Samantha
Six weeks later
"I don't know, Becks," Samantha says as she tosses the neon tennis ball in the air, hitting it with her racket to start the first serve. "I think I fucked up bad."
It's a hot summer day on the country club tennis court today. Samantha comes here every morning to swim laps in the pool, hating any other form of cardio like the treadmill or stair climber. And every Sunday, she has a tennis date with her best friend since childhood, Rebecca Stanley. Neither of them is that good at it but it gives them an excuse to take advantage of the open bar and brunch buffet.
"Okay, so you kissed the guy," Rebecca grunts as she hits the ball back in Samantha's direction. "You were drunk, right?"
"I'm always drunk."
"You know what I mean."
Samantha keeps an eye on the ball when it comes back to her side, hitting it hard enough that it's an instant point in her favor. She sighs and approaches the net to get closer to her friend, lowering her voice. "It's not just a guy, Rebecca. It's our marriage counselor."
Rebecca approaches the other side of the net, running a hand through her black hair. "How many appointments has Cody gone to again?"
"That's not the point."
"But it is not a point. I'd say this guy is more like your therapist than anything," Rebecca says. "So it's only mildly inappropriate. And like I said, you were drunk. I've done a lot worse than that sober."
"Yeah, I was drunk but... I remember doing it. And worse, I remember wanting to do it."
The friend purses her cherry lips. "Hear me out. Maybe this counselor guy isn't half bad. I mean, how many times has Cody cheated on you? I'm not even sure I can count that high. How many times have you cheated on him? Zero. Now it's your turn to catch up."
Samantha rolls her eyes.
"Okay so it's not the most conventional approach to marriage," Rebecca shrugs. "Maybe this means you guys... open the relationship. Why not? He still gets to stick his dick in everything that moves. Except he doesn't have to worry about covering it up with some Bull shit excuse. You and Dr.Dreamy pants test things out. Maybe you get to see what it's like to date a nice guy. Or maybe he just gives you some much needed orgasms. Meanwhile, you and Cody stay married. His daddy makes him head of the company and you get to stay living like Jeff Bezos wife. Everyone's happy."
"Oh yeah, of course. I can't believe I didn't think about that before. Why don't I just get right on that? I'll call Cody and ask if we can just open up the marriage." Samantha says sarcastically. "Hello?! Have you met my husband? He's the most jealous person I've ever met."
"Yeah, and do you remember when I tried to warn you about his jealousy streak? That giant, in-your-face, red flag. I remember him freaking out at you over going to Scott McCauley's house to work on that stupid science project together."
"Yeah. I know," Samantha grumbles, going to retrieve another ball for them. She hates thinking about high school for a lot of reasons. At the beginning of their relationship, Cody's jealousy used to give her butterflies. It made her feel empowered and wanted. For the first time in her life, someone was afraid to lose her. Now that she's older and not quite as naive, she knows that's not what it was. Yes, there's such a thing as a healthy amount of jealousy. Sometimes it can reaffirm to your partner that you care, give them an ego boost. She craves possessiveness without the insecurity. She wants to belong to someone.
"Look. I know it's like... some unspoken rule that we don't talk about this but... why can't you just leave?" Her friend rarely gets serious like this but she asks this honestly, concern filling her eyes. "You know you wouldn't be on the streets, right? You'd have me, and Paul. We could move you right in. I hope that goes without saying."
Samantha gingerly smiles. "No, I know that."
"So what is it?"
"It's... a lot of things," Samantha drops the ball to the ground with a sigh. "I wouldn't even know where to start."
Rebecca starts to gather their bags and makes her way over to Sam's side of the net. She places her hand on her friends back to guide her away from the tennis court. They decide to take a seat at a table on the patio. She searches her friends face with confusion. "I don't understand. I mean, I get some of it. But, I just hate seeing you so unhappy. What? Does he have some black mail on you or something? If it's nudes, don't let him hang that over your head. Everyone takes nudes-"
"No, it's not nudes," Sam can't help but laugh. Even in her darkest of times, her friend never fails to make her laugh or see some silver lining. "It's so many things, you know? Big and small. I mean, I'd have to get a job. And I'm totally fine with that. But I've got no prior experience, no references, no skills, and no college education." Her parents were adamant she not get a job while in school. They wanted her to focus on her studies. What do you need money for, her mom would ask. And then Cody came along and money was never an issue again. "Who's going to hire me?"
