4. Samantha
Chapter four
Samantha
As I drive to Rose Haven, I can’t shake the humiliation that clings to me like a blanket. Just two weeks ago, I finished a presentation good enough to impress the CEO and the founder.
I should be at work, riding the high of success. Instead, I’m making the drive to my hometown, Rose Haven, with my tail between my legs. Despite trying to not relive the memory, my mind keeps drifting to the moment that put me on this new path.
I hold my heart in my chest as I stand in front of the head of HR’s office. He’s waiting for me, and I’m not sure I’m ready for the inevitable. With a shaky breath, I step into the office and find Maxwell seated behind his desk.
The office is drenched with sunlight, but the room gets heavy as soon he saw me. You’d think he’s about to announce the death of my family member. But I know what he’s about to tell me. Something that’s going to send me reeling.
“Take a seat, Samantha.” He motions for the chair opposite him.
“Okay, sir.” I hope being polite might somehow soften the blow of the bombshell he’s about to drop.
Maxwell rubs his hands together nervously, then looks at me. The older man clearly hates himself for what he was about to say. “The boss… Henry,” he starts to say, and I feel my heart drop even more. “He called me and told me you attempted to hit him.”
“I didn’t,” I say in a desperate attempt to evoke some sort of sympathy from him.
“I know, Miss Knight, I know,” he says, his face twisting with anguish. “But he’s the boss and I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t hit him!” I’m trying not to cry. “He touched me. Harassed me. I wanted to hit him, but I stopped. He touched my thighs without my permission. I was only…”
I stop talking as I notice Maxwell isn’t looking at me anymore. His gaze is fixed on his desk.
“I’m sorry, Miss Knight,” he says again.
He knows what really happened. He’s heard about this behavior from Henry repeatedly. And each time, he dishes out the same verdict. It weighs on his conscience, but he sees no other way.
“I’m fired?”
“I’ll make sure we’ll double your last paycheck,” he answers. “I’ll also put in a good word for any future place you choose to work.” He stands up, walks to my side, and bows his head. “I’m sorry scum like him made this work experience a terrible and unfair one for you, Samantha.”
“Thank you,” I say, resigned to my fate. “I’ll clean my desk.”
And here we are. I have sixteen thousand dollars in my bank account, and I’m still looking for a job. My boyfriend feels more like a roommate, and to top it all off, I’m drowning in self-pity.
I have nowhere to go. My parents are vacationing in another country and will be returning to Rose Haven soon. They won’t chase me away, but I don’t want them feeling sorry for me if I stay with them. The logical choice—the only choice, really—is Lucas’s place. The home of my cousin and surrogate brother.
As I drive up Lucas’s steep gravel driveway, the same one I made mud pies in during visits to see my nephew, Alex, I can’t help feeling nervous. I spot the garage. It’s bigger than I remember. There’s the guesthouse, too, also looking like it was spruced up. If I remember correctly, Lucas rented it out to a celebrity… and ended up marrying the celebrity. Selena Bishop.
I don’t know how the meathead pulled it off, but he did. Now it makes me feel even weirder about asking him for a place to stay. As I park, I find myself hoping his wife is kind and won’t chase me away.
“Only one way to find out,” I mutter. I push the car door open and make my way to his front door.
With a deep breath, I raise my hand to knock. But before my knuckle touches the door, I’m met with someone I didn’t expect to see.
Stan Holt.
He’s taller than I remember, and I have to tilt my head back to meet his raven eyes. We were basically the same height as teens, but he towers over me now.
“Well, well, well.” He tips an imaginary hat and, with the smoothest Texas drawl, says, “Look what the tumbleweed dragged in.”
I don’t respond. My stomach drops to my feet with the most unsettling lurching sensation. He stares at me, and the weight of his gaze has my heart thundering against my ribs. His dark brows furrow, and I can’t help but notice his hair, which used to be more auburn, has darkened in adulthood. It’s dark brown now, the russet undertone only shining when the light hits it just right. Neatly trimmed stubble frames his high cheekbones. The tan skin on his throat flexes as his Adam’s apple bobs above the V of his tee.
God. It’s been at least a decade since I last saw him .
I’m yet to laugh at the joke, so he drops his hand from the imaginary hat and chuckles awkwardly. “That was the best joke I had at the moment.”
“If that was the best joke, I’m tempted to ask what the worst one is,” I say, finally finding my voice.
