AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Was the divorce a wake-up call to you?”
Sam set the pen down as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed at his chest. His expression was dull. “In a way, yes. I had set my undivided attention to my company. Since then, I’ve expanded into advertising, I’ve engaged double the investors and signed on some big clients. Sure they were a rewarding few years but they were also the loneliest in all my life.”
“Hard to believe a handsome man like you could be lonely. You must have lots of friends and a long line of women.” I mean, I did witness him answering calls from his dates more than once and I couldn’t recall ever hearing the same name twice.
“I have a lot of acquaintances, sure. Friends? Not really.Women? Just casuals.”
Never in a million years would I have guessed that Sam Webb was an island of his own. This confident, strong man could comprehend what I was feeling more than I realized he possibly could.
I shifted in my seat towards him. This time, I was the one who smiled supportively at him. Seemed like he needed the comfort too. “It’s nice to have someone to lean on, isn’t it? To share your day with, share your worries, your joys.”
“Being a workaholic makes the task of finding a good friend quite the challenge. Who would want to befriend someone with minimal free time to keep in touch and only talk about work?”
“Another workaholic maybe?”
“Exactly. And then neither of you would have time for each other. An acquaintance lost before they were even promoted to a friend.”
Sam chuckled. So did I. Till we both burst into a full-blown laugh. And we didn’t stop. A silly laugh over nothing specifically, or rather specifically at our pathetic social life. But gosh, it sure felt good to laugh.
“We should be friends,” Sam suggested out of the blue.
I gulped my laughter. “You and I?” Then scoffed. “The other day, you plainly said you wanted our relationship to be outside the boundaries of professional and now you want to be platonic?”
“I may be bold but I’m not a horny insensitive douche,” Sam repeated the accusation I had once made at him. “I’ve seen tears in your eyes twice in less than a week. The last thing you need when you’re this lost is someone creeping all over you for a chance to peek underneath your skirt. Besides, the reason why I don’t have friends is that I don’t trust easily. You, I trust with my life.”
“Is that what you think of me? That I’m lost?”
“Aren’t you? You look like a mess?” To sustain his point, Sam pinched a strand of my wild baby hair, touched the edge of the t-shirt half untucked from my jeans and pointed at the untied lace of my sneaker. Three strikes right there and indeed, I was the walking definition of a lost mess.
All I’ve ever wanted was to climb the career ladder. And now, from the high rooftop I’ve reached, I look around and there’s no one else there. I’m smiling at my own achievements, lonesome and isolated, without a single pathway or any clear direction where to go next.
“So. What do you say?” Sam crouched down on one knee, and began to tie my shoelace. “You clearly need a friend, as do I. And honestly, I have a feeling that we’ll make a great matching pair of BFFs.”
Yes, it appeared so. We had some pretty big things in common. Ones that made a solid foundation for a friendship. Except…
I pointed a direct finger at him. “If we’re friends, no more kissing. We need to forget all about what happened between us.”
Friends or not, the kissing had to stop either way.
Sam sat back on his chair and moved it closer until it bumped into mine. His arm went around my shoulders in a friendly side hug. “Absolutely. Sure I’ll miss kissing you, and I know that so will you, but we must admit, we both need a friend more than we need kisses. Although I may need a few hugs once or twice.”
Friends with Sam sure sounded better than an affair with my boss. And having an honest label for my relationship with Sam, I felt relieved of one less worry.
“Okay. Friends.”
* * *
Chapter Eight
“Come on in.”
When Sam invited me to a strictly friendly dinner at his place and gave me his address, I had an obvious assumption that Sam’s apartment at the ritzy highrise in the poshest neighbourhood would be impressive. I imagined it to be grand and lavish, but to my surprise, I found his apartment to be so similar to his office – overly minimalistic. An open floor plan with white walls, ecru-coloured furnishings and earth-toned décor. The lounge area was just the perfect comfort – a velvet sofa with the puffiest cushions opposite the ginormous TV screen. At one corner was a long marbled bar, modestly stocked with every kind of whiskey, gins and a dozen other liquors, surrounded by chrome stools. The kitchen space was probably larger than my whole apartment. To top all that, everything everywhere was neat and organised.
I handed over the tall wooden gift box I had brought for Sam. “I got this for you, friend.”
Sam accepted the box and inspected the engraved emblem on the wood. “Wow, the best scotch in the world. Well done, friend. You guessed my favourite drink.”
“Didn’t need to guess. Scotch is a gentleman’s favourite.” I removed my coat, and to further prove my latest remark being correct, Sam was quick to take the garment from my hand before I could even turn to the coat hanger behind me and he hung it there himself. Like I said. A gentleman, indeed.
