Chapter 6

Samantha

“You didn’t.”

“I had to.” Samantha covered her face with her palm, then peeped through her fingers at her still-gawking friend. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I had to.”

Jessica shook her head like a poodle post-bath. Her fluffy curls bobbed and swayed with the motion, dancing over her features, partially hiding her expression—not enough. Her astonishment was evident for all to see.

All being the swanky coffee house Jessica managed. It was all boho chic and organic Fairtrade coffee beans with vegan options on the predominantly vegetarian menu.

“I go away for a week and I come back to this!”

“It’s not that bad,” she whispered. “And keep your voice down. This has to look real.”

Jessica squinted at her. “How can it look real? You’re terrified of the man!”

“No, I’m not,” she immediately grumbled, folding her arms across her chest.

She’d waited to tell her friend about the news of her ‘engagement’ while Jessica was making them coffee. Of course, that hadn’t gone well—Jess had managed to spill half the frothy almond milk all over the counter.

With the sodden dishrag in hand, Jessica waggled it at her. “You totally are. And I don’t blame you. The man’s a beast.”

“Hardly,” Samantha countered. “Look at what he’s doing for us.”

“You know what I mean. Everyone talks about him. Even here. He’s like the real life Christian Grey.” Jessica’s eyes opened wide. “You don’t think he has a Red Room of Pain too?”

Despite herself, Samantha suppressed a chuckle. Jess’s expression was a mixture of loathing and wonder. Like she was angry at herself for being excited about the notion of the Joshua Lewis having a room full of whips and nipple rings.

Considering Jessica considered herself a definite feminist, and was really very verbal about her political stance, the former made sense. The latter reaction, wonder, surprised Samantha enough to let out the giggle she’d been withholding.

Jess could be so militant sometimes that for her to flounder was very amusing.

“If he does, I won’t be the one to tell you, will I? This is purely platonic.”

Was it a mental slip that she wanted to tack on the word, unfortunately.

Shit, what was going on with her at the moment?

She really did not find Josh attractive. Well, okay, that was kind of a lie. Any woman with ovaries would find her fake fiancé attractive. It was impossible not to. With that silky hair, stern expression, the panty-melting suits that covered a body every XX chromosome responded to, there was no way any woman could hide from the visceral response he triggered.

The man was a walking catalyst for lust, and the proof of that was in Jess’ wide-eyed glance.

“Purely platonic,” she scoffed. “A guy like him never does anything to be nice.”

“You’d be surprised.” Samantha had never shared the truth of her relationship with Jamie. How could she?

Jessica was so outspoken, and so unafraid of voicing her opinions. If Samantha had told her the truth, she had no doubt Jess would have shown up at their penthouse one day just to ream Jamie a new one.

Considering the precariousness of her relationship with her then-husband, that was something she hadn’t been able to abide by.

Though she knew Jamie’s possessiveness would never have allowed him to let her go, she was well aware that marriages like hers could end badly.

And as his family was very, very rich, and hers wasn’t… well, badly took on another kind of edge.

Her throat felt thick at the thought, because Samantha knew just what a Godsend Jamie’s death had been. A thought that triggered the most guilt she’d ever felt, because what a thing to think!

There was no avoiding the truth though.

In the midst of his cocaine-soaked rages, he’d been unstoppable. When he’d slapped her sober, it had hurt. Enough to whip her head around, to make it feel like it could spin off her damn neck. But when he was high, it had turbocharged everything.

She’d gone from him being careful at the start of their marriage; hiding his nasty work by hitting her torso, grabbing her arms and shaking her so she could wear long sleeves to cover the bruises, but as he’d grown more addicted, that had changed.

She probably had more experience with a makeup brush than some professional make-up artists did; a notion that had any light-heartedness disappearing from her mood. There was no way she could laugh about her past, not when it was so recent. And not when it could have continued just as bad or ended even worse.

Gnawing at her bottom lip, she whispered, “Josh can be nice.”

“How do you know? Whenever he and Jamie hung out, you always complained about Josh. You said he was mean to you.”

She winced. “Mean, that sounds so juvenile. Are we at school or something?”

Jess snorted. “Well, I don’t know, Sam, you’re the one involved in a fake relationship. You tell me.”

Pouting, Samantha retorted, “You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“Says who?” Jessica demanded, sounding so outraged that Samantha, despite her tumble into her recent history and the downer it had caused, had to laugh. “If anything, I’m the one who’s supposed to keep you on solid ground!”

