“You made it.” Zinnie smiles when my guys enter the apartment. “I was worried you wouldn’t,” she easily admits with a smile on her face that is so genuine and candid, it’s impossible not see what Tuesday dinners have come to mean to her.
“Of course, we’re here.” Pierce drapes an arm over her shoulders. “I changed my flight to Paris to be here.”
Zinnie shrieks and starts throwing rapid-fire questions at him about the city and how she can’t wait to go there one year for fashion week and the pictures she would love to get. Pierce sits with her on the couch and answers every question. He’s always had a fondness for Paris and it’s with ease that he promises her a trip on her sixteenth birthday.
Another shriek and she’s pulling on my arm, begging me to let her go.
“Let’s just see how you do this year in school,” I offer without commitment, which brings about a slight pout, but when she plops back down, Pierce whispers something in her ear and she bursts out laughing. The fucker.
Colin is on the floor with Poppy. Her small hands are wrapped in his as he lifts her in the air above him with his feet like she is flying. Her giggles echo off the high ceilings.
When Finn and I came home, Zoe and Grace were already here. They hung out with the girls today while Sam worked on the security issues with us.
“Where’s Sam?” Finn asks, popping a piece of pepperoni in his mouth. He snags two more before Zoe slaps his hand away.
“She went to pick up Charlotte,” Grace says, sliding a tray into the oven.
I toss a beer to Quade, who’s also getting his hand slapped from the mound of cheese Zoe is grating.
“How did she seem today?” Quade asks Finn before tilting his beer back.
“Better,” Finn answers.
“How did who seem?” Grace asks.
“Sam,” Finn replies.
“What’s wrong with Sam?”
“Nothing is wrong, she just struggled to bounce back after Sunday. I think the Movie Monday outing helped.”
“Kudos to you on the outfits.” Zoe tilts her beer in my direction.
“I think today is what really did the trick,” Finn adds. “We were so busy with the security issues, she didn’t have time to worry about anything.”
“I don’t understand,” Grace says. “What happened on Sunday? Did you get a call?” she asks Zoe, who shakes her head.
“Nothing happened,” Finn says, “she just seemed…help me out here.” He looks to me to describe her countenance the last couple of days.
“She just seemed a little stuck in her head. But I’m sure it has to do with tomorrow being September 1st.”
“How do you know about September 1st?” Grace’s tone is slightly accusatory. Her level of protectiveness goes up a notch.
“We took the girls to the cemetery Sunday, and while we were there, she put flowers on her family’s graves,” I answer.
“I had no idea she lost her family,” Finn says.
After a long pause Zoe says, “She doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“Nine years ago,” Finn says. “She would have been eighteen?”
“Nineteen,” Zoe whispers.
“But she’s only twenty-seven.”
“Her birthday is September 1st,” Grace explains. My heart sinks into my stomach so suddenly, I almost spit up my beer.
“Oh my fucking God,” Quade says, his eyes are watering. “She seems so normal. How can anyone be normal after losing your entire family on your birthday?”
“She is normal, Quade.” Grace says, even though it’s clear that’s not what he means. He means how does someone survive that. The four of us have barely survived losing Everett, and the girls their parents. I say a prayer of gratitude that the girls at least have each other.
“Did you know her back then?” Finn asks. I find myself torn. I want to know more about this woman I am certainly falling for, but it seems wrong for it to come from anyone but her.
“She was my roommate at NYU the semester before, but I had moved in with my girlfriend at the time,” Zoe says. “And then after, Sam dropped out of school.”
“I’m sure she needed the time,” Quade says thoughtfully.
“She did, but she needed to work more,” Grace says, chopping peppers.
“Why?” he asks.
“They were poor. They didn’t have burial insurance, they were upside down on their house. This was right when the housing market crashed. She had to pay hospital bills, so she couldn’t afford that and school. After you took a chance on her,” she nods to Finn, “she was able to make more money and pay off her debts. That’s how she gets to go back to school now.” Grace stops and looks to Finn. “If it wasn’t for you it would be years at least before she could go back.”
