19. Sammy
19
SAMMY
M y stomach is a knot of anxiety as I sit down on the bench in the small park Drew asked me to meet him at. I’ve spent the entire day practicing what I’m going to say to him, but now that I’m here and waiting for him, everything I planned to say sounds crazy.
How do I start to explain that the friends I made in California are both rich, influential, and crazy, and that one of them wants me to break off my engagement or he’s threatening to ruin Drew’s future? It sounds ridiculous even to me, and I’ve lived through the insanity three times now.
Twisting my hands together in my lap, I watch as Drew rounds the corner and strides over to me, pausing in front of me, his expression stony and almost unrecognizable.
“Hey,” I say, standing up and taking a step toward him.
Immediately stepping back, his dark eyes lift to mine, and I see it. Somehow, despite Evan telling me I had until Friday, Drew already knows.
“Samantha,” Drew starts.
“I need to explain,” I rush out.
Lifting his hand, he silences me, then sucks in a deep breath. “Today, I received some information about your time in California that has made me look more clearly at our relationship.”
“What information?” I question.
“Photos of you at parties, drunk, wearing…inappropriate clothing. Behaving in an unladylike way and also in a sexually compromising position.”
“What?” I ask, my brow furrowing in confusion.
“I’d rather not go into the details, but it has made me reconsider our engagement.”
“Drew,” I start.
“As a future public figure, my behavior and that of anyone I associate myself with has to be beyond question. I understand that college is a time when people experiment and explore themselves, but unfortunately, I cannot be both someone who upholds the highest moral standards and be involved with someone who has exposed themselves to alcohol, debauchery, and casual sexual encounters.”
“Are you serious?” I question.
“Utterly serious. The ring and car are, of course, yours to keep. But at this point, I think it best if we end our association with each other. I’ve booked a room for you at the Regency Hotel, and there’s a moving service currently packing up your belongings from Eloise’s house.”
“Just like that. You don’t even want to hear my side of things. I don’t even know what pictures you’re talking about.”
Holding his hand up to silence me again, he avoids my eyes, his body language uncomfortable. “Seeing those pictures once was enough. I want to assure you that they’ve all been destroyed, and neither me, nor my father or his team, have any interest in sharing those images with anyone else.”
“Your dad,” I hiss, mortification heating my face.
“An email from an anonymous sender was sent to me, my dad, and two members of our PR team. I also received a text.” Pulling his cell from his wool jacket pocket, he taps at the screen and then holds it out to show me.
The picture on the screen is of me lying on Evan’s chest, the comforter pulled low enough to show I’m only wearing a T-shirt and nothing else.
“You were with him last night,” Drew says, and for the first time, I can hear the hurt in his voice.
I don’t bother denying it, the photo isn’t fake. I could argue that I was unconscious, drugged by the man I’m lying on, but what would be the point?
Evan told me I had until Friday, but he lied. He did this. He sent Drew that picture and apparently other pictures he had of me. He not only destroyed my relationship with Drew, but he did it by making me look like a slut.
If Drew were interested in listening to my explanation, I’d tell him that he’s the only person I’ve ever had sex with. But I already know he won’t care.
“The guy in the picture is Evan Morris. He was one of my roommates back at Kingsacre. I lived with him, Sebastian Lockwood and his wife, my best friend, Starling, Clay Jansen and his wife, January, and Hunter Rossberg and his wife, Bunny. I’m not sure if you recognize their names, although you should. Their families collectively own and run some of the most successful companies in the world. I met Starling my first day at Kingsacre, and I moved into their house a couple of months later.”
“What?” Drew says, his brows drawn together.
“I lied to my parents. The house I was assigned to live in was a nightmare, so I moved out and into Collinswood House, which is a legacy house owned by the guys’ families. I didn’t tell you or my parents about my friends because I didn’t see a way that my life in California with them could ever mix with my life with you or my parents. I guess it was stupid of me, but it seemed like the right thing to do. I don’t know what pictures you saw. I could tell you about my life there, but you don’t care, and I’m not going to beg you to pick me when it’s clear that you’ve already made your mind up about me. Please arrange for the car to be collected and sold. I appreciate the offer to keep it, but I wouldn’t feel right about that. Goodbye, Drew.”
Offering him a sad smile, I stand and turn to walk away, pulling my cell out of my pocket.
“Samantha,” Drew calls.
Exhaling, I slowly spin to face him.
“Did you cheat on me?” he asks, showing the first hint of emotion since he stepped into my view.
“No,” I say, simply, shaking my head.
His lips part like he’s going to say something else, but I turn away again, finding Sebastian’s number and hitting dial.
“The jet is waiting for you at the hangar. I have a car waiting for you at the exit of the park.”
“Thank you,” I croak, both hating and loving that he already knows what’s happened.
“That’s what big brothers do,” he says, using the soft tone I’ve only ever heard him use with Starling before.
“I need to talk to my parents,” I start.
“It’s sorted,” he says.
“What? How?”
“Evan has it handled.”
“Evan caused all this in the first place,” I hiss, my sadness evaporating and turning into anger.
“He did what needed to be done,” Sebastian says, like it’s obvious and I should have expected this all along.
“He ruined everything.”
“Did he? You seem angry at Evan but not upset about your engagement ending. It seems to me that if your life was truly ruined, you’d be a lot more than angry.”
“I—”
He cuts me off before I can speak. “I think you freaked out about not being one of us, so you got back together with that guy because he was familiar and you knew exactly what the future looked like with him. But the truth is, you never wanted him or the life he had planned for you both. You just wanted to belong. But Sammy, you’ve belonged since the day Starling brought you home. You’re one of us. You always have been. Now you’re Evan’s.”
“I’m not his,” I protest.
Instead of speaking, the sound of his rumbly, amused laugh vibrates through the phone. “See you at home, Sammy.”
“See you in a few hours,” I say on a resigned sigh.