There’s a tightness in my chest, and I force myself not to cry. Lonely rich boy, unable to tell anyone other than his hired escort what really matters to him. I feel sorry for him, but I’m angry with him, too.
He could have someone by his side, understanding what matters to him. But as far as I can tell, he hasn’t even considered that we could have that.
“Well. Maybe you should let other people in. Let them know how deeply you care about this.”
He shakes his head. “That would require getting any of them to stop and listen.”
I don’t have an answer to that, so I go back to looking out the window.
When we arrive at the venue, the driver helps me out of the car, and Dante is by my side in an instant. There are photographers, reporters, and they start snapping photos of us immediately. Dante smiles and waves, and I manage a few smiles of my own. When we step inside, the ballroom is full of men in tuxes, women in evening gowns. A string quartet plays, and tuxedoed waiters snake between chatting groups of people, offering canapés or flutes of champagne.
***
Dante
Samantha is by my side, and I’m being honored for doing work that matters to me. This is something I’ve dreamed of, and yet none of it feels right.
I want to tell her so badly. I want to tell her I need her, that I want her to stay in my life. I want to beg her to move in with me, but I haven’t been able to say the words to her. She’s so distant tonight. When I got the call from Susan that she’d had Samantha’s things moved back into her apartment, it was like being sucker-punched in the balls. I can’t lose her.
But what keeps stopping me is knowing that she has plans. She wants her father to get out of this city. She wants to make a real run at her dream, and now she can. What kind of asshole would ask her to put her dreams on hold for him?
It feels like she’s already gone, and it’s killing me.
It hit me last night, holding her after we’d finally worn each other out, that I want that every night. The differences between her world and mine, all that shit that once made me so sure this couldn’t work…all of it fades away next to the prospect of losing her, of not having her sweet smile, her dark eyes, or the way she murmurs my name. She sees me, not for my money or connections, but for who I am. She doesn’t pull punches when I’m acting like an asshole, and she doesn’t let me tell her what to do. I never knew how much I needed someone like her.
And now she’s almost gone.
A good man would let her go, let her start her new life on her terms.
I’m not that good of a man.
As we make our rounds of the ballroom, I introduce her to friends and associates. She greets my father and Janet warmly, remembers my brother’s whining about his golf game and asks him about it.
I was an idiot to ever think she doesn’t fit in here.
I introduce her to people I want to work with for my charity foundation, and she listens closely to them as they prattle on about possibilities for funding and implementation. She seems genuinely interested, even asking them questions. It’s clear that they’re charmed by her, and I can’t blame them. Though if Donald Kramer doesn’t stop looking at her like that, I’m going to knock him out, no matter how much he’s promised to the foundation.
Across the room, I see a group of people I invited specifically with Samantha in mind. I excuse us, and we head through the crowd toward them.
“Samantha, this is Reginald Kirby. He’s—”
“You wrote ‘Distance,’” she says, naming a show that’s just opened to a ridiculous amount of good press. She sounds awestruck, and Reginald smiles at her.
“Have you seen the show?” he asks her.
Samantha shakes her head. “Not yet, but it’s on my bucket list,” she tells him with a smile.
“Dante tells me you’re a theater person,” Reginald says to her, and I nod. He’s an old acquaintance of mine, someone I fell out of touch with until I realized what a musical theater fan Samantha is. I’m grateful he agreed to not only show up tonight, but also to talk to Samantha.
“I’m trying to be,” she says with a smile. Reginald asks her about her acting experience, and then the whole group is in full-scale theater geek mode. I smile and see my father beckoning for me.
I lean in toward Samantha. “I need to go do something. Okay if I leave you here with Reginald for a little bit?”
“You couldn’t take her away if you tried,” Reginald says with a grin.
“I’ll be fine,” S
amantha says.