“The fuck?” Finn says with a mix of emotions. Anger appears to be winning out. “I would have taken care of anything she needed. Why didn’t someone tell me?”
“You’ve met Sam, right?” Zoe shoots at him with a “don’t act stupid” look.
I squeeze his shoulder in support. My brother has a heart larger than anyone. He sees someone in need and it’s his natural reaction to want to take care of them.
“The girls are as good for Sam as she is for the girls. She would have never gone back to the gravesite if it wasn’t for them. They’re healing her. You’re healing her,” Grace adds looking at me. I glance over my shoulder to make sure she isn’t talking to someone behind me. “Yes you,” she smiles. “Now start chopping or out of the kitchen. Sam would not want us to stand around talking about her.”
“That’s our cue,” Quade says, and Finn and I follow. We are not chopping menfolk.
The lift dings and laughter fills the room.
“Sam!” Poppy runs and jumps into her arms. Sam lifts her to her hip and gives her hugs and kisses. All in five-inch heels.
“I missed you today,” Sam says, giving her a tight squeeze.
“I missed you, too,” Pops attempts to whisper. One more kiss and then Sam sets her on her feet before making her way to her room.
When she reenters a few minutes later, my gaze is drawn to her. Lately, I always know when she has entered the room. I’m falling for her. Hard. She’s become as natural to me as my own skin.
She’s wearing Finn’s sweatpants low on her hips and the top she’s wearing shows a small strip of skin between.
“Thanks for getting dinner started,” she says to Zoe and Grace as she pulls her hair into a messy pile on her head. “Alright, everyone. Time to make your pizza,” Sam shouts and the crew makes their way to the large island.
“You want to help Pops?” she asks me. She gently puts her hands on my hips to shift me to one side so she can reach the pizza crust sized for Poppy. I’m not even sure she’s aware that she’s touching me, but I have to press myself against the counter to keep my thoughts private because I’m in sweats having the control of a fucking teenager.
While Sam continues to direct traffic, I take a breath and make sure I’m decent before I lift Poppy up to the island, so she can build her pizza. Finn helps her with her sauce and she declares her pizza a masterpiece before following me to the pizza oven.
Fifteen minutes later, eleven pizzas are baking, and the girls are cleaning up the island remnants of any pizza making.
The buzz and flow of dinner has become a new normal. The only thing halting the multiple conversations is my telling the girls that Camilla and I are no longer engaged. It’s not like I was putting off telling everyone, but the time never seemed right. I have to admit, no one seems surprised or upset by the announcement. Zinnie seems almost relieved, and Poppy only understands a little. It feels awkward for the focus to be solely on me and I’m more than a little grateful when Charlotte changes the subject.
A couple hours later, Quade is putting Poppy to bed and the men are cleaning the dishes. Which, to be fair, simply means we are loading a dishwasher.
“The Walt I know goes after what he wants,” Pierce says, coming to stand beside me. His eyes land across the room on Sam.
“What are you talking about?” I bristle.
“You’re playing house. Get off your ass and do something about it.”
“She’s dating Justin.”
“Jason,” Quade corrects, now on the other side of me.
“He knows it’s Jason. He just doesn’t give a fuck,” Colin says with this Scottish twang. “And I agree. Pull your wanker out of your own arse and put it to good use.”
“She’s not just a fuck, for Christ’s sake,” Finn says. “She’s more than that to him. And she’s not just any woman. You’re going to have to pull out all the stops for her.”
That night in bed, Finn’s words play over and over in my head. What does pulling out all the stops look like? And how far is too far while this Jason bloke is in the picture?
I send a text to Finn letting him know not to expect me in the office tomorrow unless it’s an emergency. I get a simple thumbs up in response and ring Charlotte. She’s reluctant to tell me anything, but she does mention that Sam has not celebrated her birthday since the accident. She also agrees she thinks it’s time she did and gave me a few hints about things Sam hasn’t allowed herself to do in a while.
The next morning, I giddily pad my way to Zinnie’s room and gently nudge her awake.
