Finn stays after dinner and we shoot some hoops in the gym we share on the floor above my condo. After Zinnie passed out from the exhaustion, I carried her to her bed where she woke up and cried some more. I sat with her until I was certain she was sound asleep.
Eventually, I left her and went back to hash out the business details with the guys, which I should have done from the beginning. I went over all the items Reid Beckett had advised me on and together we made the decision to share a secondary trust for the girls. Then we discussed the best way to protect the girls from someone later in their life using them only to access their wealth. It’s not something the girls need to worry about now, but it’s something we need to consider when setting a trust’s parameters.
Without question, we are on track to making better decisions for the girls. I feel considerably lighter than I did earlier today but still weighted from the hard things to come.
I miss my shot and Finn makes a comment about my lack of focus.
“Although, you didn’t appear to have a problem focusing at the gala the other night,” he says, sinking his shot. He checks it to me and I work my way toward the basket.
“Come on, little brother. You know I rarely lose focus. But what specifically are you speaking of?” I fake past him, shoot, make it, and grab my own rebound.
I move back to the top of the key and we both catch our breaths. Finn wipes a bit of sweat off his brow before I charge the board again.
“I’ve never seen you possessive about anything in your whole life, but one guy just glanced in Sam’s direction, whom you never took your eyes off of, and you were ready to throttle someone.”
I stumble and miss my shot. Finn makes a show of looking at the floor to see what imaginary bump I stumbled over.
“I need her focused on the girls. She can’t do that if some arsehole has her distracted.”
“If you say so,” Finn chuckles, stealing the ball for a layup.
I take a seat on the floor, breathing heavily.
“Need a break old man?” Finn squats down in front of me.
“I can’t even tell you how much I’ve aged over the last five months,” I admit, laying back, greedily sucking in air.
“Let me ask you something. Do you feel like you have a little more balance after this evening?”
“I don’t know, man. I just wish that life gave you a map, you know? Made you an outline. Explained which chapters were hard. Showed you where the accidents were. Where the streets aren’t finished. Which way to turn. I have an app on my phone that can get me from here to bumblefuck, but I can’t figure out what the hell is around the next corner.”
“It’ll come soon enough.” He seems a little surprised that I so readily admitted that I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing. But I’m too tired to not pretend it’s not how I’m feeling.
“I was looking for the Seleske file the other day. The one you said you left on your desk.”
“Yeah. I saw it was gone. I figured you had it.”
“I saw the brochures for boarding schools. Please tell me you are not going to ship those girls off.”
I release an animalistic noise as I pull myself up into a sitting position.
“I don’t know yet.”
“I’m your brother and I will always love you, but if you send those girls away, I don’t know if that is something I can forgive.”
Ouch. Hearing that hurts more than I thought it would.
“What if it’s what is best for them?”
“It’s not.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I am. I have eyes. I can see.”
“Camilla—”
“Is a bitch for even suggesting it.”
“That’s not fair. This has been an adjustment for her, too.”
“Please. You and Camilla have always had a relationship of convenience and comfort. You were both selfish when you decided to get engaged. The relationship was a fit for both of you at the time.”
“I’m not sure it fits me anymore. To be honest I don’t recognize that person anymore.” I admit.
“Good. He was a daft prick.”
“If you felt that way, why didn’t you say something? You would let me marry someone you don’t like or respect?” I ask indignantly.
“I like and respect Camilla. I just think she’s a very different person than you are now, and if she tries to send my nieces to a boarding school, I don’t know if I can be responsible for my actions. But that would be on you, bro. Because you hold the power to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Speaking of Camilla, can you keep the girls Thursday night? It’s Sam’s night off and I swear it always seems to be the only night I can’t change my plans.”
“Sure. Maybe I’ll take them to a Yankees game.”
“You’re such a motherfucker,” I laugh. “Now, help an old man up.”
Finn and I part ways in the stairwell when I stop at my floor and he heads down one more flight to his.
I swing by my office to grab a few reports to read before checking on Zinnie. Her room is empty. I look in all the places I think she might be, but can’t find her. I ring her mobile, but it just leads me to her bedside table. I call Sam’s. No answer. I call Finn. He hasn’t seen her either. By the time I have Zoe on the phone learning Sam came back a couple of hours ago, Finn is standing in the apartment ringing security, who is in the apartment seconds later.
The security on the door confirms they didn’t leave through the lobby and moments later the security feed shows them on the deck outside.
