I shouldn’t have agreed to meet Davis after work. I knew that. No question. Life was a series of decisions, and this was a bad one, no doubt. This would get me in trouble. It would risk placing me in violation of the agreement my mother and I had signed all those years ago. By spending time with Davis, I’d potentially opened my mother and me up to a lawsuit. The legal agreement we’d signed was still intact. It had no sunset clause whatsoever.
But he’d been so hard to resist, even after all this time.
I mulled over Davis’s request again as I sat at the front desk at Royal Palm. It was mindless work, centered mostly on making sure deliveries made it to the apartments of the well-heeled, no one entered the building without permission, and residents had everything they might require, from directions to concert tickets. It was the kind of work that could have been done by almost anyone, and I know without a doubt I was replaceable.
It was also the one of the best-paying jobs I could find.
That night, between saying hello to the residents and answering their questions, I used the front desk computer to google Davis Armstrong. I’d purposely kept myself from doing that for the last decade, making sure I didn’t scratch that itch, until it faded away from memory. Right after Mrs. Faniz asked me to make reservations at Steak Grille and breezed out of the building, I did the first of what I knew would be an extensive search on the boy I’d once loved. What I read made my heart skip a few beats.
He’d just graduated Harvard Business School with his MBA, and he’d done it with honors. They considered him one of their most distinguished graduates, and he’d been profiled more than once by Harvard’s newspaper and a few other business publications. Davis was also already rich on his own—he’d made two million by developing a travel app he’d sold to InterTech, a company in California, a few years earlier.
I found pictures of him in the Hamptons. Snapshots by Getty Images photographers of him at galas in New York, Los Angeles, and Palm Beach. He had a myriad of famous friends who called presidents, moguls, royalty, and celebrities’ parents their friends. And in every single photo, Davis stood out from the rest of them. There was something about his natural confidence that set him apart from the others, even when he wasn’t the best-looking person in the group. He had a way of capturing the attention of the lens and making it seem like he was the only person in the photo.
“Samantha?”
The sharp enunciation of my name made me yank my attention away from the computer screen. Howell McDougal stood on the opposite side of the desk with his arms crossed. I cringed inside.
“Yes, how may I help you, Mr. McDougal?” I managed. I needed to pull myself together and quit thinking about a man I could never have.
“Do you know how many times I said your name?”
I shook my head. I had no idea. I’d been too focused on the Google search of Davis to notice Howell, or anything else.
“Five times. Five. That was the fifth.”
“I’m…I’m sorry. I was distracted. Didn’t see you there.” I gave him a weak smile. “Do you need something?”
“Just wanted to say hello.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.” I closed the computer browser. Then I sighed. “I’ve just got a lot of things going on at home, Mr. McDougal.”
A short laugh escaped his lips. “You don’t have to call me Mr. McDougal.”
“Well, I’m supposed to…the condo board…”
“Screw the condo board. They’re all too uptight.” He motioned between us. “We’re friends, Sam. Or at least, my wife thinks of you that way.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“After last month, when she had the emergency—”
“It was nothing.” I waved away his praise. “I was on duty that night, that’s all.”
He braced one arm on the desk lip. “Know what? You’re one of their best desk assistants.” He glanced around the empty lobby, the lowered his voice. “I don’t think they pay you enough here. I saw the budget and—”
“Oh, it’s fine. I make enough.”
Shaking his head, he reached into his back pocket and produced a small white envelope. “I know this is against the association rules, and we’re not supposed to tip staffers, but my wife and I wanted to give you this.” He slid the envelope across the desk. “It’s not a lot, but it’s something extra.”
Tentatively, I took the gift. “That’s…I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say thank you.”
“Thank you.” Heat flushed my cheeks. I wasn’t used to people being this kind, but here he was, doing it anyway. I took the envelope. “It’s been a long time since someone has been this nice to me without any strings attached.”
“That’s a shame. Maybe your luck will change soon.”
“I sure hope so.”
We made some small talk, but I waited until he went back upstairs before I opened the envelope. One hundred dollars in crisp twenty bills lay inside. I’d forgotten that kindness like this existed.