“Go away,” she grumbles, pulling the covers over her head. Can’t say that I blame her. It’s six-thirty in the morning, but we don’t have much time before Sam wakes up.
“It’s Sam’s birthday. I’m going to make her a special breakfast. Want to help?” I ask.
“Can’t we make her a special lunch?” she asks, throwing the covers back and sliding to the floor. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” She yawns and stretches. As she makes her way to her bathroom, I go in search of a curly-headed little girl.
“Good morning, sunshine,” I say softly, sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Good morning sunbunny,” she giggles and cuddles into my neck. This one always wakes up ready for anything, but lately it seems like her first order of the day is to be assured that I’m here, so I give her all the time she needs. “You smell clean,” she says.
“Why thank you.”
When I tell her about Sam’s birthday, she jumps in excitement. I try to shush her, but she pushes me out of her room telling me she needs to find something.
I’m staring into the fridge when Zinnie walks up and stands next to me.
“Oh my God,” she says in disbelief. “You don’t know how, do you?” Her tone is one-part mocking and one-part relishing at my dilemma. I look at her and she rolls her eyes. “Fine. But you’re helping and you’re cleaning.”
“Deal.”
I spend the next thirty minutes playing sous chef. Poppy joins us with a picture she has colored for Sam and some paper board from her room.
“We have to make her the crown and stars,” Poppy says to Zinnie who smiles and nods. She cuts the shape of a crown and stars out of the board and hands Poppy the tube of aluminum foil.
“Am I late?” Finn asks, coming in from the back stairwell.
“No. Can you help Poppy tape foil on these while dad and I…” Zinnie freezes in her tracks then corrects herself. “While Walt and I finish breakfast.” No one says anything. We just give her a minute to adjust.
When she comes back to her station to flip the flapjacks, I watch as her teeth worry her bottom lip. I kiss the top of her head before I wash the blueberries she assigned me to. I have no desire to replace Everett. But I would be lying if I didn’t say there was a part of me that doesn’t hope that one day they can see me as a father figure because somewhere, I’m not sure where or when, the lines blurred for me. All I see are two beautiful girls who I think of as mine. And they are. I used to begrudge my life being turned upside down. Now…well, now I’m grateful for it.
One of my security team enters discreetly into the room with the package I was expecting. The 24-hour service at Bergdorf’s came in handy sooner than I anticipated.
Poppy places the three aluminum foil stars around her plate and the crown on top of the box, then shouts “Happy Birthday!” when Sam comes around the corner. Zinnie, Finn, and I follow suit in what is obviously a feeble and unrehearsed declaration of surprise.
To say Sam is shocked would be an understatement, and I’m about to second guess myself when Zinnie takes her hand and smiles at her. “We’re celebrating you today. And that’s okay.” They share a moment between two people who have seen the same horrors. Sam nods tearfully and wraps her in an embrace and then gives Finn and Poppy a kiss and a thank you. I’m at the stove plating the last of the eggs when she gives my arm a squeeze and a peck to my cheek.
“Thank you,” she says.
Like a complete moron, I don’t respond. I don’t tell her that I could give her the world if she would let me. I don’t tell her that without her, my relationship with the girls would have never happened. I don’t tell her that I see her for who she is. I don’t tell her. I just nod my head in affirmation and hand her a plate of eggs. Fucking eggs.
We take our seats and Poppy proceeds to explain that the crown and stars are a tradition in their family. If it’s your birthday, you wear the crown for breakfast, and you are given three stars to wish upon.
Sam pauses to think of her wishes and makes them without sharing. And in some ways I feel cheated that I don’t know what they are, so I can make them happen.
“How did you know it was my birthday?”
“We have our ways,” Zinnie says.
“Finn told you.” Sam gives him a side-eye glance but none of us correct her. I don’t want to rat out her friends. She picks up the box that Poppy has declared is from all of us and pulls the ribbon off. Inside is a bangle with five deep-blue sapphires. It’s causal but stunning. Exactly as I described her to Ms. Smith, the personal shopper.