“Fuck. I think it’s their goal to give me a fucking heart attack.” I breathe a sigh of agitation and relief, and in that moment I’m hit with a hundred percent clarity that I don’t want to be separated from the girls. Boarding school is not an option.
“Jesus. Me, too. Remind me to teach Sam how to leave a damn note,” Finn grumbles before heading back to his place. I slide open the door leading to the terrace, a space that has gone virtually unused until recently.
Around the corner on the west side of the terrace, I find them on a double-wide chaise lounge outside of Sam’s room. Zinnie has entwined herself around Sam, who is wrapped around her in a way that makes it seem like she’s helping to protect Zinnie. Something I reason she needs right now. They are both sound asleep, the remnants of tears streak Zinnie’s face.
I enter into Sam’s apartment to search out a blanket, and I notice she has unpacked some more boxes. There are pictures I haven’t seen before. These must be her parents. I’m not sure two people could look more in love than they do in this picture. A family picture: her, her parents, and those must be her siblings. Then there’s a picture of her and a little boy. Her and her squad. A graduation picture. Setting the frame down, I grab the quilt off of Sam’s couch and cover them both, leaving them each with a kiss to the forehead and to sleep in the great outdoors.
The next morning, they’re up before I am, making breakfast. Finn is at the bar drinking coffee and reading a paper.
“What are your plans for today?” I ask, pouring my tea.
“I forgot to look at the calendar?” Zinnie says, looking over her shoulder to Sam. “What are we doing today?”
“Well, I talked to your grandparents and Poppy is having fun with the little girl who lives next door, so I thought we would wait and get her this afternoon.” She turns, handing me and Finn each a plate of breakfast before carrying hers and Zinnie’s to the table. “And since you are on lockdown from the movies…” Sam glances up to see Zinnie frowning at her, pepper shaker in hand halted mid shake. “Too soon?” Sam asks, chomping on a piece of bacon, she and Finn laughing. I see a hint of a twitch to Zinnie’s lip but she looks determined not to let her snicker out. Seeing that’s all she gets, Sam moves on.
“As I was saying, I thought we might spend the day together. There’s an exhibit at The Met on the history of fashion I thought you might enjoy. Also, I texted a friend and she can meet us for lunch today. I thought you might be interested to see her studio.”
“That sounds okay.”
“Yeah?” Sam says with a bit of hopefulness.
“Yeah. I’d really like that,” Zinnie confirms thoughtfully.
The lift pings, and Quade saunters into the room.
“Yes. Bacon.” He gives a fist pump of excitement for pork and piles it on a plate. “This always reminds me of uni.” He points to his plate of eggs, bacon, tomatoes and toast. “The only thing missing is…”
“Baked beans,” Finn, Quade, and I finish in unison.
“Yuck,” Zinnie says, scrunching up her nose. “Baked beans for breakfast?” Zinnie shudders like she might just gag.
“What are you doing here?” I ask Quade.
“Early for our meeting. Thought I would come see what was going on. I wanted to ask if you needed me to take the girls tomorrow night since you are going to that benefit. I know it’s Sam’s night off.”
“Oh, are you and Jason still going to that art opening you were telling me about?” Zinnie eagerly asks with round eyes like she is dying to know more.
“We are,” Sam answers coolly.
“This is what? Date five?”
“Six,” Sam corrects her.
“Wow. That’s exciting. So, you won’t be coming home then?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” I ask Zinnie.
“It’s the sixth date,” she says, like I am ridiculous for even asking. “The date you have sex on.”
Everyone at the table either chokes on their food or looks like they just ate something sour.
“Who told you that?” Samantha asks. She’s the only one slightly amused.
“Kimmie. She read it in Cosmo.”
“Don’t believe everything you read. There’s more to it than the number of dates. Like love, maturity, preparedness.”
“How many dates have you been on with Darren?” Quade asks looking green.
“Like a hundred,” she rolls her eyes, “but don’t worry. I promised my dad I wouldn’t have sex before I was twenty. I plan on honoring that promise. And even then, he has to check all the boxes my dad and I agreed upon. But I’m a girl and Sam is a woman and sometimes women just want to have down and dirty sex. She’s old enough to decide for herself.” Zinnie shrugs like this is the most natural conversation.
“I appreciate the girl power,” Sam says, raising a fist in unity, “but I’m not sleeping with him on date six.”
