Chapter 24 Samantha
SAMANTHA
I rub coconut oil on my body, and I take Harry through my relatively normal upbringing. Finally, he sits up, and I can tell he is distracted. I keep rubbing the oil on my stomach and chest, and I explain my life growing up, finishing with my dear Mom.
Harry sounds interested in her, and as I finish, he looks over. “She must be cool.”
“She is,” I say, missing her.
We exchange a glance, and it’s nice. I like it when he’s more human.
“Now, you go,” I say, getting comfortable.
Slowly, Harry tells me about his own life.
He is private, but that much was obvious. It’s interesting. And interesting to see how he has become who he is. He is articulate, and I guess that makes sense.
Harry explains how he was brought up in a tight family that was ultra-private. He then explains why they were private.
He was schooled on the East Coast, but he grew up at the chateau.
He then studied at Harvard.
From around the age of twenty, he worked in media companies, ad agencies, and entertainment companies in NYC. He was clearly some kind of hotshot, and he pitched clients’ ideas.
Then, once they approved the concepts, he would make ad campaigns for them. He oversaw the shoots and the edits and then delivered them to clients.
He then started working for more media and movie companies and worked between media, movies and advertising. Finally, he was offered shares in some companies, and he invested heavily.
Later, he started his own.
I do not ask about his love life, and oddly, it features little. He swings back to his family life, and then he asks me to agree. To agree to keep things to myself.
I do, again, just like I’d done with William and with the signed NDA agreement.
Harry tells me about a great-grandfather. Someone who had done well farming in the south.
And then his hard-working son, who’d moved north and then invested in various businesses. Most of the businesses failed, and the family was close to living on the street. That was when things changed, and when one business did well.
The entire family then sacrificed all and they worked like crazy people. Finally, they got a breakthrough, and they secured a deal. A deal to place their products in stores, across America.
Like many, that had been the turning point, and they went on to do well.
Better than well. They made a small fortune. That’s a lie. They made a huge fortune with generational wealth.
Harry leaps in time again, and he starts to explain from the age of fifteen, he, his sister, and a distant cousin were forced to work hard on some land in the south.
Just to make sure they respected money, and so they learned to work hard.
Harry said it was brutal, but everything ever since has been relatively easy.
We share a glance; it’s nice he is opening up. Sighing, he stands and walks away. Finally, he stops, looking across the ocean below, deep in thought.
“The thing is, now it’s just me. I’m the last. The point then becomes, what is the fucking point? To any of this? To working hard? To striving? To doing anything? When I die, the family dies!”
I watch him closely. He has not moved an inch since he started to look across the water.
I am likely stepping over the line, but screw it, the cold brute needs help. Standing next to him, I rest an arm on his. It is not flirty, just supportive.
I have a brother, and I have a mother. And somewhere, I think I still have a father. Also cousins, even if some are weird.
Poor Grumpy has no one.
No one in the world.
“You have friends,” I say. “You also have people who love you.”
Finally, Harry nods, but he doesn’t look over. “Thanks, I do.”
We stand like that for a while, and I lean my scruffy hair on his thick arm. The arm that held me in the Mustang and made me feel better.
The Pacific Ocean ahead of us is silent, and we gaze at it, all alone.
I decide to give Harry some more positive energy because he clearly needs it. Now more than ever.
“The good thing is,” I say, “you’re strong. Stronger than most men I know.”
Harry sighs, so I decide to shake him out of it.
“You’re resilient. You are also confident. You are also capable; you are a timeless warrior.” Harry does not move. “It’s just a shame. A shame you have the cock of a boy.”
I run as fast as I can, and he yells loudly from somewhere behind me.
Screaming, I streak away for my life. I know Harry runs daily and I know I need distance.
I also know he is chasing me. I can hear his feet thunder across the lawn.
Running down the perfectly soft grass, I hit the sand, fast and hard. I only have twenty feet to cross before the water and lagoon.
Running in fast, I dive straight under the water. I come up spinning, and I laugh and feel wild. He is seconds behind me, and as he dives in, he grabs me.
We go over, and we wrestle in the water.
We finally come up, laughing and coughing, and we stand cool, cleansed, and laughing loudly.
Catching our breath, we do three-sixties, taking it all in. We are still holding each other, and we are still gasping and laughing.
I like having him play fight with me, and my body likes his hard body against me, too.