She gasps and makes a fuss over the gift. She slides it on and angles her wrist different ways catching the sunlight on the jewels. Her eyes are wet with emotion.
Breakfast is a success and when I announce they need to dress for fun and walking, they scatter off while Finn and I do the dishes.
“You really need to hire a maid,” Finn moans. “I’ve washed more dishes in the last several weeks than I have in a lifetime.”
“I don’t think Sam wants one. She did hire a woman who performs deep cleaning every two weeks and I still have a laundry service, but she wants the girls to have normal chores.”
“Her nobleness is giving me dishpan hands.”
The girls are ready to go by the time I wipe the last counter and we bid farewell to Finn. He takes the stairs down and we take the elevator up to the roof where there’s a helicopter waiting to take us to Coney Island.
Sam is fun. Vibrant. She likes to laugh. All things I love—I trip walking off the elevator, but catch myself. Wait. Love?
I don’t have time to dissect my thoughts because Poppy is darting towards the open door and I have to scoop her up, explaining the seriousness of getting in and out of a helicopter thirty-three stories in the air. Once we are secured inside, she climbs into my lap and clasps a shared buckle around us both. From this vantage point she can see the buildings out the window while the pilot takes us on a tour of the city before flying us to Brooklyn.
I can’t recall the last time I was at an amusement park, much less enjoyed myself. Maybe it was the company I enjoyed. Either way the day was a splendid success. The heaviness of the day before washed away in a never-ending supply of rides, games and cotton candy. The girls were the happiest I’ve ever seen them laughing and squealing. They didn’t have a care in the world and I found myself praying all their days could be amusement park days.
“It’s your turn to take her.” Zinnie says nudging my shoulder when she falls onto the bench beside me.
“How is it my turn already?” I faux grumble as Sam pulls on my arm, lifting me into a standing position.
“I can’t spin anymore, and Poppy is too short to ride with her.” Zinnie says, pointing me in the direction of the ride Sam is anxiously awaiting.
“Let’s go Walt. There’s no line.” Her fingers are wrapped around mine and she doesn’t let go even after my feet hit the pavement. I like the feel of her hand in mine. I’m addicted to her touch and it’s not even sexual. We ride the cyclone and it’s a whirlwind of rushing hills and plummeting valleys. As in all things, Sam is fearless in a challenge and leaves her hands in the air even when topping speeds of sixty miles an hour. She didn’t feel the need hold on, but that didn’t stop me from pushing her hips onto the seat every time I thought she was going to be propelled from the car. She cheers as we come to a stop and pops up as soon as the rail holding us in is released.
We wind our way back to the main path where Zinnie and Poppy are still seated, sharing a caramel apple. It’s almost dusk. We have a short time until it’s dark. We’ve been waiting to ride the Wonder Wheel at night to have the vantage point of seeing the park when it’s lit. Sam stops and tries to convince the girls to go with her on the Spook-A-Rama while we wait, but they aren’t biting. My hand is once again wrapped in hers as she steers the two of us to the added destination. The kid manning the ride, looks disinterested. The exact opposite of my riding partner who climbs into the crab shell shaped car that is ours for the duration of the ride. He gives us a spill about keeping our arms in the car and sends us on our way. We push through some doors and it’s pitch black. I literally could not see my hand if it was in front of my face. Sam shrieks when a puff of air is blown down our backs, she jumps and shifts herself against me. Her hand giving my thigh a squeeze when a scream pierces the silence. I wrap my arms around her and she willingly settles against me. She giggles when I jump slightly when animatronic rabid dogs jump against a cage directly next to me.
“You’re rather enjoying this.” I grumble teasingly.
“I am.” She says seriously, and her hand finds my cheek turning my face in her direction. A light flashes, illuminating her face and there’s a look of pure appreciation on her features. She leans forward and with the gentlest touch of her lips to my cheek she says, “Thank you Walt.”
“For what?” I ask trampling down every ounce of desire inside me trying to burst through to deepen the kiss.
