Determined: To Win (Determined Trilogy Book 3) (19 page)

When we pulled up to my place, the skies were dark gray and Carrie was out front. She’d nabbed a parking space right outside, and was pulling a set of flat cardboard boxes out of her trunk as I walked up to her.

“Hey,” I said, putting on a brave face to mask my weariness. “Thanks again for coming.”

“Of course, Sam! Glad to help. Do you think we will be done by one? Maximo wanted to have lunch.”

“Sure, I don’t think there’s much to do. A truck is coming for the furniture later. I just wanted to pack up the smaller things. How is the Italian Stallion, anyway?”

Carrie handed me half of the cardboard boxes, and we made our way down the stone path and around the back of the house. It felt like I hadn’t been there in forever. I found myself wondering how Clark and Leslie were going to react to the news about Greg, after all he had lied to them, too. I assumed Clark wouldn’t be too keen on the idea of a felon having lived across the street. I tried to push all thoughts of Greg-the-liar out of my mind as I opened the door to the studio.

“Oh, he’s good … Sam, is everything okay?” Carrie asked, as she put the boxes down on the bed. “You still seem off.”

I looked past Carrie’s face and up at the ceiling of my tiny studio. I wasn’t sure where to start. How does one explain the complex emotions I was experiencing? And I wasn’t even sure which were the most important. That I had been kidnapped? That I had just lost my close friend and mentor? That I had been part of an elaborate scheme to capture a trans-national criminal, hell-bent on destroying my boyfriend? That I had absolutely no viable job prospects? Or that—

“I’m not sure if I should move in with David.” Is what I ended up saying, quietly.

Carrie sat down on the bed and motioned for me to join her. “What are you talking about Sam? Why the sudden change of heart?” she looked into my eyes, her concern evident. She had literally no idea what I’d been going through. Aside from losing Curtis, I had kept all of it from her. And I was about to make up for it.

I let it all go. Through sobs and screams, I told her the whole story. From beginning to end. The good parts. The bad parts. The parts that I couldn’t tell anyone, lest I know they’d judge me for it. And she listened. Gasping when appropriate, consoling me throughout. Encouraging me and telling me it was right and okay to be feeling the way I did. At the end of it, I took another tissue from the box she’d been proffering, and blew my nose.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m a terrible friend.”

She shook her head slowly, bewildered at my words. “Sam, are you nuts? You have been through hell over the last few weeks.
I’m
a terrible friend for not noticing. Come here.” She reached out and we hugged.

I wiped my nose again. “Thanks Carrie. You are the best.” I looked around the room at my studio and exhaled slowly. The closet had been emptied days ago, and a single hanger hung from the rail. Dirty dishes were still in the sink. The place reeked of loneliness. “Maybe I should move in with you instead of David.”

Carrie cracked a smile. “As much as I love you, don’t even think about it. Sam, David loves you. Nothing you’ve told me about the last few weeks makes me believe otherwise. So he pretended to take you ring shopping. It was to catch a criminal who was making your lives miserable, no wait, scratch that— that guy was ready to
kill
you, Sam. You have to forgive him. Besides, guys are dense. It’s something we ladies have to make the best of.”

I sighed and nodded. She was right. Of course.

“And you need to forget about Sara. It was years ago. She’s gone. David’s a different person now. He told you that, right? What did he call it? Puppy love? We all probably thought we were going to marry the first person we loved, right? Remember Connor Michaels?”

I chuckled for the first time all morning. “Yeah.” Connor Michaels was Carrie’s first college boyfriend. They had three months of red-hot make-out-everywhere lust. Carrie had been convinced Connor was ‘the one’ until she caught him with a teaching assistant on the last day of the semester.

“See my point? Here,” she picked up her phone and typed in something. “I just cancelled lunch with Maximo. I have an idea. Packing can wait, right?”

“Uh, sure, but…”

“Come on,” she reached out for my hands and pulled me up off the bed. Out on the street, she turned to me. “Mind if we take my car?”

“Sure, just hang on one second.” I darted over to Elliot who was waiting in the SUV a couple of spaces up.

“Els, I’m going to ride with Carrie. Are you cool with following us?”

