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I went ahead and switched off the speaker. I unplugged Sam’s phone and went to sit beside Sam on the sofa. When I offered his phone back to him, Sam’s hand clutched over mine around the phone and tugged me to snuggle with him. His silent confession of needing comforting. Strangely enough, his proximity or his arm around me didn’t bother me. Not at all.
“How about you choose the movie?” Sam presented the TV remote control to me.
I twisted my neck to look up at Sam. The sadness that was shadowing his face for a minute had now disappeared – or rather, concealed.
I accepted the device. “Thank you, gentleman. That earns you a few points, you know.” My mediocre attempt to bring back the earlier mood.
“I think we both got a score high enough to stop counting.”
“Yea. We do.”
The faint glint of bliss sparkling in his eyes gave me hope. Hope for our friendship. Sam and I were the perfect match. We understood each other more than I ever realized. That’s one solid foundation on which to build a great friendship.
There I was all the while that morning, deliberating if it was the right choice accepting to visit Sam’s place. That debate now seemed so pointless. Dinner was amazing. Sam’s company was even better. And even though my eyelids were already heavy with sleep, I wasn’t remotely ready to leave Sam.
At that moment, I wasn’t lonely.
* * *
Chapter Nine
As I stepped into the office building foyer, I spotted Sam queuing lonesome at the elevator. His back was at me but I knew it was him. I’d recognize that coat anywhere.
The click-clack of my heels alerted him of my approach and he looked at me over his shoulders.
I greeted him with my best poker face. “Good morning, Mr Cheater.”
Sam’s lips widened into a full grin exposing his perfect teeth. “Good morning to you too, Ms Sore-loser.”
My jaw dropped in what was my most overdramatic act. “Seriously?”
“You don’t get to be the only one calling names this early in the morning just because you can’t admit your defeat.”
“Nuh-uh. Of course I won’t accept my defeat.” I pointed an accusing finger at him. “You cheated. In all the twenty games we played. That earns me the right to solemnly crown you as the dirtiest card player I’ve ever met. No matter how many oaths you take, I’d never believe you’ve never been kicked out of a real casino before. You are one serial cheater.”
“I said Ivisitedcasinos. Never specified I played my hand at tables.”
“Wow. I see your play with words is better than your poker face. Well done, smartass.”
A bing announced the elevator’s arrival.
Sam took a step aside. “Even though you seem to have woken up all fired up to offend me, I’m still a gentleman so,” he beckoned his hand towards the elevator entrance. “after you, milady.”
Every day, I reconfirmed how it was nearly impossible to dent his solid gentleman charm. Or drop his stupid grin. But the joke’s on him. As Sam stepped into the elevator with me and caught his own reflection in the mirror, his wittiness died.
“Shit.” Sam wore the strap of his laptop bag on his shoulder to free up his hands and used them both to brush through his messy hair. Not his usual messy quiff, no. His current the-pillow-was-my-hairstylist messy kind of hair-do.
Now my turn to be a smart ass. “Quick, fix your hair. Someone here might figure out their boss had a late night on a Wednesday and didn’t come to the office fully functioning for what was possibly the first time ever. Shameful of you, Mr Webb. You should be the one setting an example here.”
His eyes shot at mine through the reflection. “I’ll tell them one of my employees took advantage of her plus points with the boss to get him drunk with her concoctions.”
Seemed like wine was my kryptonite and my cocktails were Sam’s.
I held back my grin. “Are you saying I’m not the only one who can’t handle a drink?” Couldn’t miss the golden opportunity to retort to his jabs about my overly tipsy state at that infamous dinner, could I?
“Didn’t say that.” Sam’s fingers managed to perfect the ten-second hairstyle. His hands rubbed the untrimmed stubble beneath his chin. “Your cocktails sure are lovely to drink. The after-effects? Not so much. My head is still throbbing. And I woke up after my alarm clock went off. Never happened in my whole life before. Look at me. I didn’t even have time to groom myself and worst of all, I missed my morning run. Without a good run, it’s tough for me to pick up speed for the day ahead. I hate that. But oh, look at you.” He turned around and beckoned his head towards the coffee cup clamped in the crook of my arm. “You’re all good to go. You got your caffeine to boost you through the morning and your messy hair could pass as intentionally styled that way.”
I angled my head to check out my low messy hair bun in the mirror. “Becauseit wasintentionally styled messy. Not because I came to the office with bed hair like you. And how the hell did you wear your tie?”
