Chapter 11
“Do you mind if I leave a little early?” Sam asked Peter.
“I don’t think you’re in the mood to do any work today, so you might as well skip out. After all, you’re practically a TV star.”
“Not quite, but I need to get a few new outfits.”
“Ah, for that dinner tomorrow evening,” he said with a knowing look. “You’ll be spending all the money in advance of those publicity shots.”
“Probably,” she admitted sheepishly. “I also have several events before Andrea’s wedding that require new stuff.”
He shook his head in mock annoyance. “Just like the typical woman. Always going on shopping sprees.”
“Me?” Sam exclaimed. “You gotta be kidding. I hardly ever go shopping for personal items. It’s just that all these things are suddenly coming up . . .”
“You have a new boyfriend. Don’t tell me that doesn’t play into the equation.” Seeing her look of discomfort, he added, “I’m teasing you, you know that. Go on and have a good time spending that hard-earned cash.”
“Which I haven’t earned yet,” she said ruefully.
“You will. I have confidence you’ll do a good job for the brewery. By the way, they invited me to the dinner. Did you know that?”
“No, you never mentioned it. I’m glad you’re coming. If Jordan’s still going to take me out tomorrow evening, why don’t you join us?”
“Not on your life. I don’t think Jordan would appreciate a third wheel. I’ll come by later in the evening when the dinner starts,” he replied. “I have things to do here.”
~ ~ ~
Sam made a beeline for the same boutique she’d shopped in on Monday.
The saleswoman remembered her. “Nice to see you again. What are you looking for today?”
“A number of things,” Sam murmured, glancing about. “I have a dinner tomorrow evening and a bridal shower on Sunday. If I can wear the same outfit for both occasions that would be great.” She walked over to a rack of dresses on one side of the boutique and began searching. “The trouble is, I’m not a particularly good shopper. I usually avoid stores like the plague.”
The blonde-haired woman laughed. “That’s hard to believe. With your height and good looks, you could easily be a model. Here, let me show you some of our latest fashions. There are several that could be appropriate.”
For the next hour, Sam tried on a variety of stylish garments and finally narrowed her choices to two particularly attractive outfits. One was a pale-lavender sheath dress with rows of stitched pleating on the bodice. The other was a slim black skirt with a side slit paired with a yellow linen tunic top with black buttons.
“What do you think?” she asked Ellie, the saleswoman. They were on a first-name basis by now.
“They both look good. The skirt can be used with different tops depending on how dressy the occasion is, and the sheath dress fits you like a glove. By the way, the boutique is involved in a fashion show coming up soon. Several of my customers are modeling outfits, and I wonder if you’d be interested. One of the perks is that you can buy any of the garments you model at wholesale prices. The money we raise will go to a charity. It should be a fun experience,” Ellie said.
“I’ve never modeled before!” Sam exclaimed with a startled expression. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about it.”
“You don’t have to know a thing. We’ll have a professional model showing you how to do the ‘runway walk’. Believe me, with your looks and height, you’ll have no trouble at all.”
“I’m a working woman and don’t have much time off.” She was astonished at all the opportunities coming her way, from television ads to a modeling gig. Was this all due to the simple act of changing her hair color and style? What would be next?
“The fashion show is scheduled for the second Sunday in June. It will be held in one of the large hotels in midtown Manhattan. We’ll rehearse for a few hours in the morning and model the clothing while the guests are having brunch. It should be exciting,” Ellie said with a smile.
Sundays would work, Sam thought. But did she want to do this? “I do have Sundays off, but let me check my schedule and let you know.”
When she left the boutique with a large shopping bag, she’d purchased not only the two outfits but extra tops for the black skirt, a black cashmere shawl to go over everything, several pairs of panty hose, and some sexy underwear. The last was not exactly necessary, but she thought Jordan would spend Saturday night with her. This time she’d be prepared.
~ ~ ~
Sam phoned Jordan at his office when she came home. Punching in his number, she settled into a comfortable chair in the living room.
“Sam, this is a nice surprise,” he said.
