18. Stan
Chapter eighteen
Stan
I hear Ruth charge out of the office before settling beside me. She gazes at the lake, spotting my sister Grace.
“You haven’t told them about me, have you?”
Ruth’s voice sounds so small and soft, making my heart ache. I shake my head, wanting to clear up the misunderstanding.
“I have told my mom,” I reply, hoping it does something to ease the pain in my daughter’s eyes.
“Was she disappointed?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. I mean, my mom was so jovial about it so I couldn’t really tell. “But she wasn’t happy that I didn’t tell her earlier.”
“Why didn’t you tell them all about me right away?” Her voice is small, and her face is downturned. When I peek at her, I can’t make much out.
I don’t know what to tell her. She may be a teenager, but she’s way beyond her age in terms of wisdom. So I’m sure she can handle it .
“I’m just… I’m a private person, Ruth,” I begin. “I’m close with my family. I love them all very much, but I don’t want them in my business. Grace always feels left out in our family because she followed music and not film, so we have our rough edges. I grew up with the paparazzi around—having to consider every move I made and how it might look outwardly. I don’t like that feeling. I needed processing time with you, and truth be told, I didn’t want differing opinions or to worry about how bringing you into my life might be perceived. I knew it was the right thing to do, knew it was what I wanted to do. And now they can all just deal with it.”
She peeks up at me from beneath a fringe of dark lashes and long bangs. She has a soft smile on her face.
“So, this is our business, not theirs, okay?” I finish.
She nods and leans into me. I smooth out her hair, and she hugs me even tighter.
“When you’re done with her, I’d like to meet my aunt,” she says.
And with that, Ruth spins on her heel to walk away.
I saunter toward my sister. Grace doesn’t spare me a glance, her gaze remaining intent on the lake’s surface.
“When were you going to tell me you had a kid?” she asks, acknowledging my presence without looking my way.
“When I had gotten my bearings down and sorted the dad part about this whole thing,” I answer.
Now she turns to me, anger flashing across her face. “But you told Mom. And I had to hear it from her.”
“I only told her after I had already gotten everything settled,” I explain. “I don’t need anyone talking me out of it.”
“You know that I wouldn’t have talked you out of it,” she says .
I don’t say anything. I feel bad for insinuating that. Knowing Grace, she would have helped me sort out the paperwork twice as fast.
“And you didn’t tell me,” she repeats. “You told Mom. But she’s the one who told Dad, who eventually told me. It came up like they thought I already knew.” She’s fuming with frustration.
My throat tightens, and guilt lances through me. I got so swept up planning for the movie, working with Sam, and trying to solve all this shit going on in my life.
“I’m sorry, Grace. I should have phoned you and told you. You’re right, that wasn’t fair of me.”
My sister freezes, and I see Ruth pad up silently behind her, shaking her head at me.
“What did you just say?” Grace asks.
My sister holds a palm up to her ear like she didn’t quite hear me.
“That wasn’t fair?” I ask.
A smug smile curves her wide mouth. “No, the other part.”
My teeth grind. I know what she’s after. And I’m not sure I’m able to deny her right now.
“Okay, fine. You’re right.”
Ruth huffs out a light laugh, and Grace spins around to take her niece in for the first time. Silence descends between the three of us as the two of them watch each other closely.
Grace turns back to me with wide eyes and a stunned expression on her face. “Oh, no, Stan. She is all you.” Her head moves back and forth between us. “Like… you as a tween, but make it a girl.”
Ruth and I both roll our eyes.
“Truly unreal,” my sister laughs. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ruth,” she adds, extending her hand. “I’m Grace. Stan’s sister.”
Ruth approaches to take her hand. “Yeah, I kinda figured out who you are because of how loud you were being. ”
“Oh, she’s Stan’s kid, alright,” Grace states with a grin. “What were you two doing?”
“We were checking out his best films, and he was giving me tips on edits,” Ruth explains. “Want to show me what you’ve learned?”
“Sure.” Grace smiles as she follows her niece towards the office.
I follow behind them, but stop to take a look at the guesthouse. Right now, Sam’s in there. With him .
I know we’ve gotten closer, but at the end of the day, she’s still someone else’s woman.
That doesn’t change the fact that my jealousy makes me want to scream.
***
Grace and I decided it was a good idea to hit up Larry’s place for a drink and a game of pool afterwards.
But right now, I’m starting to regret it.
Why?
Because Sam’s there. With him .
George waves over at us with a warm smile to join him and Sam at their booth. “Hey, over here,” he says, even though I want to pretend I can’t see him.
“I mean, we might as well,” Grace says without waiting for my approval.
She leads me to the booth and takes her seat. I follow right next to her, both of us sitting opposite George and… Sam.
Sam stares at me for a second but looks away, focusing on the glass of beer in front of her .
Grace takes the lead and starts talking. About her kids, her friends, bull-riding, hockey, and calving season. Honest to God, no one can get a word in edgewise with her monologuing. Even the server coming by can’t break her flow. I would usually find it annoying, but having to sit across from Sam and George while they’re out together has me stewing like a petulant child.
