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"Can we talk?"
"After we celebrate."
"I have to get back to work. I should make it quick."
"One drink. Please." She looks at me with need.
Okay. This is the last time I'm giving her what she wants. I might as well do it all the way.
I nod. "Okay." A glass of Cabernet will calm her down. It will make all this go down more easily.
I rack my brain. This won't be easy for her. She needs someone to call, someone who can come and comfort her. Someone else.
"Give me one minute," I s
ay.
I hate to do this to her, but I don't have a better option.
I text her mother. Can you please call Samantha in half an hour? She's really going to need to talk to you.
Her mother isn't the strongest person, but she doesn't share Samantha's father's obsession with appearances.
No. I have to do better than her mother. She had a friend, a friend she always used as an excuse when she was really visiting Edward. I still have her number somewhere.
"Make it two," I say, pointing to the bathroom in the corner. I wait until I'm inside and then I call Delia, Samantha's college roommate. I doubt they're close, but I know Delia is still in L.A.
It rings three times and she answers. "Hello."
"Hey."
"You're shitting me. Is that really you, Luke?"
I laugh. "I was worried I'd have to remind you who I was."
"No. I still remember everything that happened with you and Samantha."
She sounds guilty. So she still remembers being Samantha's excuse.
"It's okay," I say. "All water under the bridge."
"Thank God. I felt so awful. You know, I always liked you. I didn't want to lie. I just..."
"Tell you what--you can make it up to me."
"You sure?" she asks.
"Are you and Samantha still in touch?"
"Here and there."
"Can you get out of work and get to the marina quickly?"
"Sure."
"Samantha is going to be at this hotel bar. I forget the name. I hope she's not going to be devastated, but she's probably going to be devastated."
"Why?"
