Chandler
CHANDLER
T his is the first time I’ve dreaded going to work since I started. Sam hasn't answered any of my calls or messages all weekend, and every day, I have less hope that she’ll forgive me. I should have called her when my grandfather told me he was giving me the house. I should’ve told her that day instead of waiting. Especially before Ken. How was I supposed to know he was going to announce it at the party? I just really fucking hope she’ll let me explain today. Which is exactly why I made sure to arrive at work just after 8 o'clock. It’s a lot later than usual for me, but at least Sam should be at work by the time I get there. I check my phone at a stop sign, not new messages. I know she’s received the dozens of texts I sent. I sigh and set my phone down, continuing the drive to work. I drive into the parking lot and head toward my parking spot. I’ve just reached it, but I have to hastily hit the brake because Sam’s car is double parked, taking up both of our spaces. I deserve that. I find a parking spot not too far from the building. Seems like a lot of people are off today, probably still nursing hangovers from the weekend. I walk into the building. The new receptionist, Jane, smiles when I walk in but doesn’t say anything. My heart hammers in my chest as I get closer to my and Sam's office. She’s not in here. My shoulders slump, and I set my work stuff down, logging in for the day and glancing at Sam's empty desk. Her purse is there. Maybe she just stepped out for a few minutes. I check any emails that may have come through. Ken sent one thanking me for my time with the company and wishing me luck in North Carolina. I close the e-mail and groan, looking up at the ceiling, feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet. I hear a knock on the office door. My first guess is it's Ken. Sam wouldn’t knock, but when I glance towards the door, a woman with red hair, dressed in office attire, is standing at the door. She looks familiar, but I don’t know how. I wonder if she’s my replacement. She speaks in the room, at Sam's desk, and furrows her brows. Her eyes widen when she looks at me, and then she smiles.
“Oh, hi!” She laughs awkwardly. "I’m Penny," she says. “I’m looking for Samantha Jensen?”
Who is this girl? She looks so familiar. “How can I help you?”
“Do you know where Sam is?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her yet, but she should be back soon.”
“Oh, okay.”
“Why are you looking for Sam?”
“I’m just a friend.”
“Oh," I say.
“Yeah.” She pauses, staring at me, and tilts her head. “You’re , right?”
“I am,” I say, with a nod.
“I’ve heard a lot about you from Sam.”
“Good things, I hope," I say and smile .
She looks at me deadpan and shakes her head. “Not really.”
Ouch. Well, this is going really well. After a few more minutes, she sighs and takes something out of her purse. “I’ve got to run. When she gets back, will you give these to her, please?”
She hands me a stack of business cards.
“Sure," I say. “What are they for?”
“You should ask Sam about that.”
She leaves, and I look at the business cards in my hand. It has Sam's name and “SJ interiors and renovations” with a website and phone number. Sams, phone number. I’ll be sure to ask her about it. Hopefully, she won’t continue to give me the cold shoulder.
It’s already noon, and I still haven’t seen Sam all day. Maybe she’s a meeting, one I wouldn’t be part of because, as of tomorrow, I won’t be working here. I head out for lunch and pick up a sandwich from the deli, including Sam’s favorite turkey sandwich. Maybe a peace offering will get her to hear me out. When I return to the office, Sam is at her desk, but she doesn’t even look at me.
“Hey,” I say and she ignores me. “I haven’t seen you all day.”
Still nothing.
“I got you a sandwich.’
She still doesn’t look up when she says, "I’ve already eaten.”
“Listen, Sam," I start, setting the sandwich I got for her on her desk. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I really am. I was planning on telling you, but then Ken announced it at the party. I just….”
She finally looks at me, that familiar fire in her eyes.
Fuck me. She looks pissed, and instead of feeling satisfied like I used to, I feel guilty. I have the urge to grab her face and kiss her, anything to convince her that I still want this. But I don’t. I’m sure she’d knee me right in the balls if I did.
“And when exactly were you planning on telling me? After the party? After I’d already let you get into my pants? After I’d opened up to you about my mom and about how I felt about you? You led me on .”
“Come on, Sam, that’s not-" I can’t finish because she interrupts me again.
“Save it, . You can go back to North Carolina like you always planned to do. You go what you wanted. I’m leaving for the day. Have a nice life.” She grabs her things and storms out of the office. My chest tightens with a pang as I watch her go.
Fuck. I want to fix this. I need to fix this. She seems pretty fucking sure I’m the biggest asshole to walk the earth. I sigh. I’ll have to figure something out.