“Well, there’s definitely no risk of me taking off on a flight with you around,” Sam groused. “Anyways, you know why I’m doing this. You know I don’t really have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Says you. You know that Frank and Janice live in a whole other sphere to the likes of me and you. If they want custody, then there’s no way any judge is going to back me. They’re going to support their custody plea, and I can’t have that. I won’t have it.”

“You’re rich too,” Jessica countered. “You have no need to rely on a man like Joshua Lewis.”

“Says who? The terms of Erin’s inheritance and trust are very specific. I can’t use any of the money to fight someone in court over his guardianship. I’m allowed to pay for his housing, food, bills, his care, things like that. Not a lawyer to ensure he can stay with me. And can you even imagine the kind of attorney Frank and Janice will hire? It would cost a fortune to fight!”

Jessica pulled a face. “I still don’t like it.”

“You think I do?”

“No, but… I don’t get what’s changed. They were fine with the way things were. What’s happened?”

“They don’t like how I’m raising him.” It was a half-truth. Awkward, and stilted, she wasn’t sure if Jessica would hear the falsity behind the words. “You know what they’re like. Ultra conservative.” Even down to the alcoholic wife and the husband who really didn’t give a fuck about anything other than himself, his money, and his politics.

“How can they disapprove? Erin is loved, and he’s happy. In fact, every time I see him, I’m surprised at how happy the kid is. Considering his dad just died, you know?” She shook her head. “Surely that’s proof of how good a job you’re doing.”

Samantha cleared her throat, uneasy with how close to the truth they were running with this conversation. “Where’s that coffee?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

It worked, but Jess’s narrowed eyes told her that this chat wasn’t over.

She sighed at the thought, but reached forward for the mug Jessica passed her. It wasn’t what she really wanted to drink—but it was the best of a bad job. She hated almond milk, and the way the café shop sweetened everything with Stevia? Ugh. Still, she never wanted to offend Jess. This kind of lifestyle was important to her vegan friend, and whatever Samantha was, she was supportive.

Even if that meant having to put up with bad coffee and sandwiches made from chickpea flour wraps.

When Jess rounded the counter, a dull oak plank that had been salvaged from somewhere or other, she jerked her chin at a free table in the corner of the café.

The place was filled with ethnic colors that were definitely cheerful. Even if the coffee wasn’t the best, a part of Samantha always felt lifted after coming here. They were in the heart of a really African neighborhood. So, the tribal decorations were the real deal, provided by a few of the families who owned the coffee shop—Jessica’s included. The first time her friend had shown her this place, she’d pointed to a scarf that her grandmother had worn about her head in the old country.

It still astonished Samantha to see it because the colors were so vibrant, it was like it had been made last year and not last century.

The tables were all scrubbed oak too, and the chairs were comfortable armchairs that invited customers to take a seat and relax with a book. The vibe here was so chilled that Samantha always liked meeting her friend here.

It was so different to the life she’d led with Jamie. So simple and basic. Just like her life had once been.

The truth was, even though she’d never be able to tell Jess everything, she was so grateful she’d bumped into the other woman at a yoga class.

Some days, Samantha felt sure Jessica and Erin were the only things that had gotten her through the darkest moments with Jamie.

Throat thick again, she tried to shake off the emotion haunting her. She’d been doing so well, but recent events had really stirred the old ghosts up. She’d tried to put Jamie and his abuse in the past, burying it away like it was a dead body. But now, things were being dragged to the surface and for all that she was strong, Samantha wasn’t sure if she could handle having to deal with the resurrection of memories that belonged firmly in the past.

Settling on the chintz armchair, she watched as Jess cast a weathered eye over the coffee shop. It was their quiet time, just before the post-workday-end rush. Things grew calm after lunch and got busier again around six. Samantha liked to visit at threeish on these days. It meant Jess could relax some after a stressful lunch period, but also keep things ticking over with the other members of staff picking up most of the strain.

When Jessica rested her ample curves in a matching chintz armchair, bright purple, however, in contrast to Samantha’s bright pink, she tilted her head back against the rest and murmured, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” she warned. Her chestnut eyes were serious. Her lips mutinous. “I don’t like this. You’re putting yourself in a dangerous man’s pocket.”

Samantha couldn’t stop herself from snorting. “He’s not in the mob, Jess.” And her friend really didn’t know the danger Samantha had been in before...

“No, but he might as well be. You know how those international conglomerates work. Everything is so linked, that the network is tangled.”

“You’ve been watching too many Facebook videos about anti-capitalism,” Samantha accused, wagging her finger at Jessica as she leaned forward to grab the cookie Jessica had tucked onto the saucer holding her coffee mug.

