Premiere: A Love Story (26 page)

“I doubt it. She’s like an iceberg.”

Sam laughed as they approached the table and the men stood. Grady left her to go talk about the parrot. She looked toward the gentlemen, standing to make her greetings and niceties. To her left, hands stuck in his tuxedo pants, jacket over the back of his chair, looking rumpled with a fairly decent chip on his shoulder, was Peter. She was surprised to see him.

The whole event was painful for him. Anyone could see it in his eyes, but he was there for Grady, and to show his support for Senator Malendar
.
Another obligation bestowed on the head of the Everoad house while he was in Pasadena. But it was just one night. While Sam didn’t know what it was like to manage one production and bring up another, she felt as if Peter could spare one night.

Sam kissed her father on the cheek and then made her way around the table to the seat next to Peter. She kissed him gently and he took her hand. She looked into his eyes, and in the middle of this formal event, she pictured him laying next to her. He stared straight at her, not through her, into her eyes. With a gentle tug he pulled Sam closer and gracefully, it was downright graceful, drew her hand to his lips. Sam could feel his warm breath on her hand, and he paused, lingered. Once again, everyone else in the room faded away, and there she was with Peter. The kiss to her hand was soft, but strong, as if he was trying to hold her.

“Hi,” he said, still standing.

“Hi. How did things . . . ?”

“How long are you going to keep these poor men standing, Sam?”

Grady had returned to the table carrying a glass of champagne for Sam and noticed everyone was still standing.

“I know they’re a cute couple, but we can all sit,” he said, pulling out her chair.

Sam was beginning to wonder how many cocktails Grady had already had. The table laughed, except Peter who was not in a laughing mood. Grady threw his arm around Peter and handed him a glass of champagne.

“She can’t take her eyes off you, man. What have you done to this girl?”

Peter shifted his eyes to the table and gave Grady his usual sarcastic grin.

“You know, maybe if this thing works out at the Playhouse, we can lure you back here.”

Yup, Grady was one too many drinks into the evening,
Sam thought.

Peter laughed mid-champagne sip and said: “Thing? You mean my play? No, I belong in New York. I don’t think I could be lured . . .”

“Oh, Come on, what’s New York have that we don’t?”

“Um, Broadway and . . . my life. Once I’m done here, that is.”

“Oh, yeah, there is that.”

Grady looked to the table, and as if on cue, they erupted with laughter. Peter realized a little too late what had flown out of his mouth. He could feel Sam’s reaction, but he was too tired to care.
This was a bad idea, I should not have come tonight.
He couldn’t take one more minute of useless small talk and watching the Sam and Grady show. They were always more comfortable with this crap. He needed to catch the red-eye to New York. They were having an emergency casting call in the morning in the hopes of replacing the lead before the next six-week run started. Promotional materials would need to be reprinted. It was becoming a small nightmare, and he was sitting here once again drinking champagne.
Christ, was that all these people did?

Sam got the message loud and clear. She told herself to cut him some slack, but the sentiment, the need to return to his “life” as he called it, had been strong since they had returned from Catalina. There was pressure now, and Peter lost some of his flowery luster under pressure. His words became clipped and he could bite back if necessary. Grady’s comments were ridiculous, but Peter’s reaction truthful, unfiltered. Sam could feel her throat tighten.

Grady headed back to the bar, but his PR “babysitter” as he called her, very subtly cut him off by trying to start a conversation. He smiled at her but Sam could tell he was annoyed. Trying to defuse the situation, Sam grabbed Grady and they hit the dance floor. They laughed and had a great time, in spite of Peter and “the babysitter.” Grady was always up for a good time. Dinner was the standard rubber chicken, and even though the speeches were slow, it reaffirmed for Sam that Senator Malendar was one of the good guys in Washington. His campaign was important. Sam would be supportive financially and give of her time, as she had in elections past.

Peter chewed the ice from his water glass and watched Sam dancing with Grady. She was avoiding him, and quite frankly, he didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. He received confirmation from Alexis that she’d booked his flight. He needed to get to the airport. He looked up to find his mother asking Mr. Cathner to take her for a “spin around the dance floor.”
Christ,
Peter thought his jaw would shatter under the pressure. He was leaving. He couldn’t find Sam. She was probably off somewhere with Grady.
And wasn
’
t that just the cherry on the cake of his day?

Jack, of course, danced with his mother, and Peter then quickly grabbed her wrap, as he’d done at hundreds of events since his father died, and ushered her out the door. He would escort her home and get to the airport. Sam was walking back from the bathroom when she saw Peter tip the valet and drive away. She pushed through the glass doors to try and catch him, but she was too late.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

G
rady agreed to take Sam home. Right as Norah Jones started singing “Turn Me On,” the other car’s headlights flashed in her face. She felt nothing but a heavy push. She heard metal crunch and something screeching, followed by spinning like she was on a fair ride. She felt her head slam into the side window. Pain pulsed down her cheek, and her chest was in a vise that she thought may have been the seatbelt holding on for dear life. As the car continued to spin, Sam heard Grady’s voice, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. She tried to turn and face him, but the force wouldn’t allow her to move her head. It felt like a slow motion movie scene, but was painfully real. The car jerked to a stop, Sam felt her head hit the side window again, and then everything went black.

Sam woke up in a hospital bed as the sun peeked through the blinds of the window. It was morning, but which morning? She tried to focus. Grady was asleep in the chair next to the bed. He was still in his tux, so she couldn’t have been out that long.
What the hell happened?
She reached for the plastic pitcher of water, knocked over the cup, and Grady sat upright, startled, eyes heavy. He had a bandage on his head and moved stiffly out of the chair to stand next to her.

