Chapter Fifteen: Zara
Sam called me earlier and invited me to dinner. At first, I thought it was a date, but while I was not talking – sort of processing what he had just said – he added on that it was a thank you for everything I’ve done for him. Lucky for me, I found that out before going or I may have made an utter fool of myself. I was disappointed though and I didn’t do anything to hide it. I hope I didn’t make Sam feel too bad about it.
But I’m not going to dwell on it. It sounded like he’s taking me to a fancy place and I’m ready to eat overpriced lettuce. I go to my closet and look for something nice to wear. I wasn’t expecting to go to too many high-class places, so I didn’t bring that many nice clothes. I don’t want to wear the dress I wore to his sister’s wedding, but I have a few more outfits to choose from. I settle on a floral dress an empire waist., capped sleeves, and a peter pan collar. It’s a soft off-white. I know that’s quite a lot description for this piece of clothing and that’s because it’s particularly special to me. It’s something my Mom bought me. She was into dressing me up and buying nice clothes for me – I’m a bit of a comforter, looking for whatever makes me feel the comfiest. This dress was one of the last things she bought and it was a shopping trip we took after she got sick. I’d paid extra attention to all the little things she was telling me about the dress and I’ve managed to remember all of them. Plus, I’ve always felt pretty wearing it.
My doorbell rings and I push the button to tell Sam I’m on my way down. I take one last, quick look in the bathroom mirror to make sure I look put together. I’m trying something new with my makeup today and I’ve been wondering if it actually looks good or not. I tell myself to not worry about it too much and rush downstairs. I find Sam standing outside of a limo. I can’t believe he’s being so… extra for a simple ‘thank you’ dinner. I look between him and the car, trying to piece together what’s going on. There are questions I should be asking, but I’m not sure how to word them. He holds open the door and I step inside, keeping quiet. I go to the other end of the seat, Sam sitting with some space between us. We ride in relative silence for most of the way, little snippets of conversation being peppered in every so often. I want to confront what our relationship is head on, but I also want to have a good time tonight. Maybe another time would be better? I’ve never had to think about these things like this before. I’m not saying my previous boyfriends were direct or anything, but I typically knew where we stood. With Sam, I’m not sure what the hell is going on.
We get to the restaurant and Sam takes me inside. This is the literally fanciest place I have ever been. My Mom and I weren’t the type to drop a lot of money on meals or vacations – mainly because we didn’t have it. Additionally, our small time isn’t known for its elegant eateries. But I have to say, this restaurant is on another whole level. Even with one of my nicest dresses on, I feel underdressed.
We’re seated closer to the back and Sam orders some wine for the table which is promptly delivered and poured. It’s kind of weird being in some place so ornate. I sip my glass, not wanting to end up sounding like a giggly schoolgirl again. It would be rather out of place here. I’m looking over the menu when Sam softly put his hand over mine. I take my eyes away from my array of food choices to look into his.
“Are you mad at me?” I tilt my head and think about telling him the truth. I didn’t want to derail the night, but this bitterness I’m just coming to terms with is showing itself and I need to get over it. I don’t like how I’ve been feeling, especially because I like the time I’ve been spending with Sam. Also, I’m not used to feeling so much contained anger. I kind of know why I’m angry, but I’m also sorting through it. I just want Sam to… be himself.
“I’m not mad… I’m just confused.” I take a deep breath and continue, “I thought this was going to be a date, but then you said it was a ‘thank you’ dinner, but then you came to my apartment with a limo and you’ve taken me to this insanely fancy restaurant and I don’t know what to think anymore. And I don’t really like being this confused. I’m not used to it.” I don’t want to sound like I’m demanding more from him. I just want some of this to make a modicum of sense. This is why I’m not into casual relationships. Whenever my friends in college got into one, they were always complaining about how the guys they were seeing never wanted to talk about getting serious or even give their relationships a status. I don’t need us to be serious, I just need us to be clear.
Sam sits back in his chair, taking his hand off mine. I’m worried I’ve offended or pushed him away and that’s the opposite of what I wanted to do. I try and do some backtracking, not wanting him to leave just yet. I’m willing to be casual, I just want to know that’s what we’re doing and I want him to know that.
“I don’t want to force you to make us anything official or whatever. That’s the opposite of what I want. I just want clarity and I want to know where we’re at.” He nods and takes a sip of his drink. I can tell he’s really thinking about his words. He really considers what he says, but that results in some pauses that make me apprehensive. I’d like to see Sam more unguarded.