Rebecca hesitates. "I'm sure there'd be some kind of settlement. It's the Chambers family, for god's sake. I've seen Stephen write checks for college tuition just because he liked the way the caddy kept up with him for the day. And he adores you. If Cody refused to take care of you, Stephen would. I know it."
"Oh yeah, I'm sure Claire would let that happen. She already hates me enough. I can't imagine what she'd do or say if I'm the one to file for divorce," Sam frowns. Now that she's on the subject, all her worries seem to be screaming out at her. "I don't even think I have a credit score, Rebecca. Everything's in his name. It always has been. The house. The cars. The bank accounts. The credit cards. What if I have to get a loan or rent an apartment? What do they do if they can't pull up a score for me?"
"Take a deep breath." Rebecca says, lifting her hand to gesture to a staff member for drinks. They're going to need them at the rate this is going. "I really think you're just going worst case scenario right now. Okay?"
"He told me once he would sue me," Sam admits, starting to bite on her fingernails. She's been trying to break the habit. Ever since she started seeing Henry once a week, she's gotten better about it. But right now she can't help it. "Yeah. Cody was in Miami on that cruise, remember? He just kept calling and calling. I don't know why I even picked up. I knew he was drunk. He was saying all kinds of things but honestly, that's the only thing I took seriously. He said if I ever leave he would sue me."
Rebecca scoffs. "Are you kidding me? Sue you for what? That doesn't make any sense."
"I don't know. It's America. You can sue anyone for anything, right? There's all kinds of reasons. Alimony. Child support. Someone cheats. Emotional distress. He can sue me for using his money during the marriage. I didn't believe that until I looked it up. It's been done before."
"Alright well you'll counter sue for cheating then! You'll definitely be like Bezos' wife. She's become, like, one of the richest people in the world. All she had to do was put up with the guy for a few years and catch him cheating."
"Yeah, well, with my luck, something would go wrong. He'd hire the best lawyers in New York." Samantha drops her arms on top of the table, covering her face with her hands. She's spiraling now. Her heart's beating so fast she feels like she's going to have a panic attack.
"Okay, okay, okay," Rebecca says, sensing the looming panic and wanting to stop it in its track. "We'll get it figured out. Let's change the subject. I want to talk about Dr. Dreamy pants."
"What about him?" Sam mumbles, trying to steady his breathing.
"Did he say anything about the kiss?"
Samanatha thinks back to the morning after Stephen's birthday dinner. She woke up in a bed that wasn't hers in a room she didn't recognize. Still wearing her dress from the party, her hair was a catastrophe and there was drool dried to the side of her mouth. Her head was pounding. It was a familiar ache. She'd been hung over countless times before. By now, she'd learned immediate remedies that worked for her. Lots of water, a hydration IV, some greasy fast food, and a beer. Hey, it worked every time for her so far. On the night stand, a note had been left:
Samantha, I refuse to leave you at a random hotel for the night. Instead, I hope you enjoyed your stay at hotel Henry. There's breakfast on the table for you- I hope you like your eggs scrambled. I'm sorry I won't be able to take you home myself but my driver has been instructed to pick you up when you're ready. Just call the number below and he'll be there. Please text me when you're home. I'll see you Tuesday at 5.
P.S: the dog's name is Red.
After reading the note, she had picked up her purse and shoes and headed out the room. She was greeted by a golden retriever with a wagging tail and excited whimpers. You must be Red, Samantha had smiled at the pup, spending longer than she expected petting the thing. His house was huge, made up of a lot of glass windows- similar to the layout of his office. Most importantly, everything looked clean and in its place. Breakfast sat on the kitchen table; scrambled eggs, buttered toast, some sausage and bacon, hash browns with veggies, and sliced apple.