“No. I haven’t. I shared that photo with you. The one that shows how few corporations actually exist in the world? They’re all owned by the same people. They just have different names so they seem separate, but they’re not. Mr Lewis’s Stradi Group is one of those corporations. When I was reading it, I noticed it because hell, how could I not? I know someone who actually knows him.”

Samantha narrowed her eyes at Jessica as she tried not to wince at the flaxseed cookie. How people ate this stuff was beyond her, but she had to admit, it was good for the environment so she always took some home for Erin to have as a treat.

If he was raised with this crap, he wouldn’t know that things like Oreos existed.

Yum, Oreos.

Mouth-watering enough to let her swallow the damn cookie down, Samantha grumbled, “What do you want me to do, Jess? Lose Erin to those bottom feeders?”

“No,” Jessica said on a sigh. She reached up to curl one of her lustrous corkscrew locks around her finger. In contrast to Samantha’s deadly dull, straighter than straight hair, it was a vibrant and vivacious display of abundance.

Samantha was always jealous of Jess’s hair.

“Then, what?” Samantha shrugged. “What can I do?”

“Anything apart from get into bed with the devil.” She took a sip of her coffee, then mumbled, “Surely there’s somebody else who could help?”

“Nobody that Frank and Janice respect more than Josh. And even then, they don’t respect him that much. Remember, I told you they thought we were having an affair.”

Jessica chuckled. “Yeah, I always thought that was the dumbest thing ever. I mean, really, they only had to see the two of you together to know you were piss scared of him.”

Samantha scowled. “I wasn’t scared of him.” Dammit, why wasn’t Jess letting that drop?

Jess was way off base with this, but it was hard to explain because she had been scared, scared of Jamie. Jess had picked up on all the right vibes but had attached them to the wrong guy.

“You totally were. You were so nervous whenever I saw you together.”

“I think you saw me with them once.”

And that had been by accident. Jessica had run into them after a date at a very swanky restaurant Josh had insisted on taking her and Jamie to to celebrate their third-year anniversary.

Some women might have thought it was odd for a guy’s best friend to tag along on an anniversary date—Samantha had just been happy to share Jamie’s attention and not be the full recipient of it.

Ironically enough, that had been the only decent anniversary meal she’d ever had with her husband.

Go figure.

“Once, and that was mostly because, you know…” Samantha winced.

“Jamie wouldn’t have approved of me.”

“Well, you know what he was like.”

Jessica snorted. “Racist?”

“Well, yeah. That. But also, you know… He didn’t approve of feminists.”

“Women with a voice. Look, I know he was your husband, and I’m sorry you lost him, but ugh. The guy could be so small-minded sometimes.”

Hah! Like Jessica needed to tell her that!

“He was very close-minded, that’s for sure. And I wasn’t ashamed of you. Genuinely, I wasn’t,” Samantha insisted, when Jess shot her a wry look. “Just, Jamie could be very draining. In a fight, he used to get louder and louder, and shout more and more until I just had to kowtow or fear for my damn eardrums.” That was about as PC as she could make it. “Dealing with that wasn’t worth the hassle. I wasn’t going to stop being friends with you, so if I had to keep you a secret…” She shrugged. “I saw no reason to clue him in.”

“See no evil, hear no evil, eh?” Jessica teased, and Samantha was relieved her friend wasn’t offended.

“Yeah.”

Jessica had no idea how bang on the money she was!

“Josh isn’t like that though, is he?”

Samantha shrugged. “Don’t know. Wouldn’t matter if he was. Like I said. This is all show.”

“I don’t believe it,” Jessica grumbled. “Why would he get involved? Surely he’d be on Frank and Janice’s side?”

“I don’t know why he’s agreed to help me. Just that he has. And I’m very grateful.”

“He might be playing games with you, Sam. Be careful, that’s all I’m saying.”

Because the words definitely came from the heart, she shot her friend a warm smile. “I know. And I appreciate the fact you give a damn.”

“Of course, I do,” Jessica countered. “You’re my friend.”

Samantha bit her lip, because she knew Jess was unaware of how much that mattered to her. “Still, thanks,” she whispered croakily, and reached for her coffee to hide the tremor in her mouth.

“All I’m saying is that if the dude does have a Red Room, then I want pictures.”

Almost spraying out the sickly coffee onto Jessica’s pretty cream dress, Sam whacked her hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she garbled, then pealed off into laughter.

She’d needed this visit. Badly.