I already knew exactly where I’d spend it. Thank you, Howell McDougal, thank you.
Sighing, I clicked back through the Google search I’d done on Davis Armstrong. In a way, it was fun to fantasize about his gilded world, and a life spent not having to worry about looming bills or when the next stroke of luck would come. In the images section, rows of photos of him greeted me, each one of them windows to a world I’d never get to live in, and a better life I’d never lead. I lingered on the ones I liked best, including one of him in a tuxedo on the red carpet for the previous year’s Met Gala. His jacket was dark navy velvet with black trim. The camera loved him, and the image’s angle highlighted his chiseled cheekbones.
God, it’s like time has only made him more handsome…
My phone buzzed. I found the device underneath a stack of paperwork related to the building’s next board meeting, and when I looked at the screen, my heart sank.
Mom: When you get off work, do you mind picking up my painkillers at the pharmacy? I had the doctor call in another round. I know it will be late, but the window is open 24 hours.
During a bad month, Mom’s medicine often ran us upwards of two hundred dollars when we added up all the insurance copays and out-of-pocket expenses. Most of the time, we barely paid it. And that month had already been one of her worst.
Still, I couldn’t deny her the things she needed.
Me: Sure thing. You’ll have it when I come home.
Even Howell’s gift wouldn’t take care of all my problems. The knot it the pit of my stomach told me I’d probably have to charge the remainder on the starter credit card that I’d managed to secure a few months earlier, one that had a five-hundred-dollar limit and a thirty percent interest rate. Mom didn’t know about that, and I hoped I’d never have to tell her.
I texted her good night then placed my phone in my tote bag so I wouldn’t forget it. As I did, my thoughts turned back to Davis. I shouldn’t have agreed to see him, and I knew it. It was too dangerous. Too risky.
We couldn’t afford such a gamble.
About fifteen minutes after I got off work at Royal Palm, I parked my car at The Hamburger Stand and took a deep breath. As I surveyed the parking lot, my gaze fell on a black Ferrari in the far corner of the lot, and I recognized its vintage model as the one Davis’s grandfather used to keep in the four-car garage on his island property. Even ten years later, the polish still gleamed under the soft glow of the street lights.
So, Davis was already inside the restaurant, waiting on me. I tapped my fingers on the car steering wheel and again considered the implications of dropping out of the meeting. If I drove away, I might never see him again. I’d get to avoid any awkward conversations about the past. But if I stayed, I’d satisfy my curiosity.
No, I won’t back out. I won’t stand him up. I’m going in.
I got out of the car, smoothed my shirt, and walked across the lot. I saw Davis seated in a booth at the far end of the room as I pushed through the rickety glass door.
His eyes seemed to smile, and his face brightened as he saw me enter. “Samantha,” he said as he got up from the table, “you didn’t chicken out.”
“Nope. Did you think I would?”
“Yeah, I did.”
I hesitated as I reached him, unsure if I should give him a hug or shake his hand. In the end, I didn’t do either. I just tossed my fabric tote bag onto the booth bench and slid in, following it. “Have you been waiting for a long time?”
“Only a few minutes.” Davis resumed his seat on the opposite side of the table. In front of us were two glasses of water, some silverware wrapped in paper napkins, and two laminated menus. “I would have ordered you something other than water, but I didn’t know what you like to drink.”
“Just a diet soda.”
“No alcohol?”
“They don’t serve that here.”
His shoulders sank. “That’s a shame. I could use some.”
“Me too,” I admitted.
“I’ll have to pick a place that does next time,” he said as looked down at the menu.
The waitress arrived, and Davis ordered two diet drinks for us. As he did, I couldn’t focus on anything but his last two words to me. Next time. Next time. Next time. They echoed in my head on an endless loop. I gripped the edge of my menu, almost twisting it as I held on, hoping to steady my breath and calm the rapid beating of my heart.
“I’ll give you all a few minutes to look over the entrees,” the server said, more to Davis than to me. He thanked her, and she flounced away. My heartbeat reverberated in my ears, drowning out of the normal sounds of the dining room.
