Dru on. The poor woman was in tears, making a break for her car, way before Dru had run out of steam. She’d pulled out her phone and started to call Delightly, but Amanda had talked her off the ledge, offering to go herself and pick up the right order. Good thing t
hey’d come in separate cars.
But by the time Amanda had arrived at Delightly the damage had been done. PJ had already been briefed on what had gone down by the poor delivery person, who was apparently still crying in the back.
“I cannot apologize enough,” Amanda said as she and the manager stood at the end of their vegan pastry display. His face was beet red and every vein above his shoulders was popping out. She had no idea how to fix this.
“You know you’re not the problem. It’s her! Every time she comes here she’s rude.”
“I know and I’m sorry.”
He reached for a bag on the shelf behind him stamped with the restaurant’s signature leaf in the shape of a heart.
“This is it.” He handed it over. The correct order.
“PJ—”
Amanda glanced over her shoulder on reflex as the door to Delightly opened again. The audience for this fiasco didn’t need to grow any bigger.
Of course this would be the day for Sam freaking Pleasant to come strolling in. He was with a white man in a very crisp suit and his assistant.
She turned back to PJ, her brain forcing her to deal with the more pressing issue first. “I promise. I will pick up all her takeout orders from now on. All of them.”
“I’m really sorry. We just can’t. In this case the customer was dead wrong. I have to do it. She’s banned from dining with us. What am I telling my staff if I let this slide? It goes against everything—”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry. If you want to come in and dine with us, you know you’re always welcome. But Dru is going to have to purchase her meals elsewhere. I can’t ask anyone who works for me to deal with that treatment. And frankly, you shouldn’t do it either.”
Amanda felt her stomach drop to the floor, as he put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze that said, “Look at your life, girl. Look at your choices.” PJ was right. She was paid to put up with Dru’s abuse, but subjecting the food service staff of the greater Los Angeles area to her behavior was not some right she’d been awarded. Sometimes there were consequences for shitty behavior, and Dru had just lost pretty much the only place in town she actually liked to eat.
“Okay,” Amanda said, frustration nearly closing her throat.
PJ nodded, then turned back to the kitchen. The conversation was over. Amanda tucked the food close to her chest, then ducked her head and made for the door. If she moved fast enough there was a pretty good chance Sam wouldn’t see her while he was hearing the day’s specials. She moved smoothly, quickly, but not quickly enough. Just as she slid by him and his crew, his assistant turned and bumped into her. She stumbled back a step, her ass bumping the corner of a nearby empty table.
“Oh shit. My bad,” Sam’s assistant said.
“It’s okay.”
“Hey, it’s Cha-Cha.”
Sam of course spun around, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Amanda.”
“Hey. Nice to see you. I—uh, I have to get going.” She took off for the door, but not without feeling the brush of Sam’s fingertips on her arm as she rushed by him. He was following her. Maybe if she walked fast enough she could get back to her car and accidentally run him over before she was forced to talk to him. She hurried down the street, and just as she turned the corner where she’d parked her car down a muraled alley, she heard him call after her again.
“Amanda! You dropped your phone!”
She froze, then patted the pocket of her down vest. “Shit.” It had definitely slipped out. She headed back just as Sam came around the corner. For some reason the moment she saw him tears sprung to her eyes. She couldn’t explain it, but she didn’t want her worlds to collide. Not like this.
“What’s going on?” he asked, worry creasing his forehead.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. You’re crying.” Sure enough a few jerk-face tears slid down her cheeks. “Did something happen in there? Do I need to go back and fight a vegan?” His well-intended threat only made her cry harder. She wanted to tell him what had happened, but levels and levels of embarrassment kept her from disclosing the whole truth. Again.
“Some—one of my coworkers came in and they weren’t kind to the staff. I was trying to smooth things over so she doesn’t become the first person to ever be banned from a vegan breakfast spot.”
“Sounds like your coworker is an ass, but why are you crying?”
“Because my coworker is an ass.”
“Jesus. Right. Come here.” Amanda knew she could keep her distance, but she didn’t stop Sam from pulling her into his arms. It was a friendly hug, lacking the heat they’d shared before, which made things so much worse. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had someone really comfort her. She pulled away, suddenly, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“I just—this industry is a lot sometimes. You know?”
“I do. I definitely do.”