“I’m in big trouble now,” he said, carefully taking her hand.

“Why’s that?” she managed to croak out.

“I made a deal with God that I’d never do anything stupid again if he pulled you through this with minimal damage.”

Sam started to laugh, but it hurt. She was sore.

“Easy there. See, so I’m screwed because I’ll never be able to leave the house again, or I’ll break the deal.”

He poured her a glass of water and eased the back of the bed up.

“Before I tell you why you’re in the hospital, I want to say, in case I’ve never said it before, I love you.”

His eyes watered, and then he started to laugh.

“I’m fine.”

“I know . . . but when I saw you in my car it was so . . . Christ . . .”

He wiped away a tear.

“What happened?”

“Some jackass ran a red light, that’s what happened, and he completely ruined our evening. You took most of the impact and some very strapping firefighters came to your rescue. You were knocked out. You have a minor concussion and a broken arm.”

Henry and her parents entered the room with coffee from the cafeteria. Henry handed Grady a coffee and something in a bag, then leaned over, and gently kissed Sam’s cheek.

“Scared me to death, sis. How’re you feeling?”

“I think I remember waking up for the cast, but I missed the firefighters. Damn!”

Sam’s voice was back with the help of the water. She felt like someone beat her up, but she would be fine. She had never broken anything before.

“Thank God, you’re okay, honey,” her mother said, taking her hand, and sitting in the chair Grady offered.

“Brian was on the scene. Poor guy had no idea who he was rescuing. Had to cut you out of the car, Button,” her father added gently, brushing her cheek, and then he too sat down.

“Brian? Was there? Oh, I need to thank him.”

Sam tried to sit up too quickly, and her body sent a reminder she had been in a car accident. She lay back down.

“He’s already checked on you. He’s back at the station. I’m sure you can thank him later,” Grady added, carefully biting into a bagel.

Sam noticed his lip was cut. She moved her legs and did a mental inventory of her body. She was sore, but everything appeared to be in the right place.

“Do I even want to look at my face?” Sam asked her mother.

“It’s fine, honey. You were wearing your seatbelt, so there are some scratches, but nothing major.”

Her mom dug a mirror out of her purse and handed it to Sam. She looked through the small, round mirror and noticed she had a black and blue knot on her forehead and a cut on her cheek. Other than that, she was lucky. Really lucky. Sam rested her head back on the pillow and then she realized what was missing.

“Peter,” she said, looking at Grady.

“Did . . . please tell me someone called Peter.”

With that everyone except Grady stood, kissed Sam again, and said they were going to let her rest and they would be in the waiting area. It was a mass exodus because no one wanted to have this conversation. Grady stood alone. Thank God he’d had some coffee because he was going to need it.

“Where the hell is everyone going? Is he here?”

Grady took a deep breath, as deep as his aching ribs would allow.

“Henry called him, Sam. He knows, and he’s on his way back.”

“On his way back from where?”

Sam scooted up a little in the bed.

“New York. He was on a plane when Henry called, but he called me back when he landed.”

“What? Why the hell was he on a plane? I didn’t even know he was flying last night. When did he leave?”

“I guess his agent booked the flight. He left right after the fundraiser. Something about the principal actor. It doesn’t matter, Sam. He’s on his way back. I think his flight gets in at two. He’s worried sick and called again right before he got on the plane,” Grady added as Sam’s face continued to look confused and then deflated.

“So he was in New York, off to New York again.”

Sam stared straight ahead, as if she were in a trance.

“Sam, he had no way of knowing we were going to be in an accident. It was just weird timing.”

“Did you know he was flying to New York last night?”

Grady hesitated. He knew where this was going.

“No. When I talked to him he said he couldn’t find us before he left the fundraiser. He said he tried to find you, but he needed to . . .”

“Run,” Sam interrupted, looking right at Grady.

“Is that what he needed to do, he needed to run? Back to New York, something super urgent in the great big city? Didn’t have five damn minutes to wait for me to return from the bathroom, or hell, even tell the woman he’s, once again sleeping with, that he needed to catch a flight across the damn country.”

Sam was wincing from raising her voice, her ribs hurt, and Grady had no idea what to say. He opted to stand up for Peter.

“He didn’t run, Sam. He had to deal with some things. There are big issues with his show in New York, you know this. Come on, it was a shitty coincidence.”

Sam let out a small pained laugh.

“Am I the only one who sees the irony here? I am in a hospital bed, a car accident that could have taken both of our lives, put me here. I’m surrounded by my family. Christ, I was even cut out of a car by my ex-boyfriend. Even he was there. I woke up to you, even though you’re hurt too and in pain. What’s missing, once again, Grady? Who’s not here when I need him? Who’s off to New York, Grady?”

Sam didn’t wait for him to answer, she knew he wouldn’t. Sam was stunned and angry. Things had been building up over the past week, and sure, she knew Peter had responsibilities, but they all did. How were they ever going to make a life if she’s lying in a hospital bed and he’s not there? If he flew off to New York without even mentioning it to her? Was this how it was always going to be? She’d be left hanging while Peter did what Peter needed to do?
Sam, you stupid fool. That
’
s why there
’
s never a plan. He has no intentions of making a life with you.
Her head fell back to the pillow, and she closed her eyes.

“Sam, I don’t know what to say. It was one of those things. He’s on his way. He turned right around. It’s not like he doesn’t care. He loves you.”

“I don’t care. Did he even ask how you were? If you were okay?”

“He was out of his mind with worry and trying to catch another flight. Come on, Sam. Cut the guy some slack. He was on the phone with me. He knew I was fine.”