“I hope you won’t mind changing our plans for tomorrow evening.” She proceeded to give him the pertinent details of the television ad for the brewery and their latest offer of a free dinner and payment for photos taken with the owners.
For a moment he was speechless. “I thought you wanted to keep a low profile after that story in the Gazette. Why did you change your mind?”
How could she explain it to him? “Beth and Sean were my closest friends. As you know, they’re angry with me for refusing to go home with Brice. They also want me to give them your name, which I won’t do. Sean told me Brice was injured in the fight, and he wants to sue you. I thought if I could send them a large check it might compensate. Peter suggested I do the ad and make a check out to them. The owners of the brewery came to the gallery today and want me to do publicity for their products. They’ll pay me, of course, and I could use the money.” Would he understand the predicament she was in?
“Let them try to sue me–and do not give them a penny. That’s my advice. I didn’t start the fight. You can give them my name, too. In fact, let them have the business card I gave you. I’ll be happy to discuss their complaints. They don’t have a leg to stand on. As far as going home with that drunken guy Saturday night, do you honestly think you could have handled it?”
Sam took a moment to digest his remarks. He sounded more annoyed than worried. “I wouldn’t have let him take me home under any circumstances. We’d have ended up in a fight. I know that. But Sean and Beth only see Brice’s position. They don’t understand mine.”
“You don’t need friends who won’t support you,” Jordan said quietly.
She took a long, indrawn breath. “Beth and I have been close since college. It hurts to give up a long relationship like that.”
He was silent for several long moments. “Sometimes those things happen. About tomorrow evening, if it’s important to you, I’ll go along with dinner at the brewery. We can save the Italian restaurant for another weekend. Should I still pick you up at seven?”
“They’d like me earlier for the photo shoot. I was planning to leave the gallery at five and head to the brewery. Do you want to meet me there? It’s in the East Village.”
“I’ll pick you up at five at the gallery,” he said firmly. “We can go together, and I’ll get to watch the show.”
“Some show,” she scoffed.
“If you’re involved, I’m interested.”
~ ~ ~
After talking to Sam, Jordan discovered several things he hadn’t realized before. First, she must be on a tight budget. Second, she’d lost a close friend due to his interference Saturday evening. Actually, he should have known artists usually struggled to make a living. The belly dancing business was not exactly a lucrative one either. Did she own that brownstone she lived in, or was she renting? Recalling the interior of the place, the appliances were outdated and what he could see of the furniture wasn’t particularly impressive. She probably purchased the stuff at a thrift shop. A major change from Lara Jensen’s fancy digs.
Did that bother him? Not particularly. What they shared in the bedroom more than made up for any lack in the interior decorating department. Regarding the loss of her friend, he could understand her sadness. But Sam had done nothing wrong. How could her friend defend that drunken guy? He’d have made Sam’s life miserable if he’d taken her home. Either they’d end up arguing or he’d try to force her to have sex. No, Jordan wasn’t sorry about butting in.
With both those issues processed, he could go back to work with a clear conscience. His date with Sam on Saturday night would be different than the evening he’d imagined, but he was still looking forward to it–and especially to the night that would follow. This time, he wouldn’t leave at three a.m. They’d spend Sunday morning snuggling and getting to know each other. He’d take her out for brunch, and if all went as planned, spend the rest of Sunday afternoon making passionate love. At this last thought, he couldn’t help smiling. This would be one special Sunday–he was sure of it.
~ ~ ~
On Saturday Sam wore the black skirt and yellow top to work at the gallery. In a small bag she brought along one of the other tops for the evening’s dinner. This one was a silver and black knitted silk that molded itself to her shape. It featured a built-in bra and a halter neck and was very comfortable.
The day passed quickly, with lots of customers purchasing many of the fine crafts and prints. It was almost closing time when she realized she hadn’t bought a gift for Andrea’s bridal shower. There was little time to hunt for something. She picked out a hand-painted tray from their crafts gallery and wrapped it in silver paper with a large white bow. If Andrea didn’t like it, she could give it as a gift to someone else or donate it to a thrift shop. Sam didn’t care either way.