She didn't see Henry for the next few days until she arrived at their session the following Tuesday. It was all she could think about. She made sure to put an effort into her appearance; sundresses from here on out. She was nervous and excited all at the same time. When she showed up, something was different about his demeanor. He looked at her only when he had to and when it was time to schedule another appointment, rather than sit next to her, he put more space between them as he took a spot behind his desk. The session didn't linger even a second over before Monica had knocked at his office door to retrieve her. This didn't give her any chance to mention or bring up the kiss. She didn't dare try to bring it up in their session either. Any time she even tried to speak with him the way they did the first session or the night of the party, he would quickly stir her back to the topic at hand. And that's how their sessions have been for the following six, causing her to overthink her thinking. Maybe it was all in her head. Or maybe she crossed a line with the kiss.
"Actually, we haven't really had a chance to talk about it." She reveals in the present moment. A staff member of the club stops by just in time with some mimosas. She gulps both of their drinks down, offering an apologetic smile to her friend. "It's been torture."
"What did you say he looked like again?"
"Oh god, Becks, if you could see him," Samantha sighs dreamily, staring off in the distance. "Tall. Wavy blonde hair. Sometimes his eyes are green, sometimes they're blue. Oh and he's got this scruff that I just want to touch. Although I've never really been into facial hair before. His body..." She shakes her head, quickly crushing her thighs together under the table. It's this new habit she's taken on in the recent weeks. It happens whenever she thinks about him like that, which is a lot. The pressure of squeezing them together relieves something in her until she can quickly cool off or distract herself again. "Every time I see him, he gets more attractive."
"Okay, well, don't freak out but I'm pretty sure he's standing at the bar with Stephen." Rebecca points.
Samantha's eyes widen as she snaps her head in the direction of the outside bar. Her eyes locate him almost immediately. He's leaning against the bar nodding his head at something Stephen is saying. Dressed in a black polo shirt, it hugs his upper body. He's all muscle under the thin fabric. She can count the abs from here. His pants are gray and instead of the usual Oxford shoes, she sees in their place instead a pair of nikes. It looks like he hasn't shaved for a while. There's more stubble on his chin and jaw. He keeps rubbing it every now and then. She's noticed he does that when he's trying to process something or when he's nervous. She can't see his eyes though because he's sporting a pair of sunglasses. It seems like when he's on his own time, he opts for contacts. During her sessions, he's always wearing his glasses- which make it harder to read his face.
"Damn. You didn't say he was that gorgeous." Rebecca smirks.
Sam quickly turns in her seat, hoping he won't be able to recognize her from her back. "Oh my god, we have to go. Now."
"We're not going anywhere. You drank my mimosa. And there may be a show here in a minute because I think they're coming this way..."
No, no. This can't be happening. Why is he here? Why now? And why does he have to look so good?
"Stephen, hi!" Rebecca waves as the two men approach their table. She's got her country club voice on for show. "What a surprise to see you here on this fine Sunday."
Stephen smiles and kisses Rebecca's hand. "I was just about to say the same to the two of you." He looks to his daughter in law. "Sammy girl, it's good to see you."
Samantha lifts her gaze, nodding quickly to her father in law. She forces out a nervous laugh. Henry is standing right above her. If she turned her face full to the right, she'd be staring at his crotch. Don't think about his crotch right now!! She tries not to look at him though, her face is on fire.
"Rebecca, this is my friend, Dr. Henry Good. Henry, you know Samantha. This is her friend, Rebecca." Stephen introduces.
Rebecca gives her best smile to Henry and shakes his hand. "Henry, so lovely to meet you."
Samantha refuses to look up at him so she can't tell the expression on his face but he shakes Rebecca's hand and his voice sounds warm when he speaks. "Likewise."
"So what are you girls up to?" Stephen asks.
"It's funny that you ask, Stephen, because Sam and I were just trying to figure that out for ourselves. Where are you boys headed?"