“Do you want this to be a date?” It’s not the response I wanted. He likes to throw things back at me, thereby making it my decision. I want to know what he wants, but I’m okay with exposing my desires.
“Yeah, that would be nice.” He leans forward again, putting his hand back on mine.
“Then it’s a date.” He smiles sweetly at me and I’m happy about it, but also, I’m still in the dark. Just because we’re on a date now – and that’s what I wanted – doesn’t mean the answer given actually answered my question. I still don’t really know what Sam wants from this relationship and even though this is a date, it doesn’t mean we’re not still casually seeing one another. He definitely reminds me of the fuckboys my friends dated in college. But I decide to be happy with this small development and go back to picking something to eat. The two of us talk and I let go of whatever mood I was in and keep myself pleasant. He tells me a little bit more about his Mother and sister, Wynonna and Sarah, respectively. He seems to really respect them and want the best for both of them. The love he has for them flows freely. I wish his other emotions were just as open.
The waitress comes to take our orders. They’re someone different from the guy who poured our wine. The place is so extravagant that have a different person for wine and food. She’s is openly flirting with Sam while the two of us are ordering. It’s obvious the two of us are on a date, but that doesn’t seem to bother her. She’s all smiles with him – touching his arm but when she turns to me her whole demeanor changes, turning borderline rude. Well, maybe rude is a bad word. She’s being indifferent I try being nice, but that doesn’t help at all. I guess she just doesn’t like me or like the fact that I’m with Sam.
Once she’s gone, I question Sam about the whole episode. “She was obviously and shamelessly flirting with you, you know that, right?” There’s a bit of an edge to my voice and I’m surprised that I’m feeling such a heightened sense of jealousy. I was just sitting here, telling myself I can deal with something casual – which could entail Sam seeing other women – and now I’m having a reaction that is contrary to my thoughts.
“Are you jealous?” There’s a glint in his eye that tells me he’s amused. I don’t think I’m mad – at least not at him – but why would another woman play me like that. It’s just not nice.
“No, I’m not jealous,” I’m totally lying, but I don’t think Sam is seeing through it. “I just think it was awfully rude of her to treat a fellow woman so rudely. We’re obviously together tonight and she should have taken that into account. It’s human decency and the rules of solidarity.” I raise my eyebrows, challenging him to combat my defense.
“There is more to the story.” Now, I’m intrigued. I thought this was a simple example of women treating one another poorly, but it would seem I am wrong.
“Tell me more.” I lean forward, showing just how interested I am to hear his story. Sam takes a long drink from his wine glass before continuing.
“Well, the waitress – her name is Dani – the two of us were involved some time ago. She wasn’t working here, though. She waitressed at a different restaurant. That’s how the two of us met.” Oh, I see. A lover scorned. That adds some much-needed context. I just thought she found him pretty and was hoping for the night to take an unexpected turn, but in actuality, she found him pretty, saw him with a different girl, got angry, and was probably formulating some twisted plan for revenged. That I can sort of get behind.
“In that case, I bear no ill will.” I’m not going to explain myself to him even though he obviously wants me to. Going so far as to ask,
“What does that mean?
“It’s not for you to know.” And I’ve effectively dropped the subject. I can see he has a lot to learn. I wouldn’t have gone as far as his Mom did in calling him selfish, but I’m also still getting to know Sam. At the very least, he’s willing to learn and so I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. He doesn’t push me to explain my stance on keeping mum and soon our food is delivered, so it isn’t brought up again.
While we’re eating, I see Ruby walk in. My first reaction is pure nerves – like I’ve done something wrong. Then I remember that I had tried to keep in contact, but she was the one who never got back to me. So, my next reaction is tinged with annoyance. And then it all kind of dulls down and I’m a bit curious. Ruby intrigues me. She annoys me, but she also intrigues me. I tell Sam, softly pointing to her. “Sam, I think that’s Ruby.” He turns in the direction I’m pointing, but doesn’t look for long.
“Do you want to talk to her?”
“I don’t know. She blew me off after saying I basically had the job. And she also ditched me when she was supposed to take me home.” I don’t really hold too much against Ruby, but she’s proved to be less than reliable. I should probably have some negative feelings, but that’s a lot of effort and I don’t like being on the outs with people. It turns out it doesn’t matter what I think because Ruby rushes over and takes the empty seat at our table. Her audacity is astounding.