“What’s your number then?” Quade asks.
“I don’t have a number.”
“Bullshi…hockey,” Finn says.
“It’s true. Just depends on the guy.”
“I hardly think this conversation is appropriate for a fifteen-year-old,” I chastise.
“You already slept with him,” Zinnie sings, proud of herself for figuring it out.
“Oh my God.” Sam rolls her eyes. “Clean up. We need to get going. I’d rather her talk to us than Kimmie who gets her information from Cosmo.”
She has a point.
“If you don’t do it with Jason, you should go out with Colin.”
“Colin?” Quade and I yelp together.
“Yes, Colin,” Zinnie says dreamily.
“It’s the man bun and beard, isn’t it?” Samantha winks at her in solidarity.
“And the Scottish accent.”
“I have a British accent. I don’t see you wanting to go out with me,” Finn says.
“You’re gay, Finn.”
“Thank you, Zinnie. I didn’t know that.” He winks at her.
“Colin. Colin is…whew. Just…whew. You should totally sixth date, Colin,” Zinnie says.
“Go get dressed,” Samantha laughs.
“Jason. What, is she working her way through the J’s?” I ask under my breath while Sam loads the dishwasher.
“A long way to go till she gets to the W’s,” Quade snickers.
After lunch, Quade, Finn, and I attend our meeting about the project we are working on with the company in China. Right now our project lead is presenting via video conference, so I steal another look at my phone to see if Sam has posted any new pics of her outing with Zinnie yet.
Finally. It’s of Zinnie studying a beautiful ball gown that looks to be from the late 18th century. The sunlight is at such an angle that Zinnie’s face looks angelic. The caption simply reads “Beauty”. And it is. My mom has commented with several faces that have heart eyes, which I take to mean she likes the picture.
There’s a selfie of the two of them eating a large pretzel with the Plaza in the background, with the caption “Twisted up in knots over spending the day together”.
A selfie of Zinnie with Emme and Jules Taylor in their design studio, and another of Zinnie, Sam, Jules, and Emme at a donut shop with an empty box on the table in front of them. The caption reads: Emme wanted donuts.
“For someone who didn’t think the girls should be on Instagram, you sure have checked it all day,” Finn whispers.
“I love it,” Quade whispers back.
“You can stop whispering,” the project lead laughs. “The call ended.”
“Thank Christ,” Colin says, entering the conference room. “I didn’t think it would ever be over.” He plops in the chair next to Finn.
“What?” he asks when Quade and I greet him with a scowl.
Zinnie’s door is still missing when I find her in her room Thursday night.
“Quade and Finn are here,” I tell her, straightening my shirt collar. At least I don’t have to wear a tie and jacket to this thing tonight. I would rather just give the money and stay home with the girls, but Camilla insists we need to be seen.
“I’ll be right there.” She types something into her laptop before slapping the top closed and then follows me to the main room where Camilla has arrived.
“Darling.” She smiles at me. “Lipstick,” she adds when I move to kiss her. My cheek brushes hers, my kiss falling to the air. She’s dressed in jeans that fall just short of her ankles, heels and a simple short sleeve navy jumper, or sweater as Americans call it.
“Mila!” Poppy screeches and runs to her for a hug. Camilla hasn’t seen the girls in a few weeks.
“Ca-milla.” She sounds out the correction for Poppy, stopping her before she hugs her legs. “Sorry dear. We have a party we’re going to.” Her hand is wrapped around Poppy’s wrist, holding her at arm’s length.
“Quade and Finn are going to take you out to have some fun tonight,” I remind Poppy.
“Yay!” She jumps up and down clapping.
If only life were always as easy as this.
Sam glides into the main room obliterating that thought. She’s wearing a white dress that falls just above her knees. It has a simple crew-neck collar and her arms are completely covered. Is it wrong that I’m happy she is completely covered? Because she is stunning in white. Fucking glowing.
“Sam!” Poppy shrieks and runs towards her. Sam squats, balancing on her six-inch heels, and when Poppy reaches her, she throws her arms around Sam’s neck.
Sam stands, lifting Poppy with her.
“I’m going with Finn and Quade,” Poppy whispers loudly and gleefully.
“I heard,” Sam whispers gleefully back, and Poppy plants a loud wet kiss on her lips.
“Thank you for your sweet kiss. But you are a sticky mess. Zinnie, would you mind taking her to change?”