Sam tries to give Rebecca a look. Shut up, she wants to tell her friend. But Rebecca ignores her completely as she bats her eyes up at Stephen. Oh no. She's got that look. The look that means her friend has something up her sleeve.
"We're about to head over to the golf course. Would you like to join us?" He looks at his friend. "You don't mind, do you, Henry?"
"Not at all."
Samantha tries to kick at her friend under the table to stop this nonsense. She can tell it hurts but Rebecca covers up her pain by rushing to her feet with a clap of her hands. "Ah- Yay! I've never golfed here before." She goes to link her arm through Stephen's and the two begin to make their way to the golf course.
This leaves Henry and Samantha several paces behind them. I'm going to kick Beck's ass, Sam promises herself.
"If I can offer a piece of advice," Henry begins, running a hand through his hair. "Let Stephen win. If you don't, we'll be here all day."
***
For the next few hours, the four of them- five if you count Stephen's caddy, make the rounds on the golf course. The girls keep up with the men fairly easily, despite not knowing anything about the sport except that the ball needs to go in the hole with as few attempts as possible. Rebecca is in first place as she completely disregards the advice Sam shared from Henry. He's a grown man, Beck retorts. Stephen's frustration is evident as he holds onto second place for dear life, Sam is third, and Henry is last. This prompts Stephen to joke that he never thought he'd see the day two women beat them.
It's during this time that Rebecca is the ultimate wing woman. She keeps Stephen entertained, pretending to care about the stock market and the family business, riding with him in his golf cart and the caddy on the back. This leaves Samantha and Henry to have their own cart.
Weeks ago, she would've loved to have this alone time in the real world with him. But ever since that stupid kiss, she feels awkward around him. She doesn't know what to say or do, and she definitely doesn't want to cross any more lines with him.
"Sorry about Rebecca. I told her to let him win but you know... she's really passionate about feminism." Sam says as they follow behind Stephen's cart.
His eyes are shielded by his sunglasses but she can see his lips twitch at the corners. "I actually find it quite entertaining. He could use a hit to the ego every now and again."
"Anyways, I like your friend." He adds.
"Thanks. I think I'll keep her."
"She seems to have a good influence on you," He says. "Although I don't know if I agree with her solution to an open marriage."
This mention causes Sam's heart to stop and her breath hitches in her throat. How does he know about that? She tries to search her memory of their sessions to see if she's ever mentioned that. But today's the first time Rebecca, or anyone else for that matter, suggested an open marriage. Which means... Her eyes widen. Oh no. "Y-Y-You heard-?"
"In my defense, I didn't know it was you two on the tennis court." His voice is light. There's a slight undertone of amusement to it. "So I apologize. I promise I wasn't eavesdropping. I just really like brunch food and I hate sitting next to loud chewers."
"I-I don't know what to say..."
"You don't have to say anything," He says as the cart comes to a stop. He shuts it off and turns in his seat towards her, lowering his sunglasses for a brief moment to look at her. "We can talk about it tomorrow if we need to."
She's thankful for this opportunity to see his eyes for the first time today, and even more, the fact that he's looking at her like this. Today, they're a dark blue shade. It's the way he looks right now. The sun eliminates his golden waves and he just looks so god-like. She can't help but think about his lips again. What does he taste like, she finds herself wondering.
Stop it, stop it, stop it. She squeezes her thighs together, tugging at the bottom of her tennis skirt. She only now realizes how short it is and vows never to wear it to this club again.
His eyes narrow to her lap and she feels her cheeks darken as he spends a little too long looking over her thighs and the fabric of her skirt. Finally, he lifts his eyes to hers again and licks his lips. "You know, I usually let Stephen win but I promise I'm not always this bad."
She smiles. "I won't judge."
"There's that smile." He says softly, reaching with one hand to gently tug on one of the two loose pigtails holding her hair up. "By the way, I find the pigtails adorable."
The compliment makes her heart skip. She instinctively reaches to touch the other one, completely spacing on how she styled her hair today. "You think so?"