A quarter hour before Jordan was due to pick her up, she disappeared into the bathroom to change tops and freshen up. Taking a quick appraisal, she couldn’t help being pleased. This was such a new feeling. Why had she waited so long to make this transformation? The answer came in a millisecond. Jordan. It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was the truth.
A few minutes before five, Jordan walked into the gallery. Sam’s back was turned away, but she knew he was there. A heightened awareness made her skin tingle and her heart beat faster. When she swiveled around, she couldn’t help smiling. Dressed in a navy-blue sports jacket, dark-gray slacks, light-blue shirt, and pearl-gray tie with thin red stripes, he looked wonderful.
She walked toward him, suddenly feeling a little shy. “Hi,” she said softly, her eyes locked with his. “You’re very prompt.”
“I always am,” he said, appraising her. “Pretty outfit.”
She saw the wicked glint in his eyes and blushed. Would she ever be able to take men’s compliments for granted? Not for a while. This was so new.
“I’ll get my things, and we can leave. Peter is joining us later,” she told him.
For a moment he frowned. “Peter? Oh, that’s your partner in the gallery. I haven’t met him yet.”
“Wait a minute.” She walked away to find him and pick up her bag and shawl. “I want to introduce you to Jordan. Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.” Peter promptly rose and followed her into the front gallery.
Sam made the introductions and the two men shook hands. “I like your taste in flowers,” Peter remarked. “Those were gorgeous roses.”
If Jordan was surprised, he didn’t show it. “I haven’t seen them yet, but I’ll take your word for it.”
“I’m sure you’ll see them tonight,” Peter replied.
Sam felt uncomfortable at his assumption that Jordan would be spending the night at her home. Then again, did it matter?
“We’d better get going,” she murmured. “See you later, Peter.”
~ ~ ~
The East Village Brewery took up a complete city block, with the corporate headquarters housed in a renovated yellow brick building. An enormous modern sculpture, painted bright red, dominated the front of the place. A uniformed guard patrolled the grounds, and when Jordan pulled into a spot, he came over.
“You must be here for the photo shoot,” he said.
“Right,” Jordan replied.
They were ushered into a large foyer carpeted with a blue and red Persian rug and lit by an ornate chandelier. Max Beltzer and the Berdoga brothers were there to greet them.
“Samantha,” Max exclaimed. “I’m glad you’re here early. The photographers are setting up their equipment in the board room.” He turned to Jordan. “And this must be your date. Nice to meet you. I’m Max Beltzer, the one who persuaded this young lady to be in the ad. And these are the owners of the brewery, Hassan and Omar Berdoga.”
“Hello, pleased to meet you all,” Jordan said. “I’m Jordan Hart.” He turned to the two brothers. “I understand you recently opened this place. I wish you much success. Craft beers seem to be a popular trend. I know I enjoy them.”
“Thank you,” Hassam said, looking pleased. “So far things are moving along. We’re hoping to use this young lady to sell more of our products. Why don’t you both come along, and we’ll get started.”
The next two hours went by quickly. Max brought Sam’s belly dancing costume, black wig, and castanets from the previous evening’s filming. She was photographed with the two brothers in front of a giant blowup of a beer mug with the East Village Brewery name engraved on it. Then, with music playing in the background, Hassan and Omar took turns dancing with her, and the cameras caught the action.
After it was over, Sam changed back into her regular outfit. “Do you think it went well?” she asked Jordan. “They seem pleased, but I’m not sure.”
He put his arm around her waist and drew her close. “You were sexy and definitely hot, and I can’t wait to get you alone. Does that answer your question?”
Warm color flushed her face. She felt the stirrings of desire at his words. “I guess so. But will my belly dancing help them sell more beer?”
“Sam, your belly dancing could sell almost anything. They’re smart businessmen. If they picked you for their product, they know what they’re doing.”
But did she know what she was doing? A sudden image of her uptight father flashed through her mind, accompanied by the dry taste of fear. Pressing her lips together, she fought for control of her emotions. Remembering Peter’s words, she decided to push her family out of her consciousness. She’d do what was best for her.