“Sure, Sam. Not a problem.”

I scuttled back to Carrie. “All set.”

“Great. Come on, get in.”

I climbed into the rusted old Volvo and we headed down the street, toward the freeway.

“Where are we going, anyway?” I asked.

“Surprise!” Carrie said mysteriously as we started to charge up the on-ramp. We were headed for the bridge.

“San Francisco?” I said, bleakly. I still wasn’t sure if I was in the mood to be in the same city as David.

“Maybe!” she said excitedly.

I shook my head and leaned back in the seat, content to let her do the driving.

I breathed a sigh of relief as we cruised along the Embarcadero and past Fisherman’s Wharf. I don’t know why, but I’d been worried she might be taking to me to find David, and I was definitely not in the mood for that. We finally pulled into a parking spot on Larkin Street.

“We’re here!” she exclaimed gleefully.

I looked out the window. Ghirardelli Square. Sometimes Carrie knew what I needed better than I knew myself.

“Come on, come on! The ice cream isn’t going to eat itself, Sammie!”

We left the car and walked up the stairs into the old brick building. Inside, we were greeted by the smell of melting chocolate. It was heavenly. I breathed in deeply. Carrie pulled me up to the bar and ordered two brownie sundaes with extra hot fudge.

“They say chocolate is equivalent to therapy, you know. It’s like, science. Serotonin and stuff.” She beamed.

“You are the best, you know that right? I don’t think I tell you that enough,” I said, as huge bowls of decadent, gooey, chocolaty therapy were placed in front of us.

“You know what I just realized, Sam?”

“What?”

“That bitch Gina still owes you a paycheck.”

39

Following our leisurely lunch of frozen cream and sugar, Carrie dropped me back at David’s. Packing could wait. By then it had started to rain, and I dashed inside, taking the elevator up to the penthouse.

I glanced around, completely at a loss for what to do with myself. Normally I’d fire up the computer and spend some time catching up on projects for Gina, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. I sighed, wondering what the hell I was going to do for a job. I toyed with the idea of calling my mom, but given my breakdown with Carrie earlier, I quickly dismissed that option. I’d call her later, once I’d had time to settle down and figured things out.

I wandered to David’s study and perused his bookshelves, looking for something to read. My books were still at my studio, and I regretted not grabbing one. Rainy afternoons were perfect for reading. Unfortunately, most of David’s books centered on business and leadership and looked dreadfully dull. Among the titles, I found a copy of
The Great Gatsby
, probably left over from a required reading list in college. I took it into the living room and turned on a table lamp. Pulling a throw over me, I tried to settle into the story.

I managed to pull myself through the first two chapters before I gave up. I looked out the window, the rain was heavy now. Being alone with my thoughts was making me feel a little stir-crazy. I decided to solve this the way I always treated a restless feeling. By going running.

“Thomas?” I called out. Thomas appeared in the doorway almost instantly. “Thomas, I’m going to use the gym. Do I need someone to go with me?”

“No, Miss.” He smiled.

“Everything’s back to normal, then eh?” I mused.

“Yes, Miss. Unless you’d like a running partner. Although I can’t say I’m as fit as Elliot.”

I smiled. I was glad Elliot was able to go home for a change. “That’s okay, Thomas. I’ll be fine solo.”

Thomas nodded and disappeared back into the other room.

I got up and went to the bedroom, changed into my running clothes, and took the elevator down to the tenth floor. As I entered the hotel gym, I asked myself why I had only used it a few times before. It was really nice—spacious and clean with high-end finishes. I was headed to the front desk to grab a towel when I stopped mid-step.

There was someone bent over behind the counter, with a familiar thatch of dirty blond hair. I stood there, frozen, unable to scream. I remained there for a few beats, contemplating my next move.

Then the blond hair bobbed up as the figure stood, revealing the face of a teenager.

“Hi there, are you a guest of the hotel? Would you like a gym towel?” he held out a neatly rolled white towel.

I exhaled and shook myself before reaching out for the towel. “Sorry, yes, I live in one of the apartments. Thank you.”

“Oh you do? Which one? My name is Danny; I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Uh, top floor. Penthouse. I’m Sam,” I said, still shaking. God, my nerves were wrecked.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Sam. Let me know if you need anything—water, headphones, whatever.”