"I wouldn't say it if I didn't," He climbs off the cart and walks to the back of it behind her where his clubs are. His voice is suddenly right in her ear. She can feel his breath on the nape of her neck as he leans in to her. "If only you knew what a distraction you can be, Samantha."
Her marriage counselor proceeds to select a club and starts to walk off to Stephen and Rebecca.
She's left sitting there in the cart with more questions than she started with today. There's a huge part of her that just wants to go up to him and ask him what the hell he's trying to do. This is after six weeks of the hot and cold act. She doesn't get it. Is she being too sensitive? Is this how people flirt? Or is this how people interact now? What does he mean by the distraction thing? Is she reading too much into it? She shakes her head furiously, wondering if she shakes it enough all the questions will stop coming in and she won't be so confused anymore. He makes it seem so easy to just act like nothing happened. To pretend there's not something here between them. Oh god, maybe there isn't. Maybe that's how crazy Cody has driven her- to the point that she's reading too much into basic human decency from her marriage counselor.
"Listen," she says to the young caddy when she decides to climb off the golf cart. She pulls him to the side away from the group and lowers her voice. "I need some alcohol. Can you get that for me?"
The kid glances nervously in the direction of Mr. Chambers before he looks back to her, nodding quickly. "Yes, I can do that. I'll just have to take a cart back but I can be quick."
"Great, thank you so much. Oh, and... Mike?" She reads from his name tag. "I'm not just asking for one mimosa, okay? I need you to keep it coming. I don't want to be without a glass for the rest of the day. It's very hot out here, I haven't eaten today, I don't understand the point of this sport, and honestly, I'm pretty sure I want to fuck my therapist. So you see, Mike, I have a lot of issues and I don't want to be sober right now. So if you have to bring all the ingredients out here and we have to self serve, let's do it."
From the look on the kids face, she can tell he's overwhelmed with this info dump. He just nods in response and proceeds to take one of the carts back in the direction of the club.
"Sammy girl, where are you sending my caddy off to?" Stephen calls over to her.
She forces a smile on her face as she joins the group. Rebecca has her hands on her hips with a raised eyebrow, a slight look of amusement on her face. Henry has taken to already positioning himself and his club after placing the golf ball down so he doesn't seem to pay any mind to the discussion.
"I just thought the four of us could use some mimosas, that's all." She answers.
Stephen smiles. "I like your thinking."
It had nothing to do with you, she thinks but bites her cheeks to keep from letting it slip.
"Now if only we could get that husband of yours out here," Stephen continues, watching Henry hit the ball straight into the hole.
"Ooh, wouldn't that be a sight to see," Rebecca snickers, following up with a borrowed club after Henry is finished making his play.
"Please. Cody hates anything that makes him sweat." Sam chuckles.
Stephen sighs heavily. "Yes, that boy's never been one for any type of physical labor, has he? I don't often have regrets but that's one thing I wish I could go back and do again. I would've made those boys get jobs as soon as they were of age. It certainly did me some good. I used to spend every summer mowing the neighbors lawns. Bought my first motorcycle with that money. And once I turned 16, I joined the workforce. McDonald's, can you believe it? There's another regret. I should've invested in their stock a long time ago..."
"Oh yes, McDonald's. Back in the good old days when employees could live off of minimum wage. I don't think I've ever had the chance to thank your generation for fucking the economy." Rebecca says while she's focused on hitting the ball.
If it was anybody but Rebecca saying it, there'd be a very different reaction. Instead, Stephen just laughs. "Rebecca, sometimes I wonder just how old you believe me to be. You're talking about the boomers, dear. If anything, I've done more than enough in my life time to help this economy."
"Whatever you say, old man." She quips back, offering a cheeky smile before she hits her ball.
Henry remains quiet, his eyes moving back and forth between the group members. But he avoids looking at Sam. Great, back to cold Henry.
"That reminds me, Sammy girl. We've had yet to receive any invitation for Cody's birthday party. Tell me, is this a new thing? A no parents allowed party?" Stephen smirks.
