Samantha shrugged. “Tonight.”
“Tonight? You mean he gave you two days’ notice?”
“Yes, but—”
“Sam! I’m pissed for you! Who does that? Who cancels two days before a three thousand mile road trip? I can’t believe he’s being such a dick—and I also can’t believe you’re going to take it!”
Samantha rolled her eyes. “He’s not a dick, Ren. This internship is a big deal. He’s been working on it for twelve months. If he passes on this now, he’ll never get it again.”
“There are other firms.”
“Not like Connor and Associates.”
“So?”
“He’ll be at the wedding; that’s the important part, right?”
“It’s just… He always does this to you.”
A dull ache began to pound behind Samantha’s eyes, and she pinched her brow trying to ease it. “No he doesn’t.”
“Yes. He does. Remember prom?”
She threw herself back on the mattress, unable to believe Renee was bringing this up again. “Prom was five years ago.”
“You’re right. But Bali was just last year.”
Samantha closed her eyes, because until this moment, Renee had never said anything at all about the long-lost trip. It had been Samantha’s graduating wish all throughout college, her dream for as long as she could remember. But somehow Steven had convinced her it was frivolous. That it was a waste, not only of money, but of precious corporate ladder climbing time. They ended up in some stuffy hotel in Los Angeles, sipping flat, generic “champagne” and rubbing elbows with pretentious people who could “take them places.”
“He always puts his job ahead of you; that’s what I’m saying. It’s just the same shit. Him putting his life above yours.”
“I don’t see it that way.”
“And I thought he was going to propose?”
Samantha stared up at the ceiling, wild cattle taking over her heart again. “That was your theory, not mine.” She rose to her feet, walked toward the window, and pulled in a calming breath. “Honestly, I’m glad I’m driving alone. I could use some time to think.”
Renee paused a moment, silent in a way that told Samantha she was worried. “About what?”
“I don’t know. Life. Career choices.” Sam brushed aside the curtains and pulled the double-paned window firmly shut. “Maybe mom was right.”
“Sam, it was your first gallery, you can’t expect—”
“Expect what? To sell something, after five years of trying?”
“Look, I don’t want to fight you on this, but driving across country to figure out your life is crazy. We’re talking three thousand miles. And my beautiful blond girlfriend who always seems to attract the creepiest of men when out alone.”
Samantha laughed, staring out the window to the street below. “Yeah… Well, I’ll keep the doors locked.” She walked toward the closet and pulled more clothes from the hangers. “Besides—my mind’s made up.”
“Sam…”
“I’ll be fine. Really.”
“Why don’t you drive with Tristan? He’s leaving tomorrow, and I’m sure he could use the company.”
“Ha!”
“What’s so funny?”
“I am NOT driving with your brother.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’d rather eat poop.” It was a gross analogy, but it was mostly true. “I can think of a million other things I’d rather do than be held hostage with Tristan. It’s bad enough you invited him to the wedding.”
Renee laughed. “He’s my brother. Or course he’s going to be there. And he’s not that bad. He’s had a rough year—I think he’s finally growing up.”
“Tristan Montgomery, grow up? I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Good. I’ll have him pick you up tomorrow at ten.”
“No no no, that’s not what I—”
“I have to go.” Renee sing-song yelled into the receiver, “Be ready by ten! I LOVE YOU!”
CLICK.
Samantha looked at her cell, her eyes bulging with shock and terror before redialing the number.
The line went quickly to voice mail. “Hi, this is Renee. You know what to do. BEEEEEP.”
“Shit!” Samantha hung up the phone. An image of Tristan popped into her mind and she closed her eyes. “Like hell!” She moved across the room, pulled her chair from her desk, and sat down upon it. If Renee wasn’t going to answer, she’d be forced to send an email.
Renee,
I’m sure you’re expecting this email. I mean, why wouldn’t you, after dropping that bombshell of a bad idea in my lap? Tristan? Really? REALLY?