“Oh my god, Zara! I’m so happy I ran into you.” She throws her arms around me in an unprecedented hug. I don’t want to seem like a bitch, so I give her a quasi-hug back. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but I had a job this past weekend and everything got away from me. Working on my own is not a great for organization. I’m just a mess. Aahh!” Ruby gestures with her hands, making a weird face. I look at her funny, hoping she’ll bring down the energy – which she doesn’t. “Anyway, it did not go as well as Sarah’s wedding and guess what the missing link was?”
I start to answer, “I don’t –” but Ruby interrupters me before I finish.
“It was you! God, Zara, you are just amazing and I don’t know how I thought I could do this without you. Please come back to work for me? I’ll double the wage, I promise to keep in contact – and with your help I won’t get all bogged down with minutia.” I glance over at Sam and he’s watching Ruby and me with a passive face. It doesn’t help me make a decision.
“I’m not sure, Ruby.” I’m worried that this could all happen again. All I have is how she treated me before – and while she wasn’t mean – she didn’t inspire much loyalty in me. She just made me feel kind of used. But, I guess I can give her another chance. She probably didn’t mean to make me feel that way and so that equals a second chance, right?
“Please, Zara. I’m begging. It’ll be a lot better the second time around.” I don’t want to let her down. She seems really sorry and I enjoyed making the wedding cake. Who can it harm anyway? With the money I’m making with Sam, I don’t need to worry too much. If Ruby disappears again, I’ll be able to bounce back rather easily and working with her could open doors for me, doors that offering private lessons don’t get me to. Plus, I could make even more to aid with reopening Baker’s Corner. There’s no real way for me to lose here.
“Okay. I’ll come back to work for you.” Ruby squeals and hugs me, saying she’ll call with details. I say goodbye and hopes that true. I won’t hold my breath waiting. I go back to my dinner with Sam. He’s still suspiciously quiet, but I can see the judgement in his eyes. What I can’t tell is whether it’s directed at me or Ruby. “Do you want to say something to me?”
“You’re simply too nice, Zara.” He says with an even tone, not reveling if it’s a compliment. Given what transpired, it might be less of a glowing review.
“What’s wrong with being nice?” I sip my wine and look over my glass as he shrugs. I continue speaking, low key defending myself. It’s not the first time someone has told me I’m too lenient with people, but I’ve always thought that it means I’m a generous person. “Either way, I can’t help myself. I don’t like letting people down.” It’s just an integral part of my nature. Ever since I was little, I wanted to make people happy. I’ll even inconvenience myself if that means someone else’s life will be a little easier.
“That’s… nice of you.” He uses that word again, nice. I’m not the biggest fan of the way he says it. I can see Sam thinking of niceness as a weakness because – like I’ve just demonstrated – people tend to push that niceness as far as it will go. But I also think that people are operating under the best of intentions, so I don’t immediately think someone is trying to take advantage of me.
“Anyway, I think Ruby deserves a second chance. Most people do.” We drop the subject and return to our meal. It doesn’t derail our evening – Ruby’s impromptu appearance. Our dinner turns out to be rather nice in fact. The night is indicative of an unhealthier attribute of our relationship. What I’m talking about is how we skirt over certain deeper issues by staying silent – and I’m going to add more evidence to back up that claim by not even delving into the very issue itself.
Once we’re done, Sam pays the check. While he’s paying, I head to the bathroom. As I’m washing my hands, Dani walks in and she goes straight to the sink next to mine. This alarms me because there are like five empty sinks, so her choice of body placement puts me on edge. She starts washing her hands, but finishes quickly because she doesn’t really need to be cleaning herself. She turns her entire body towards me, her hand on her hip.
“You’re the girl on a date with Sam Wood?” I turn off the sink, shaking my hands above. I grab a paper towel and then, finally, face Dani. Surprisingly, she doesn’t seem angry or upset, just curious.
“Um, yeah. At least, I think it’s a date.” A genuine smile comes across her face and she laughs. It’s light and carefree and I can’t keep my own small smile from breaking free.
“That sounds about right. Sam Wood was never one for labels.” So, I think my original assessment was right. Dani is a girl out for a little revenge, but, the part I got wrong, was who it was aimed at. It would seem she has a bone to pick with the man of the evening.