The mention of her husband's birthday completely blind sides her. She's not really sure how it escaped her. Every year, without fail, she plans an extravagant party on the birthday boy's behalf. It normally takes weeks to plan; securing all the deposits, having the guests RSVP, working it into Cody's schedule. She searches her memory for today's date. Shit. Two weeks until the special day.
"Oh, uh, well, to be honest-" She starts. Might as well admit the truth. I haven't been able to plan your son's ridiculous birthday party this year, and frankly, I don't think I care to, sir.
"Did Monica not call you?" Henry suddenly asks her. He sees her confused frown and gives her a look: just go with it, his eyes say. "I'm so sorry. I thought she left you a message about the stack of cards you left at my office. It looked like they were addressed to a bunch of people. I'm assuming those are the invites?"
Once again, he's left her confused. Stack of cards? No such thing exists. Why is he trying to help her lie about a stupid birthday party?
"Oh, you found them? Thank god! I was worried I'd have to try to find all those addresses and get all new copies." She hears herself say.
"I don't know how you and Claire do it. The whole party planning business. Maybe I am old. It just seems so... exhausting." Stephen says, seemingly accepting of the Bull shit story of lost invitations. Henry has bought her some time.
"Why don't you swing by my office after this to pick them up?" Henry says.
"Rebecca, are you alright if we stop by Henry's office after this? I need to grab something." Sam calls to her friend, who has struggled greatly with this hole and getting the ball in. This must be her 7th attempt now.
"Happy to." Rebecca chimes, a look of preoccupation spread over her features.
"If you want, I can take you and then drop you off at your house myself. It's no trouble." Henry says.
Sam's first instinct is to immediately accept the invitation. It's more alone time with him and she'll take whatever she can get. But something stops her. No, she's not going to make an ass out herself in front of him anymore. If he's going to continue playing this game of hot and cold, she won't be afraid to play as well. She smiles politely at him. "Thanks but I think I'll have Beck take me. I'd like to make a quick errand of it. You know, I've just got so much more to do with this party and all."
His mouth opens but then closes. He clears his throat, slowly nodding. He looks at her with a somewhat tentative smile. "Whatever you say."
***
A few hours later, the game is over. Rebecca wins to Stephen's dismay. They seemed to be the only ones taking the game seriously. Once the caddy came back with a tray full of mimosas, Sam focused most of her attention onto the drinks. The rest of her attention was dedicated to playing Henry's own game. As far as she was concerned, he was just her marriage counselor- nothing more. After several drinks, the other three decided she would simply observe the rest of the day. Rebecca probably drank just as much but her friend has a better tolerance for alcohol. I'm hardly in a position to judge another person's drinking, Stephen had joked. Henry just shook his head and flexed his jaw. She couldn't quite read him at that point.
"Well, I think we can safely assume neither of you ladies are driving home," Stephen said when they got back to the club and started heading for the exit.
"I'll take them home," It's the first time Henry has spoken for the last hour.
"I can always count on you, Good." Stephen clapped his hand on his friend's back before taking a call on his ringing phone and proceeding to his car in the parking lot.
Sam and Rebecca were standing at the front entrance giggling to one another while the men exchanged their goodbyes. Henry announces to them that he's going to pull his car up so they don't have to walk. If they can.
Sam watches him walk ahead, and she sighs, playfully hitting her friends shoulder. "Way to go, Becks."
"Ow! Hey, what was that for?" Rebecca slurred.
"You're supposed to be the designated driver. Now he's got to take us home."
"Oh, forgive me, I thought you'd be jumping on the chance for more time with him." Rebecca says. "And also, you're the one who ordered all the drinks. Now I'll have to have Paul pick up the car and I really don't want to deal with another lecture. So I partially blame you."
Sam sighs and goes to sit at the curb while they wait for Henry.
"Hey," Rebecca takes the spot next to her. "If it helps, he likes you, okay?"
"Ha. Yeah. What's not to like?" She says sarcastically.
