29. Samara
Chapter twenty-nine
Samara
T hank god this day is over.
I groan, stretching my limbs out as I get comfortable in bed. I’m exhausted. It’s been one of those days that are full of surprises and not the kind I like. I won the case I went to trial for today, though, and finalized Luca’s paperwork too. I’ll just have to mail it to him, and then I can really close that chapter of my life.
Until the wedding, that is.
My phone rattles beside me on the nightstand. “Who the hell is calling me at nearly ten at night?”
I pick it up, expecting to decline the call, but I’m a little awestruck when I see whose name flickers across the screen. “Speak of the devil.” I sigh before swiping the call button to answer.
“Luca, to what do I owe this immense pleasure?” I ask sarcastically.
“The pleasure is all mine,” he drawls.
“You can say that again,” I joke. “It is all yours. ”
He chuckles. “You know what I think?”
I feel a fluttering in my chest at hearing his low voice over the phone, even if he is tormenting me. “In general? About very little,” I quip, doing my best to hide the laughter that almost slips past my lips. That drags a deep-bellied laugh out of him that travels all the way from my ear to my toes.
Goddamn him. Even his laugh is sexy as sin.
“Actually, I think about a whole lot, and I’m really starting to think you might actually like me because something tells me if you didn’t, at least a tiny bit, you wouldn’t be answering my calls at all.”
“Hah,” I scoff. “Not a chance.” That may be a lie, and the realization does strange things to my tummy. “Now, tell me why you called because I know it wasn’t for this charming conversation.”
I hear him clear his throat. “About that…”
“Do I have to remind you it’s after ten at night?” I ask, doing my best to sound put out by his call, but truthfully, I’m not sure I mind.
“I’m sorry, Samara, this is going to be a really weird ask, and obviously, feel free to say no.” He pauses, silence stretching over the line as I wait for the rest. “Cecily called tonight. She asked to see Gia on Thursday, but she said her therapist suggested having a chaperone for the visit, and she also mentioned it shouldn’t be a family member. You’re the only person I could think of who would be sort of middle ground and I wouldn’t have to explain all the sordid details to. I’d pay you for your time, of course,” he tells me, pleading.
My mind skitters to a halt. He wants me to chaperone him on a playdate?
“Um,” I say, stalling while I find my words.
“Please, Samara, it would only be for an hour. I know you aren’t my biggest fan, but I’ll pay you whatever you want. Name your price.”
The fact that he still thinks I can’t stand him tugs at my earlier guilt, just enough for the next words I speak to come out of my mouth. Words I know I’ll live to regret.
“Okay, fine. I’ll do it.”
“Really?” he asks, clear disbelief lacing his words.
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
“Fuck.” He blows out a long breath. “Thank you so much. Let me know when you’re available on Thursday, and I’ll make it work.”
Apprehension takes hold again. “But, Luca, I’m not really middle ground, am I? I was your attorney, not hers. To her, I was never in the middle. Before Thursday, could you please run it by her first?”
“I already asked her if it would be okay before calling. I didn’t want to bother you if she wasn’t going to be comfortable. Cici said that she recognizes you’re on the child’s side, and if you’re willing, she’d be incredibly grateful,” he says. Well, that was thoughtful of him.
“Okay, then. I’m waiting on a timeline for court that day, so I’ll text you.”
“Sounds good. Thank you again, Samara,” he says, sounding every bit as genuine as I’d hope.
“Goodnight, Luca,” I tell him, not waiting for his response before hanging up. The last thing I need on my mind before bed is Luca De Laurentiis wishing me a good night.
As I lie here, unable to sleep again, I do my best to convince myself of a different reality than the one I know but won’t yet admit to myself.
This works fine. I needed to send Luca the finalized papers anyway. I can bring them on Thursday now. At least, that’s what I’ll tell myself.