In the morning, though, she felt oddly revived. Rage energized her and helped her realize that Dru might be an unbelievable asshole, but it had forced her to do the thing she should have done long ago.
She pulled up her spec script for Banker Down. It was old, several seasons old, but there was good stuff there. Her parents and her hometown were waiting for her and while she was still a whole day away from getting to see Sam, she was certain of one thing: She wasn’t ready to give up on her professional dreams just yet. For the rest of the day she binged the pilot of every sci-fi, fantasy, thriller, and paranormal show she could find online, and then that night, after another overpriced delivery, she started writing.
* * *
Amanda followed Sam’s directions and pulled into the guest space under his condo. She entered the code at the elevator up to his place. They’d been in touch as he traveled back to the States, then back to California, and decided it would be best for them to meet at his place. The closet Amanda called home wasn’t suitable for guests, and if this conversation got even more sad and depressing, they didn’t need the audience of Sam’s family checking in on them at the ranch. If he decided to cut her loose she’d send them all an apology for getting Sam mixed up with Dru’s dramatic shit. She knew he didn’t blame her, but she knew how this all looked from the outside and as far as they knew the one common denominator was her.
When the elevator chimed, announcing she’d arrived at his floor, it struck her just how completely wrung out she felt. When she wasn’t crying, she was writing, and when she wasn’t writing, she was stressing herself to the point of exhaustion trying to imagine how this conversation with Sam was going to go. After the initial panic, reality settled in. If she and Sam decided to stay together, large-scale public scrutiny would be a part of her life. She was strong, but she didn’t know if she was that strong.
She didn’t know how to feel when she saw him leaning against his doorway. She swallowed and matched the hesitant smile that stretched across his face as she made her way down the hall. The last few days made it pretty clear, but the emotions warring in her were proof that life wasn’t fair. She walked up to him, forcing her hands to stay by her sides.
“Good to see you, Cha-Cha.”
“Likewise, Tex.”
“Come on in.”
“Thanks.” Amanda slipped by him as he held the door open for her. She couldn’t help but brush his bicep as she went by. He followed, letting the door close behind them. She looked around, thinking of how modern and sterile white this place was compared to his grandmother’s palatial home. It made sense for a young, single guy who had suddenly added a lot more zeroes to his checks. But it wasn’t Sam. The white paint and the gray furniture lacked his warmth. The black-and-white art on his walls, while gorgeous, lacked his joy. No wonder he went back to Charming every chance he got.
“You’re not here much, are you?” she asked as she turned to face him. She instantly forgot her own question when she saw the look on his face. It was close to the same look he gave her when he saw her standing in the middle of that hotel room in nothing but a towel. This time though, there was something more behind it. More heat. More care. More need. She was powerless against that look.
“I am here to have a very important, very adult conversation about our future, our mutual expectations, how I can issue a formal apology to your family, especially your grandmother, but right now all I can think about is the way you’re looking at me and how much I missed you and how a good, dirty make out session that leads to the bedroom is what I really need,” she blurted out.
“You don’t owe my family an apology. They aren’t upset with you. We should definitely talk about our expectations and our future. I’m hoping that conversation involves whether you wanna have kids and where you think is the best place to honeymoon.”
Amanda laughed and kinda hoped he was only joking a little.
“We can definitely move things to my bedroom, but I wanna check in with you first. Are you okay?”
“No,” she said honestly. “Are you? Your privacy was violated by a madwoman with an unearned grudge.”
Sam chuckled a bit, then held out his hand as he nodded toward the gray sectional in the middle of the living room. “Come sit down.” Amanda joined him on the couch, resisting the urge to climb into his lap so she could soak up all his warmth and maybe kiss him a little.
“Helene said the same thing, that I didn’t do anything wrong, but I shouldn’t have told Dru about us. When she asked, actually, when she demanded that I set you two up, I saw red. Literal red. I had no idea what jealousy meant until that moment.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I just—I still can’t decide what hurts more. That I care what strangers are saying about me or the fact that I actually trusted Dru. I knew what she was like, but something in my head made me think I was somehow exempt from her poison. It was too much to think of her trying to use me to spread that shit. She had no idea how much I care about you. And this might sound how it’s going to sound, but I hated the idea of her hurting you, but I also hated the idea that she thought she was good for you. Like she’s what you need.”
“I appreciate that, Cha-Cha,