"I'm serious. When you drove back with Stephen, I asked him."
Sam's eyes widen and she turns to her friend. "You what?! Becks, seriously? Why would you do that?"
"Because the suspension was killing me." Her friend shrugs simply.
Sam groans into her hands. Oh god. She's seen her friend this drunk before and you never know what will come out of her mouth. Who knows if she even heard his answer right? From the way he's been acting, he could've just told Beck that he cared about Sam. The same way he probably cares for his other patients. Yeah, it's probably something like that. "What did you say exactly?"
Becks drapes her arm around her friends shoulder and laughs. "I said: hey mister, what's the deal with you and my best friend? And he said, you know what, Rebecca, I've been asking myself the same thing."
"Wait, really? Beck. Look at me. Is that really what he said?" She hates that she asks this, like an eager giddy school girl. This is like grade school.
Just then Henry pulls up in his Lamborghini in front of them and exits his side of the car.
"That's what he said. Just ask him yourself." Rebecca jumps to her feet rather clumsily. "Hey, Henry, remember when I asked-"
Sam's all too quick to shut her friend up, covering her mouth with her hand. "Shut up, Beck!" She hisses.
Henry's standing in front of them now. His eyebrows are raised towards Rebecca but then he looks at Sam for some clarification.
"She's really tired," Sam lies, slowly uncovering her friends mouth once she's sure she won't say anything stupid.
"I am?" Rebecca frowns in confusion and catches on to the warning look Sam gives her. "Oh yeah, yeah," She looks back to Henry and fakes a yawn. "I am. I'm really tired. Do you mind if I lay in the back?"
Jeez, thank god Rebecca gave up her dream of acting. She's not exactly winning any Oscars with this performance.
"Of course." Henry seems to accept the lie though. Or maybe he just doesn't want to deal with the drunk girls any longer than he has to.
"Great. I'll sit in the back with you." Sam starts in that direction.
"Oh no, Sam, I'd like to stretch my legs out as much as I can. You're going to sit up front." Her friend gives her a hard shove in Henry's direction before she climbs into the back of the lambo and closes the door.
Sam stumbles hard into Henry's body. It's just like Stephen's party all over again. Except this time, He catches her, his big strong hands gently holding onto her upper arms so she can steady herself. She tries not to focus on his body pressed against hers. It's something she's found herself craving. She likes being this close to him. He's so tall that she has to tilt her head back to look up at his face. He's already looking down at her. Having taken off his sunglasses, she feels his eyes searching her face. His eyes flash with something... Concern, confusion, conflict? She's not sure.
"S-Sorry." She says, trying to step back.
His fingers tighten around her arms, keeping her where she is. "Is Cody home right now?"
Why is he asking this? As bad as it sounds, Cody is the furthest thing from her mind right now. "I-I don't think so. Why?"
"I thought I heard you tell the caddy you haven't eaten today," He says. "Among... Other things."
What the hell? Does this guy have super hearing or something? Her face goes red and she swallows, dropping her eyes to their shoes. "N-No. I mean, yes. We skipped brunch. But it's fine. We'll eat when we get to my house."
"Are you really in a state to be cooking?"
"I've been drunker." She raises her head to look at him, tilting her chin up, trying to come off as confident. Why does he care?
"I don't really appreciate your attitude, Samantha," His voice is low. His fingers move to her defiant chin. "I understand there's a lot on your plate. And I'm trying to help with that as much as I can. Have you ever considered the fact that maybe I'm just as confused as you are about... certain things?"
She's shocked to hear this next sentence. She swallows. "Well. That's what therapy's for, right? To talk about... things."
"It's not that simple." He says, dropping her chin and releasing his other hand on her arm. "Now would you please get in the car?"
"I hope you know," she says, reaching for the door handle to the passenger side as he makes his way to his side. "Mitchell and I are good friends. So I'm not sure what you heard me say to him but we joke around a lot."
He stops before getting in his side, looking at her from across the roof of the car. The corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. "The caddy's name is Mike. But Mitchell sounds just lovely."