I cross an arm over my hard nipples, but it is pointless and kind of weird. Harry drapes a friendly arm over me, and we turn to face each other. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” I say, inhaling.
I try not to place my hands around his neck, where they belong.
I just rest them on his hips, like he does on mine.
“Well, how are we doing?” I ask, wondering if we will kiss.
Harry checks the sun on the horizon and then his ancient Rolex. “Not bad. We’ve actually done really well.”
“I know,” I say, amazed. “And so much for it feeling like a chore. It was just like getting to know each other. Like having three speed dates.”
“True,” Harry says. “There are probably just a few other things we need to discuss.”
“Right,” I say, agreeing.
We head back up the lawn, and I get the sunglasses I tossed while running. As we reach the top lawn and house area, Harry asks, “So, do you want kids?”
“What, now?” I ask loudly.
I quickly realize it was part of the Q and A, and I calm.
I look over at Harry, who is now raising a cheeky brow.
“Hang on a minute,” I say, my eyes squinting. “Is this some elaborate trick to ask me to have kids? And have them this afternoon?”
We both laugh, lying back on the recliners.
“You know, I have a weird feeling kids take nine months or so,” Harry says.
“And it’s best to have them when you’re in love,” I say before realizing I’ve said it.
“There is that,” Harry says huskily.
“And married,” I toss in.
“Likely.”
We exchange a loaded glance, and my heart is fluttering. “Yeah, maybe we should discuss that,” I say with a sigh. “Okay, so when are we getting married?” I ask, only looking at him at the end of the question.
Harry looks uneasy and he rubs his wet neck. “Look, I’m not the best at this kind of thing.”
“Care to share?” I ask.
“No, yes.”
I swivel around and sip my juice.
“Look, this is going to sound…”
“Embarrassing?” I ask. “You can tell me,” I add gently. Harry looks at me, and his eyes sharpen. As if he is calculating if he can really trust me. “No, really,” I say.
“Look, I once told you I’m not that normal.”
“Yeah, but that was when you were fucking me like no one ever had.”
We both freeze.
“Really?” he asks seriously.
“Well, kind of. Let’s just say you’re good, or we were, ummm, good, great, or whatever. Anyway.”
“Anyway,” Harry says, sighing. “Look, I’ve never done this.”
“What? Being fake-engaged, jet-setting, or being in this weird whatever we are, you know, kind of getting caught up in?”
We both share a look, and we laugh.
“Yeah,” he says finally. There is silence. “Look, I’ve never had an actual girlfriend.”
I look over as I finish my drink. I then remember William’s confidential talk. Harry must have caught me observing him because he is suddenly defensive. “It’s not that weird.”
“No, it’s not,” I say, still processing. “Anyway, I can likely coach you on pointers.”
Harry raises a brow. “You want to coach me on being a boyfriend?”
I think it through, and I start to like the idea. No, I start to love the idea.
“It does sound weird, but maybe.” Harry rubs the back of his neck, and he stands and paces. “Look, I promise not to write pages of notes.”
“No, you won’t,” Harry says, walking back over. He is looking down on me again, and his slicked back wet hair and amazing body are in silhouette with the sun behind him. He really is spectacular.
Like a hot Greek God.
I am also semi-naked, wet, and turned on. I want him to lie down on me and slide inside me.
“So just what would the coach advise?” Harry asks, crossing his arms and sounding cautious.
You to fuck me.
I lower my sunglasses and look at him seriously. “Command, dear, I will be commanding you.”
Harry laughs loudly and shakes his head. “I cannot believe how complex this deal is getting.”
I stand with a bowl of salad that arrived as we swam. I start to eat and talk at the same time. “It is a big deal.”
“It is,” Harry says.
As I chew, I hold a fork towards Harry. He shakes his head. “Eat,” I command.
“No,”
“Eat!” I say, sternly. “Couples do this kind of thing.”
Harry turns back to me, and he leans forwards. With his eyes on mine, his lips inches away from mine, and me still topless, he nips the salad and pulls back, chewing.
I smile wide, liking the new game.
I am in heaven.
I am also about to pay off Mom’s place. I am about to teach a wicked hunk to be the perfect beau and to worship me.
Just then, and at the same time, we both realize a flaw in our plan. Turning as one, we both say loud, “Engagement ring!”