I chose door number three and when I did, Sam’s arm curled tighter and the pads of his fingers dug in at my hipbone.
My knees went weak.
Luci spoke.
“Why don’t you have a glass?” she asked Sam.
“Because I’m driving,” Sam answered.
She waved a hand in front of her face even as she took a sip of champagne then she dropped her glass and stated, “Drink, enjoy, I’ve plenty of bedrooms. You get tipsy; you and Kia can spend the night in one.”
Unfortunately, at this announcement, I too was sipping champagne therefore, hearing her words, I choked on it.
Sam chuckled.
I tipped my head slightly to the side on a turn, giving him a look out of the corner of my eye.
Sam chuckled deeper and longer.
Whatever.
I looked to Luci and declared, “This Cinderella has a curfew.”
Mistake.
Luci’s brows snapped together with adorable confusion but I didn’t take much of that in before Sam’s arm around me curled, taking me with it, so instead of my side leaning into his long, hard one, my front was pressed to it.
My head tipped back to see his was tipped down and he asked, “What?”
“I have a pre-booked boat tour that takes off at seven. I have to be in bed early so I can be rested and enjoy my tour.”
This, actually, was true.
“How early?” Sam asked.
“Ten o’clock,” I tried even though I probably could push it to eleven.
This time, Sam’s brows drew together and it wasn’t confused or adorable. It was scary.
“Baby, it’s quarter to nine now and we just got here.”
“Sorry, I’m seeing maybe I should have told you this before,” I muttered.
“Don’t worry,” Luci butted in. “Drink, eat, enjoy and miss your tour. Stay the night. I’ll let you borrow some clothes tomorrow so you can sleep in. While you have breakfast with me, Sam can pop back to the hotel to get something to wear then you two can use my boat and he can take you on a personal tour tomorrow.”
Uh-oh.
There were so many things wrong with this suggestion I didn’t know where to start. First, she was at least two inches taller but still twenty pounds lighter than me so she had to be two sizes smaller than me. Second, I was not spending the night in her house with Sam under the same roof, in the same bed I was in (definitely!) or not. I could do a hotel. I could not do a home. Don’t ask me why, that was just the way it was. Third, that was my only night with Sam. No way was I spending a day in a boat on a beautiful lake in romantic Italy alone with him.
No way.
“I –” I started.
“Works for me,” Sam said over me. “My shit is done, got all day.”
I looked back up at Sam and opened my mouth to say something when Luci again butted in.
“Perfect. I’ll have Giuseppa pack you a lunch. Something gorgeous.” She aimed a brilliant, perfect teeth against kickass cranberry-colored lipstick lips and flawless, olive skin smile at me and declared, “Done!”
Uh-oh!
“I –” I started again but that time it was kind of me who interrupted me.
Or, at least it was my cell phone ringing in my bag.
“Excuse me,” I muttered, pushing back a bit from Sam (or, as far as he’d let me go, which, frankly, wasn’t very far), juggling my drink while opening the clasp on my bag (or I did for the nanosecond it took Sam to slide the drink out of my fingers like the gentleman he was), pulling out my phone, shoving my bag under my arm, looking at the display and seeing it said, “Paula.”
“Sorry,” I looked between Sam and Luci. “I have to take this.”
“So take it,” Sam invited but, I will note, he didn’t let me go.
The phone kept ringing. I waited for him to let me go or Luci to wander away. He didn’t and she didn’t.
Damn.
I flipped it open and greeted, “Hey, girl.”
“There’s a bidding war on your house!” she shrieked so loudly, I had to jerk the phone away from my ear and I knew, because I heard it, that Sam and Luci heard it and, probably, anyone in a ten foot radius.
I put the phone back to my ear and began, “Paula –”
That was as far as I got before more screeching that forced me to take the phone away from my ear which meant, again, Sam and Luciana could hear everything.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod, OHMIGOD, it’s been months and no nibbles, NOW THIS! My commission is gonna be KILLER AND I just heard word there’s a unit that’s opened up at The Dorchester! EXACTLY WHERE YOU WANTED TO MOVE!”
When she shut up, quickly I put my phone to my ear and told her, “Paula, honey, I’m at a party and everything you scream, everyone can hear.”
Silence then, a whole lot quieter, “Oh shit, sorry.” Pause then, “You’re at a party?”
“Yeah,” I replied and said no more.
Paula, being Paula, didn’t let it go at that. “You’re on vacation, how are you at a party?”
“Uh… I’ll explain later,” I evaded.
“Okay but, cool. Parties are fun,” she informed me.
This one, we would see.
“This is good news though,” I said softly, bringing the discussion back in hand and it was good news.
Unloading the house I hated and restarting my life at The Dorchester, which was an absolutely awesome condo complex, was seriously good news and, even better, it was very rare a unit opened up for sale.
So this wasn’t good news, it was awesome.
“Totally, babe,” Paula told me. “This is huge. I love it. Now, I know you’re vacationing with the rich and famous…” Jeez, she had no idea and when she learned, I’d have to put cotton in my ears she was going to scream so loud. “But I gotta move on this. I’ll see if they have digital shots or a web listing set up, if not, I’ll get in the unit and take some, e-mail them to you. Can you go somewhere, get on a computer and pick up your webmail?”
“Probably,” I answered.
“Good. I’m gonna do that today. And tell the two couples I have on the hook that they gotta get their shit sorted by end of business. Get that nailed down, get your deposit. If you give the go ahead on the photos, I’ll move on The Dorchester. Do we have a plan?”
I couldn’t believe this. This was amazing. This meant I got to go home, have my yard sale and get on with my life. My life. My life with Memphis that had no nuance of Cooter in it except, of course, the existence of Memphis but that wasn’t her fault.