“A man walks into a bar, then says ‘ouch,’” he quips, his voice faltering towards the end.
I try to keep a straight face, but I can’t. The joke is so bad that I can’t help but laugh. He joins me.
“Stan,” I say again, my cheeks hurting from all the laughing.
He embraces me. “It’s been a decade and a half, Sammie.”
“You got bigger,” I remark.
“You stopped growing,” he retorts, and I pinch his sides. “Fuck, ow!”
“Glad to see that your potty mouth has yet to leave you.”
“It’s one of the few things you love about me,” he says as he breaks the hug.
We stare at each other, and he reaches for my face. His palm against my cheek feels so big and warm, and I can’t resist nuzzling my face against it, closing my eyes. I feel like I’m nestled in the comfiest bed made by the gods themselves. I feel his thumb brush against my lower lip, and I open my eyes. The teenage boy I used to hang out with my cousin is now a man.
His face turns into a frown. “What happened?”
“Huh? ”
“There’s something wrong. So, what happened?”
Just like that, he looks ready to kill. It strikes me that this is the face I wanted George to have when I told him about Henry. Why did it have to be Stan who’d be perceptive enough to sense that something was off?
This is bad.
Stan’s always been the aloof and jokey type, but whenever someone he cared about was in trouble, he’d be ready to spill blood. Lucas would complain about how hard it was to hide things from Stan. Like the time a guy made fun of me and made me cry. Stan found out, pummeled him, and the guy never spoke to me again.
As much as I’m tempted to tell him what happened, I’m too afraid I’ll break down.
“I…” I stammer.
“Aunty Sam!” Alex shouts, coming to rescue me.
The boy, who’s gotten a lot bigger than I remember, shoves past Stan and tackles me to the floor. His bursts of laughter bring instant relief. Stan watches us, sticking his hands in his pockets. His gaze doesn’t leave me, though.
“What are you doing here?” Alex asks as we get back to our feet.
“I second that question. What are you doing here, Samantha?” Lucas approaches us, a warm smile on his face.
“Hey, big brother.” I grin. “Just thought I’d drop in.”
“Your little sister?” an angelic voice asks from within the house. The owner appears with a baby in her arms. It’s Selena Bishop, the princess of Hollywood.
“Oh my goodness, she’s pretty,” Selena squeals as she hands the baby to Lucas and then holds my hand. “My name’s Selena. It’s an honor to meet you. I was worried the only person in his family I could reason with was his mom. I’m so glad you’re here, Samantha.”
“What on earth have you done to this woman?” I ask Lucas. Selena seems so different from what I saw in interviews and movies. My lunkhead cousin must be somehow responsible.
“I only gave her the best Lucas Hill experience,” he says as if that answers everything.
“Nice to finally meet you. As Lucas probably told you, we’re cousins, not actual siblings,” I explain to Selena. “Sorry I missed your wedding.”
“It’s fine. You’re here now,” she says with a warm smile that makes me feel guilty. “I have to go feed the baby, but please stay for dinner.”
“I will.”
She nods and takes the baby back from Lucas. “Alex, let’s go,” she says.
Alex follows her in. Stan’s still here, standing guard, or whatever it is.
“What are you still doing here? I’m not kidnapping your boyfriend,” I tease.
“Just had to make sure,” Stan replies with a shrug. “I’m going back home now.”
“Did you hear he’s a multimillionaire now?” Lucas says to me. “I’ve been having talks with him to get me a sports car.”
“Your wife can get it for you,” Stan says as he walks outside toward what looks like a very expensive Audi. I stare at him as he does. My eyes lower to his ass, and I swallow hard .
Lucas gently pinches my cheek. “Stare too hard, and you’ll burn a hole in his pants.”
“I’m not,” I protest. “I was just checking out his wheels.”
“Sure you were.” He rolls his eyes. “How have you been? How’s work? And your boyfriend?”
I can’t bring myself to answer. My shoulders tighten, and I swallow before turning my eyes back up to my cousin’s, the same shade of gray as my own. I shake my slowly.
Lucas nods. For all his jock tendencies, my cousin is sensitive and can read people incredibly well. This is about the entire conversation we’ll have about why I’m here.
“There’s a spare room,” Lucas says.
“Is the guesthouse… occupied?”
“No, you can have it.” He smiles and turns.
I follow him, feeling relieved for the first time in weeks.