“Sure. Let’s go, Pops.” Zinnie holds out her hand, and when Sam sets Poppy down she runs into it.
The lift dings and a man I’ve never seen before enters the living area. Sam clicks her way over to him and stands on the tips of her toes to let him kiss her. Her entire fucking back is exposed. Fuck me, dammit. There’s a slight sound of lips touching and when he pulls back he smiles.
“Strawberry?”
“Poppy just gave me a kiss.”
“Aww,” he says and plants one more on her.
She introduces Jason to everyone and then politely excuses herself. “I’m just gonna change,” she laughs, pointing to her dress. There’s a sticky, pink, glittery hand print on the sleeve and what looks like a red smudge of lipstick near her hip.
She leaves everyone in an awkward silence. After a moment, I say to Finn, “Text me when you’re back here with the girls.”
“I’m ready.” Samantha says brightly. She’s just as quickly changed into a pair of black leather shorts with gold buttons on the hip and a black shirt that is opened lower than necessary. She has a small, rectangle clutch balanced between her teeth, and she’s pulling her hair into a ponytail.
Camilla offers to share our lift with her and Jason. “Talk about a one-eighty,” Jason says on our way down. His hand lands on the curve of her behind as his other takes her purse for her. She puts in gold hoop earrings before taking it back. “You look amazing.” He kisses her temple, and I fucking want to rip those lips off his face.
“Where are you kids off to tonight?” Camilla asks with a fake smile. Kids? This tallywhacker can’t be more than a year or two younger than me.
“A new art exhibit is opening at the Lichterman Gallery,” Jason answers.
I say a litany of gratitude to all that is holy when the doors open and we go our separate ways. Outside, I hold the car door open and watch Jason’s arm skate around Samantha’s waist as they walk in the opposite direction. Camilla calling my name snaps me back into the present and I slide in behind her.
“Thank Christ this event is at least causal. Let’s get out of here as soon as possible,” I mumble.
“Stop your whining. We need at least an hour to mingle, and it would be rude if we left before ten.”
It’s seven now. “I am not staying three hours at some benefit I don’t even care about.”
“Harriet and Charles are our friends,” she says from her side of the car. We’re not even touching. If it were Sam in her seat, I’d already have her back against the door, knickers slid to her ankles, eating her out like a man having his last meal…and now my dick could be used for batting practice.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I blurt out.
“Fine. Two hours, but we’ll need an excuse,” she huffs.
“No, this. Us.”
“What are you saying?” For the first time in a long time I have her full attention.
“I’m saying…I’m not happy. This is not what I want.”
“Since when? We’ve always wanted the same things.”
“Since the girls.” It’s a truthful answer. This is more than just Sam and what I’ve been feeling for her lately.
“Oh, well. Just be patient, darling. It will be better once we have them enrolled at St. Mary’s.”
“I’m not enrolling the girls in a boarding school.”
“But we decided that was what was best for them.” She seems genuinely shocked by my announcement.
“No, you decided that was what was best. For you. For us. And maybe it was at first, but not anymore. I’m not the same person I was five months ago. I don’t want the same things. I’m sorry. I truly am. You haven’t changed. I have.”
“You’re giving me the ‘it’s not you it’s me’ speech?” Her expression is stoic, but her tone is incredulous.
“Appears so, but only because it applies. It really isn’t you. It really is me.” It’s true. Camilla has never misled me about what she wanted. But over these past few months, it seems I’ve been misleading her.
Our car pulls to the curb in front of the townhouse, and we sit idle for a moment while Camilla opens a compact and checks her makeup. There’s a slight tremor in her fingers. It’s the only sign she gives that this is emotional for her.
“We’ll be ready by ten,” she tells my driver then opens the door. “We’re going in here. We’ll put on the air of a couple in love, then we’ll part ways after. Remind me to give you the ring.”
Does it make me a bastard to have expected a little resistance? I mean we were, after all, engaged to be married. Okay, yes, that makes me a dick, because even though I’m not ending this because of Sam and I haven’t acted on my feelings for her, they’re still there. But I’ve barely admitted them to myself, I’m not ready to admit them to Camilla. And I get the feeling they wouldn’t be appreciated. Camilla and I won’t be that couple you read about who broke up and remained friends. No. We will part ways after this and that will be it.
“I don’t want the ring back,” I tell her.
“Let’s go.”
“Camilla,” I sigh. “I really don’t—”
“You will do this, Walt.”
And I do.