“Okay,” Davis said after a long moment. “If I’d known a simple after-work meal would stress you out so much, I probably wouldn’t have asked you.” He gestured at the menu. “You’re holding that as if it’s the only thing between you and certain death.”
“Sorry, I—” I released my grip on the laminated paper, but I still didn’t open it. “I’m just thinking about a lot of things.”
His eyes softened. “Like what?”
“It’s just…” I took a deep breath. “Ever since I last saw you, things have been complicated. That’s probably the right word. Complicated.”
“Life is complicated, Sam.”
“I know, but I would say mine has been more than most.”
How was I going to do this? How was I going to explain it to him, without admitting what happened, without admitting the truth about what his father had done, and what we’d agreed to as a result? Having googled him, I knew what was before him. He’d follow in his family’s business, have more money than God, marry a beautiful woman with a suitable pedigree, and look back at this moment and think why the hell did I bother to see Samantha Green again? I was inconsequential, and therefore I had no idea why this was important to him. Even though we signed an agreement to stay quiet, I looked into his eyes and saw the boy I’d once loved.
He deserves the truth.
“Look, I need to say this.” I looked at the table, steeled my nerves, and met his eyes again. “I didn’t come here to hang out. I didn’t come here to get to know you again. I came here…I came here because…” I shut my eyes. I can’t tell him. Our lives are on different trajectories. Not to mention the contract…“Never mind.”
“Never mind what?”
I opened my eyes. “Listen, no matter how close you thought we were in the past, that’s where it must stay, in the past. We can’t go back.” I grabbed my water glass and gulped down a large swig. It didn’t do much to help the dryness that permeated my mouth. “We can’t. Things don’t work that way.”
“I’m not asking to go back.” Davis stared at me, his gaze steely and his eyes narrow. “I’m asking to go forward. With you.”
I shook my head. What? He can’t be serious. We’re virtually strangers.
“What’s wrong?”
“We can’t do that,” I croaked. “We can’t.”
“I don’t think you understand, Samantha.” His jaw tightened. “Before the other night, I’d given up. I thought I’d never see you again; you were a ghost of my past.” He let out a puff of air. “But then I saw you at the wedding. And now we have a chance for another chapter.”
“No,” I said, even though the word was painful to say. “We don’t.”
I remembered the clauses of the documents my mom and I had signed, a bunch of legal mumbo jumbo designed to keep dirty secrets hidden forever. The memories helped me find the courage to say what I needed to say, but deep in my heart I wondered why he was bothering at all. We were kids back then. Yes, I thought he was the love of my life, but that was the past. Now, love would need to take a backseat while I looked after my mom. While I worked grueling hours trying to extend her life, because…she is my everything. He was a graduate of Harvard, about to start his brilliant, successful life. Surely he wasn’t serious that finding me now meant we could start something new?
If he was, he was deluded.
“Honestly, I only came here to tell you I don’t want anything to do with you, Davis. I don’t care about the past, or what we used to have. It’s not part of my life anymore.”
“But—”
“No.” I stood from the booth and looked down at him. His eyes were sad, and a deep frown marred his forehead. “Goodbye, Davis.” I didn’t know this man. I couldn’t pretend I was heartbroken to be walking away, because I didn’t know him. Not the man he’d become. But I always knew he’d be an incredibly kind, thoughtful, and generous soul, and that’s who I’m mourning the loss of. I can see that boy in his eyes. He was my best friend. But not only could I not dream of trying to reconnect with him as simply a friend, I was bound by oath to avoid him at all costs. At all costs. I had once hoped I’d find him again, that we’d reconnect, and life would be full of possibilities again. We’d find out what we had all those years ago was real. Possible. But that wasn’t my reality, and it never would be. Once this document is signed there is no sunset clause. I remembered that face from so many years ago and swallowed my pain, pushing it into the pit of my stomach.
“Have a nice life,” I added.
Then I walked out of The Hamburger Stand.
I had to fight every cell in my body to keep from looking at him. By the time I got to my car, I’d already started crying. My life sucked. Period. No question. Some people had it easy, but I never would.