“I seriously do not know why I’m crying. This isn’t even about me,” Amanda said, and immediately she knew that was a lie. There had been a month where Dru refused to eat. Anything. Kaidence actually encouraged it. She was impressed with Dru’s drastic weight loss, and she was in between shows, so her complete lack of energy didn’t seem to matter. Silly Amanda was actually worried about her health. Every day she tried something different. A different restaurant, a different smoothie, a different designer protein bar endorsed by the most trustworthy of housewives.
Nothing worked until she’d tried Delightly. She’d finally gotten back to incorporating a few more places into Dru’s diet, but Delightly was her go-to. She didn’t want to think about what was going to happen now that she was literally banned from eating there. But none of that was Sam’s business and she wasn’t going to tell him.
“Delightly is just the only place our whole room agrees on. I’ve been coming here for years. I’m just upset that she was mean to PJ and his employees.”
“Hey, you busy this weekend?”
Amanda felt her eyebrow shoot up. What the hell did this weekend have to do with Dru’s tantrum. “No, why?”
“Come out to the ranch.”
“What? No. Sam, I—” Surely he couldn’t be thinking about sex at a moment like this.
“This isn’t about me. Or us. You’re clearly stressed. It just so happens I know a guy who can comp your whole stay. Did you even get to see the spa?”
“No.”
“You won’t even have to see me. I don’t live at the ranch. You spring yourself from work Friday night and come on down. Enjoy the ranch. Ride a horse, pet a llama or one of our more friendly sheep.”
“What about the dogs?” Amanda sniffled. “Can I spend some time with your dogs?”
“Of course. You didn’t meet the other two. Hell, if you want, we’ll go down to the shelter and pick up a few more. All the dogs you can handle.”
Amanda couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “I have to think about it.”
“Here. Unlock your phone for a second.” Amanda unclenched her hand and reached for her phone, which he was still holding. Her fingernails had been digging into her palm so hard she knew her hand would ache when the adrenaline passed. She took her cell and unlocked it with her tear-streaked face before she handed it back to him. His thumbs flew over the screen as he spoke.
“Give it some thought and if you decide you want to come through just text or call me. I’ll take care of everything.” He handed it back and she stopped herself from immediately texting him so he’d have her number saved. She still wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be able to contact her. Her eyes lingered on the freshly saved contact, TEX, at the top of the screen.
“You don’t have to do this,” Amanda said as she glanced up at his handsome face. He was working on the beginnings of a beard. She didn’t hate it.
“I want to. I know sad and I know exhausted. You look like you’ve had enough of both. For real. I won’t bot
her you. I didn’t forget what you said. You’re not interested. Heard it loud and clear. But . . .” He shrugged, tilting his head to the side. “Come on down. Use as many or as few of the amenities as you want. Eat some bomb-ass food and then battle Sunday night traffic to brave another week with your asshole coworker.”
“Shit.” She was still holding Dru’s now lukewarm carrot soup. “I have to get back.” That seemed to be enough to break them both from some spell Amanda didn’t realize they were under. She didn’t realize how close to each other they still were standing. She didn’t realize how badly she still wanted to kiss him, how badly she wished weekends with him could be a reality that wouldn’t cost her her job.
“I’ll—I gotta go.”
“Okay. Hit me up if you change your mind.”
“I will. Thanks.” Amanda flashed him a weak smile and then turned back to her car. Sam waved at her when she buckled in behind the wheel, then headed back inside toward the restaurant. When she pulled down to the mouth of the alley she checked both ways for traffic. And just before she pulled back out onto the street she could have sworn she’d seen two paparazzi on the opposite corner. She prayed to God that Sam wasn’t the one they were looking for.
* * *
Sam kept his eyes focused on the mouth of the trail ahead. He’d set out right at sunrise, taking his black mare out to start their day. He thought another long ride with Majesty would help take his mind off everything. Usually the time he spent in the saddle helped clear his head. He could take in the sounds of nature around him, or talk to Majesty about whatever he was thinking. By the time he made it back to the stables Sam would have found some sort of clarity, but today the quiet just gave him more time to overthink and overanalyze. Again and again.
He’d had one hell of a week. Getting kicked to the curb by Amanda. Being offered several roles, each more reductive and stereotypical than the next; more DMs from women like Dru Anastasia, who he had no interest in dating; running into Amanda again. Something about her had him all messed up.
If the Boot Fits Page 9