“For giving me back my birthday.”
“Sounds like a good time was had by all,” Finn says in my office.
“It was a great time,” I admit, grabbing the last of the files I need. After taking the day out of the office yesterday, I have a ton of work to catch up on after Poppy goes to bed.
“It’s Thursday,” Finn prompts as I slide the last note in my pocket and close the flap on my briefcase.
“That it is.” Which means I should get to the apartment soon. It’s Sam’s night off and she has some concert she is going to with Jason. The squad was swooning over it at Tuesday’s dinner. I tried to hide my disgusted eye roll. “You having dinner with us, or have you decided to actually have a life and get out of the house?”
“Have you decided to actually tell Sam you have feelings for her?” Finn fires back as we step into the lift.
“You’ve been hiding ever since you lost the fight for your boy.” I ignore his comment and stay on my track. The one with street signs and directions. The other is a one-way street to who knows where.
“I didn’t lose my boy. I just decided he was meant for another boy and bowed out like a gentleman should.”
“Like you have any inkling of what a gentleman should and should not do.”
“Well, I’m… learning,” he chuckles, following me into the apartment.
“Perfect timing,” Sam says, walking up to Finn. “Can you zip me in this? And full disclosure, you might need grease and fishing wire to get it closed.” She takes a deep breath, her breast billowing high on her chest, and Finn reaches down to the middle of her arse and pulls her zipper up.
Fucking motherfucker. If he was off chasing dick, I would be the one zipping her up. I would know what—if anything—she has on under her dress. My finger would be guiding a path against her smooth skin for the zipper, ensuring it didn’t snag on anything.
Instead, I watch a gay man with zero appreciation for this situation zip her into a dress that she looks like she was sewn into.
“Wow,” Finn says, admiring her when he is done. “You look delicious.” He says the last part like a cheesy character from a BBC show, eliciting an eye roll from Sam.
“I thought the festival was outside?” I frown at her attire. “Aren’t you overdressed?”
“It’s inside and I’m not overdressed. I’m just dressed.”
“Like sex,” Quade adds, entering the apartment. He struggles to take his gaze off Sam and focus on me. “Ready?”
“Ready for?” I ask.
“Meeting? Prospective client?” he says, like I’m supposed to have known this.
“I have the girls,” I remind him.
“You’re meeting is on the calendar. Zinnie is watching Poppy until you get home,” Sam says, sliding into a pair of heels with Finn holding her elbow. She smooths her dress and the buzzer rings for the lift.
“Claire?” Sam says when a young girl with a soured expression walks out of the girls’ wing. “I thought you were hanging out with Zinnie tonight?”
“Yes, ma’am, I was but Zinnie isn’t up for it. She said we can hang next week after school.”
“Is everything okay?” Sam asks. Claire answers despite appearing hesitant.
“She caught Darren kissing Lauren Myers.”
“That little fu—” Sam’s hand clasps over Quade’s mouth before he can finish, then pats his cheek when she’s sure he knows better than to continue.
“I tried to help take her mind off it, but she’s just not ready.”
“The doorman will make sure you get a cab,” I tell her, showing her to the lift just as Jason is coming out. By the way Claire bats her eyes at him, I assume we could say he looks dreamy.
“You look unbelievable,” he says, admiring Sam. Blarmy arsehole. I leave the two love birds and head towards my office with Quade, but when I hear her response, I can’t help but pause as I round the corner and eavesdrop.
“So do you, but I’m sorry I can’t go tonight,” she says.
“What do you mean? You’re dressed, you’re ready to go.”
“Something’s come up with Zinnie. She needs me tonight.” It surprises me when she doesn’t offer him more of an explanation.
“You’re really sharpening those creeper skills,” Quade whispers behind me, causing me to jump. I shush him and he leans in, propping his chin on my shoulder to get into a better listening position.
“She can need you tomorrow. Let’s go,” Jason says with irritation.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.”
“But that’s just it. You can. And if you don’t, then that’s it. I won’t be with someone who isn’t committed to putting us first.”