“Thanks, Danny.” I looked down at the floor and made my way over to the treadmills. I wondered silently how long it would take for me to re-acclimate to a life without the threat of Brian. I hopped onto the one furthest from the door and started walking. While I was warming up, I arranged my towel and key in the little plastic holders. I picked out some good running music and turned the volume way up and started to increase the speed on the treadmill. Normally I do the treadmill at about seven miles an hour, but today, that felt like a snail’s pace. I pushed on, ramping up the intensity every couple of minutes, eager for the cathartic release that only a runner’s high could provide. I felt the sweat bead on my brow, and start to run down my face. I took slow, methodical breaths, even when my lungs challenged me for more. The breaths were like meditation for me.

I ran for almost an hour, until my legs started to quiver under me. Finally when I couldn’t take it anymore, I pulled myself up off the spinning platform, bringing my feet down onto the stationary edges, as I slowed the conveyer belt. I grabbed my towel, wiped the perspiration off my face and went over to the cleaning station to borrow their spray bottle and paper towels. The gym was starting to fill up now, so I cleaned off my equipment, grabbed my things and headed back to the apartment.

Hilde was tending to a large pot in the kitchen when I got back.

“Hey Hilde,” I said, helping myself to a large bottle of mineral water from the fridge.

“Sam, how are you sweetie? Did you just go running outside? You are going to catch a cold!”

“Uhm huh,” I said between gulps. “Gym.”

“Ah, good. Wet air does wicked things to the respiratory system. Are you and David having dinner here tonight?”

I shook my head. “He said it’s Julie’s birthday today. We’re going up to Napa.”

“Never matter. The soup will keep. You can have it for lunch tomorrow. It would actually benefit from sitting a bit overnight. “

“Thanks, Hilde. It smells delicious. I’m going to go get dressed.”

Back in the bedroom, I stripped out of my sweat-soaked running clothes and ran a hot bath in David’s enormous tub, complete with lots of bubbles.

My muscles were just starting to tense up from the workout, so the warm water felt amazing as I lowered myself into it. I let out a groan of pleasure. Things could be out of whack everywhere else in the world, but a bath somehow always managed to make it all fade away. I laid there for a while, until the warmth started to dissipate, and then I made quick work of washing my hair and shaving my legs.

I wrapped myself in a large bath sheet and dried my hair before ambling over to the closet. Inside, next to the center island, a garment bag was hanging with a note on it. David’s signature move. I was still mad at him for being gone today, but a tinge of excitement crept over me as I opened the envelope.

Queen for my Queen

I cocked my head to the side and unzipped the garment bag. Inside was a gorgeous, intricately detailed Alexander McQueen cocktail dress. It was dark navy and covered with elaborate embroidery. “Stunning,” I whispered as I ran my hand over the fabric. Simple, sophisticated, yet incredibly complex and rich. I hurriedly put on a lacey lingerie set, and then giddily slipped the dress over my head. It fit perfectly. I put on some heels and stared at myself in the mirror for a minute, taking it all in. I loved the dress, but my mind started to fall back into distress. How was it possible for a man to know me, know my taste so perfectly, yet be so clueless to my other thoughts and needs?

I heard my phone buzz in the bathroom, and I walked over to it. It was David.

Do you like the dress?

How did he know…? My phone vibrated again.

You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it. I just saw it and thought of you.

I sighed. Maybe I was overthinking this, expecting him to be a mind-reader. It was just a dress. I texted him back.

It’s beautiful. I love it. Thank you.

I have a surprise for you tonight.

My body tensed.

What’s that?

If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, Samantha.

I will see you soon.

I exhaled and put the phone down. David was up to something. My mind immediately went back to that one thing. I tried to push it away, but I couldn’t. I knew I was setting myself up for disappointment by admitting that I needed certain assurances from David, but I couldn’t help it.

I glanced at the time. Fifteen minutes. Shoot, I had to get moving if I was going to be on time. I shimmied back to the bathroom. I lined my eyes and finished with a nude lipstick, shoving the tube into my evening bag before grabbing my phone and coat on the way to the elevator.