“Are you still mad at him?” She gets thoughtful for a second, taking her time to think about my question. She really is rather beautiful. I can see why Sam want out with her. I wonder if the two of us will be having encounters like these on a regular basis. Running into all of his… exes – if they really can be called that.
“I don’t think so,” she says like it surprises even herself. “When I first saw you guys, I was mad. I even acted like kind of a bitch and I am so sorry for that.” She looks at me to see if I’m mad and I know she’s giving a full-hearted apology.
“Don’t sweat it. I had guessed as much.” She’s relieved, relaxing before continuing.
“But, yeah, all I could remember is how our… circumstances ended. He left me like I was nothing special and I think I was angry because I believed him. Not to say Sam would tell me things like that, but it’s how he treated our encounters. I don’t think he saw much of a difference between the women he would sleep with. Or – I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. Like he’d treat me like an individual. He was attentive when we’d have sex or if he ever happened to take me out, but like – there’s was no sincerity behind it. I felt he was just doing it to do it.” That’s a lot sadder than I thought it would be. I’d thought he was just a regular player, flitting from girl to girl, not really valuing them. But it would seem he is more complex than that.
“That’s… that’s really sad.” Dani sees me all forlorn and she suddenly goes into comfort mode. She puts a hand on my upper arm and leans in, her face looking rather concerned.
“Oh no, honey. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I couldn’t tell if you had real feelings for the guy. I thought maybe you knew about his whole… thing. At this point, most women who know him are very much aware. But to be totally honest,” she leans back a little, her eyes narrowing in deep thought, “he does seem to be behaving a little differently. Maybe he really has changed. I’ve seen stranger things.” She shrugs before offering me one more piece of advice, “I don’t want to tell you not to fall for him. He really is a great guy, just a piece of shit when it comes to commitment. But be careful where you put your feelings. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” She gives me one final look and is about to leave, but I’m surprised when she turns around and takes a piece of paper out her pocket. She gets a pen and writes something down. “Here’s my number. I know it might be a little weird to talk to the girl who slept with the guy you’re seeing, but I think us girls have got to stick together – even if you do end up with the guy.” And with that Dani leaves the bathroom. I’m a little shocked by everything that has just happened. I did not expect her to be so nice – especially to me.
I finish up in the bathroom and find Sam waiting for me. We go back outside and stand on the sidewalk, waiting for the limo. It was a nice evening and I’m glad I said yes to it., but our various conversations inside the restaurant have got me thinking; what is Sam doing with me? I had hoped asking him directly would help clear things up, but I still have all the same questions. In fact, I have even more. Given what I’ve seen, I know Sam is a player. That girl Dani was evidence of it. The way she talked about him was so confusing – as if he made it seem like you’re dating him, like serious dating him, when you’re not. Could that be us right now? How do I know he isn’t playing me? I mean he probably is. Who am I to think I’d make any difference in his habits? But that shouldn’t matter because I was going to keep it casual. I’m going to be a fun time until he doesn’t want to see me anymore. But, lo and behold, I can feel myself starting to care for his sexy ass and that’s worrying me. I don’t think Sam is the type to do a serious relationship. He wouldn’t even commit to an answer on whether or not we were on a date until I said something. It’s like he’s keeping an exit open, just in case he has to leave. Whatever that means, I’m going to have to keep a tight watch on my heart. I don’t know if I’m ready to lose another person I care about so soon after losing my mother.
While we wait, Sam asks me, “Do you want to go to your place or mine?” He casually looks down at me as I gently grab the lapels of his suit jacket. I’d been wondering how this night would end and I’m glad he brought up our options. I tell him,
“Your place. It’s nicer.” I get on my tiptoes to kiss him, but the limo pulls up before my lips can reach his. I turn around, still holding on to Sam. He kisses the side of my face instead and the two of us get inside. Sam taps the divider and it goes down.
“Take the long way home, Rich. We’re going to my place.”
“Yes, sir.” The divider closes and Sam and I are effectively alone again. I want to make fun of him for having a personal driver, but the way he’s looking at catches the words in my throat. He’s sat across from me, his body relaxed and leaning back.
“Could I have your leg?” Slowly, I raise it, offering my limb to Sam. His fingers encircle my ankle before moving further up. He massages his hands over my leg, rubbing up and down. He gets on the floor of the limo and between my legs, kissing the tops of my thighs. My dress has ridden up, still just barely covering me. Sighing deeply, I lean back, resting my head at the top of the seat. I don’t think I want to let him go – not any time soon at least.