I almost dance a jig. I know Sam, and this ultimatum won’t fly.
“Then I’m doing you a favor,” she says without an ounce of regret or question in her voice.
“These girls don’t care about you. You’re a damn nanny. The fucking hired help. I can’t believe you are choosing them over me.”
“Yeah. You should go.”
I know that tone. I have come to speak “Sam” fluently. This man needs to get on the lift quickly before Sam tells him how she really feels.
We hear some shuffling of feet and a few mumbles. She must be walking Jason to the lift. Quade and I trip over each other to get to a spot where we can hear more of the conversation, but Finn catches us, so we pretend like we were just walking out of the office.
“Idiots,” Finn mutters.
“So, I called them and said—” Quade pretends he was mid-sentence when Sam steps back into the room. “Oh,” he says, feigning surprise, “I thought you were leaving?”
“I don’t want to leave Zinnie when she’s upset,” she says stepping out of her shoes and yelling for Finn, who magically pops his head around the doorframe like he wasn’t standing there listening. “Can you unzip me?”
“How the hell would you have gotten out of this tonight?” he asks her.
“I had hoped to have someone else to do it for me,” Sam grunts on her way into her room.
“Another night maybe,” Finn offers, and I hear Sam tell him there will be no more nights with Jason, before she closes her door.
“How bad do you wish you were Finn right now?” Quade jabs.
A minute later Finn opens the door and informs me Sam said to go to my meeting, and that she would be here with the girls.
“You guys go ahead,” I tell them. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
I, regrettably, give Sam another minute to be presentable and knock on her door. I hear a muffled command to come in and when I open the door I hear her say, “I’m in here.”
I wind my way into her bedroom. All of the other nannies had a few photos out, maybe a bag here or there. The room looks like she’s been living here as long as I have. I feel a comfort wash over me just being around her things.
Her mobile rings when I enter her bathroom, and she puts it on speaker.
“Hello?” Sounds like Grace.
“Hey. Code Blue,” Sam says with a hair tie in her mouth. She’s combing her hair back with her fingers.
“What? Jason already?” Grace asks. I hear a muted shuffling on the other end.
“Actually, yes, but the Code Blue is Zinnie. Darren.”
“That little shit. I’ll cut his balls off and sew them to his face.”
“Oh my God, Grace. Leave the tough talk to Zoe.”
“I can totally pull off the trash talk.”
“Sew his balls to his face?”
“Fine. I’ll call the girls. Be there in twenty.”
“Sorry. What’s up?” Sam says, disconnecting her call before she begins washing the makeup off her face.
“You didn’t have to cancel for Zinnie. I could have taken care of her.” I pretend this is what my visit is about when clearly that’s not why I’m in here. I actually don’t know why I’m here. But instead of standing here with my dick in my hand like a total tool, I pretend this is about Zinnie.
“It’s her first breakup. She sent her best friend away. Of course I’m staying.” She runs a washcloth over her face one last time before turning off the water. She props her hip against the bathroom counter and looks at me. I can tell she knows I have something else to say. She’s missed a couple beads of water and my eyes trail them as they trickle off her cheek and fall to the curve of her breast below.
“Yes. Well. I’ll just be around the corner if you need me. Um, I mean if Zinnie needs me,” I stammer and attempt an exit that hopefully is less awkward than I feel. Her hand on the crook of my arm stops me.
“You really are doing great with the girls. I can see the difference in them.”
“Silly Sam. Don’t you see?” I lean closer to her. “The difference is you.”
I’ve stunned her into silence. This woman who has a response for everything. Before she can lessen my words with a quirky response I leave her room and freshen up in my own. The lift dings as soon as I press the call button, but it’s not empty. It’s carrying Grace and Charlotte.
“Zoe’s on her way. She’s picking up the pizzas. I brought ice cream,” Grace says. Charlotte adds, “And I brought cookie dough and Kit Kats.” She holds up a tub of raw chocolate chip cookie dough.
“Ooh, Kit Kats make everything better!” Sam says behind me.