I hate how the jealousy hurts me so much, and they don’t care.
George, however, is a great conversationalist and asks engaging questions to keep the chatter going. I try not to stare at Sam. And I fail. Her finger slides up and down the exterior of the pint glass. Condensation drips down in the movement’s wake. When I lift my eyes, I realize she’s caught me staring. But it doesn’t stop me. Now she’s doing it, too. We watch each other carefully for a beat. Then two. Her lips part with a sharp gasp.
I blink for a moment, and there’s no one around us.
My hands on her waist, my tongue in her mouth. She gasps for more air while I tug on her hair.
A sharp kick to my shin from under the table startles me. And I find Sam giving me a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing kind of glare.
I turn my gaze away, trying to suppress the thoughts of her I just had.
“So what do you do?” Grace asks George.
He comes up with something regarding tech in oil and gas, finishing with, “It’s nothing serious. Just started. Still grinding. Need to make sure I fulfill as many quota as I can.”
“Quotas, huh?” I clear my throat. “That’s why you’ve not been able to look out for Sam? ”
He and Sam exchange looks, only adding to my irritation. He turns to me, “I guess so.”
“Seems like a promotion is more important than being with your girl,” I egg him on. I’m being childish. I don’t care.
“I don’t think I’d put it that way.” He lets out a nervous laughter. He’s nice. Too nice. Too soft.
“I would.”
“Stan,” Sam warns me with a glare.
“Look, man, some of us aren’t—”
“Able to put the interests of our women first?” I cut him off.
“Stan!” Sam yells again.
“I was going to say some of us aren’t privileged to be the child of an A-list celebrity with connections that make our journey to the top a little easier and a trust fund of millions of dollars waiting for them,” he says, still with that arrogant yet good-natured smile. “So maybe I did put my promotion ahead of my relationship. But the end goal was to give my woman the comfort she deserves.”
The table is silent.
Oh, he’s good, alright.
George nods, picks up the glass of beer in front of him, and takes a swig.
“You’re being an asshole right now, Stan.” Sam is furious. “Outside. Now.” She turns to George. “Move.”
The smile on his face disappears, and he moves aside like a little puppy, letting her through. She makes her way towards the door .
“You’re such an idiot,” Grace mutters in my ear as I get up to follow her.
Ignoring her statement, I give George one last look before following after Sam.
A few purposeful steps, and we’re around the corner of the building, standing in the dark. She’s panting with fury, but I’m breathless for a whole other reason. Her gray eyes seem to reflect the yellow lights around us, giving them an almost supernatural look.
Patio lanterns strung around the property dot the darkness with warm, bright spots. The sweet smell of lilacs permeates the air, emanating from the bush behind us. The mineral tang of the lake water beside us adds a soft undertone.
“You spoiled, arrogant, rich brat!” She’s mad enough to give me a shove.
“You left out handsome,” I quip, and it earns me another shove.
One hand on each shoulder pushes me up against the pub’s pale yellow vinyl siding. She doesn’t stop her forward motion and closes the space instantly.
“Careful, I can get you suspended for assault.” I keep my palms flat against the wall. “I’m still your boss, after all.”
“Does that somehow give you the right to be an asshole?” She cocks her head to the side and barks out a laugh. “You went way too far. He’s had a rough day, and you want to whip out your dick to show him yours is bigger for some reason? You entitled prick.”
“That’s Sir Entitled Prick to you. And I don’t care about his day, or the fact that he has a smaller phallus than mine. All I worry about is you. ”
My statement throws her off a bit, but she shakes her head and continues. “You go back in there and apologize.”
“Make me.” I tower over her, and she takes a step back in fear.
I don’t want to scare her, so I soften my approach. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Huh?”
“He doesn’t deserve you,” I repeat. “You deserve better.”
She’s flustered and angry at the same time. “And what’s that supposed to mean? You’re the better option?” she scoffs.
“Who else better than me? Even if there was, you think I’d let him stop me?”
I don’t think, I just reach for her. One hand on her jaw, the other gripping her waist. Holding her like I could shake her in frustration—except I never would. Instead, I flip us around, turning her quickly so she’s the one pressed up against the wall. Her heavy breaths puff against my skin. Her eyes flash down to the silver chain around my neck, but she makes no other move to escape me.
“Try all you want,” she dares. “If I say someone is better than you, try all you want, and I’ll have you arrested for assault and harassment if you do anything stupid.”
Her words are a taunt, her eyes are defiant. I know her boyfriend is inside, and it just makes me want her more. My eyes race over her face. Flushed cheeks. Twinkling eyes. The tip of her tongue on that full bottom lip.
“You will be quiet, Samantha.”
She pauses at the use of her full name. Then she straightens slightly before spitting, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
And I just shake my head at her, tightening my grip and shifting my hand over so I can brush a thumb over her damp lips. “Shut up, because I’m going to kiss you right now unless you tell me not to.”
She stares at me for a moment. “I hate you so much,” she whispers. It’s a lie.
Our gazes latch onto one another before she closes her eyes and lifts her chin.