Chapter 50

AccompanyingNatalia to an industry dinner had seemed like a fun idea. Dressed in a tailored blue suit and the gorgeous Cartier cufflinks Natalia had gifted her for the occasion, Sam was nearly out of small talk and absolutely famished.

On the other side of the restaurant’s private room, packed tight with a dozen people drinking and talking and ignoring the roaming appetizers that Sam was eying like a starved predator, was a flash of red in a sea of dark suits.

Addressing the group of men hanging on to her every word, Natalia was impossible to look away from. Sam was mesmerized watching her work the room. The way she commanded respect without saying a word was so hot, Sam couldn’t think of anything else.

The TV producer standing next to Sam was droning on about his latest project, the same thing he’d been talking to himself about for twenty minutes.

Sam made a noncommittal gesture with her head, which sent him off on another tangent. She didn’t understand how Natalia could endure these events, but was still thrilled that she’d invited her.

Since the trip on the boat two weeks earlier, Natalia had surprised her with increasing intimacy. She’d confided in her more about her parents and her experiences growing up, even divulged some heartrending details about Kate.

Sam resisted the urge to close her eyes to shut out the memories. Even secondhand, the pain had almost been overwhelming. But Sam hadn’t dared show any pity. Instead, she’d focused on how much Natalia had overcome. How impressive she was for not letting life grind her into gravel.

Sam was about to reach for a passing hard-boiled egg, her stomach growling, but the TV producer’s hand jutted out in front of her and snagged it. It was the final straw.

Excusing herself, Sam was heading out of the private room to find anything to eat in the restaurant proper. As soon as she met Natalia’s gaze, she turned from the suit talking to her, leaving him mid-sentence and starting for Sam.

“Everything alright?” Concern flashed across Natalia’s perfect face.

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t mean to distract you. I was just going to find something to eat.”

Natalia looked down at her thin, gold watch. “We have dinner with Blanca and Greta,” she said, as if Sam had forgotten.

“We don’t have to?—”

“I’ve been here long enough,” Natalia decided without looking back at the group waiting for her to return. “We can go now.” She slipped her hand over the crook of Sam’s arm. “I’m starving, and if I see one more shrimp puff, I’m going to vomit.”

Sam laughed. “At least you’ve gotten those. I must have pissed someone off and there was a concerted effort not to feed me.”

“You and your sparkling charm, Dr. Reyes?” Natalia’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “I don’t believe it.”

Sam opened the door to the private room and found the restaurant quieter than the steady roar of a dozen boring conversations. “We really don’t have to go.” She walked a little slower to give Natalia a chance to change her mind. “We can meet up with them some other time. You’re at work.”

Even wearing her highest heels, Natalia was still a little shorter than Sam. A fact Sam loved when Natalia had to turn her head up to look at her.

“Samantha, if I tell you I’m ready to go, I’m ready to go. I’m not going to be nice to you and do something I don’t want to do.”

With a chuckle that rattled in her chest and warmed her face, Sam shook her head. “Babe, what have I told you about sweet-talking me like that in public? I’m not going to be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“Probably the same thing I’ve told you about calling me babe, yet here we are,” Natalia shot back.

God, I love you, Sam thought before saying, “Charmer,” and opening the door for Natalia to step out into the humid summer night.

It was a short drive from the Brickell restaurant to the Coconut Grove wine bar where they were meeting friends. The place was within walking distance to Sam’s house, and she’d intended to drop Natalia off and then drop her car at home, but Natalia had insisted on coming with her.

Together, they stepped out into the balmy evening. When they reached a crosswalk, the residential area giving way to bars and restaurants and closed shops, Natalia’s hand bumped against hers. Instead of pulling it away, Natalia’s fingers hooked on to hers. Surprised by the contact, Sam looked down to confirm that she wasn’t hallucinating. Natalia had intertwined their fingers.

Glancing over at Natalia, she searched for some kind of recognition. A signal that she realized what she had done. But Natalia’s expression gave nothing away. She stared straight ahead like they did this all the time.

Heart close to failing under its own expanding weight, Sam grinned. Leading Natalia around a bend, she squeezed her hand. Her pulse rocketed when Natalia responded with an idle caress with her thumb before dropping her hand when they neared the restaurant.

Feeling like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day balloon, Sam had to pull back her fluttering emotions to fit through the wine bar’s patio entrance. The moment they stepped inside, they collided with the small table where Greta and Blanca were waiting, mouthwatering food already served.

Natalia smiled graciously as Sam’s friends greeted them enthusiastically. Sam couldn’t take her eyes off her — the way she seamlessly switched from elegant agent to relaxed and charming in this casual setting.

They settled into their seats and soon wine glasses were clinking as the conversation flowed. Sam mostly listened, chiming in now and then, but content to watch Natalia dazzle. She couldn’t have dreamed a better outcome than what she already had.

“So, Natalia, you must have some good celebrity stories from your career,” Blanca said while passing around the braised Brussels sprouts. “Any fun mishaps with famous clients?”

“That would be wildly inappropriate for me to share,” she replied dryly, but Sam heard the playful undercurrent. “But I can make something up about a completely fictional client.”

Greta and Blanca both leaned forward like the proximity to celebrity was enthralling. Sam leaned back, wine in hand, and transfixed on Natalia.

“There is this little awards show. You probably haven’t heard of it. Let’s call it the Lemmy’s.” Natalia sipped her wine after earning a chuckle from Greta. “And let’s say that one of my up-and-comers was getting ready to walk the red carpet when I spotted a much, much bigger actor wearing the exact same dress as my client.”

“No,” Blanca gasped, like Natalia had said that she was surrounded by starving sharks in the open ocean.

Natalia tipped her head in acknowledgment. “Now something like that can be great. You suffer a little embarrassment, but your picture is plastered all over entertainment news outlets the next day. Free publicity, right?”

Greta and Blanca nodded like they had any idea about celebrity gossip rags. The sight of their interest was the warmth spreading through Sam’s tingling body. She never imagined a moment like this. Never thought it could feel so easy again.

“Well, this imaginary client bursts into tears on the spot.” Natalia set her glass down, using both hands to tell her story. “And I look at her and say pull it together, you know? The cameras are always watching and the last thing you want is to be caught blubbering.” Natalia shook her head. “For some reason that made things worse, and well, agonizing story short, I let the starlet have my dress, which even with every safety pin in the world was too big on her?—”

“And what the hell did you wear?” Blanca blurted.

“I paid a nice young man to give me his khakis and polo.”

“And he went home naked?” Sam couldn’t help but ask.

Natalia shrugged and reached for her glass again. “What happened to an imaginary kid? I have no idea, Professor.”

Locked in her gaze, Sam laughed. She was a rush of emotions, senses on overload, and longing for more.

“Who is the absolute worst person you’ve ever met?” Blanca asked, cheeks red from the wine and heat and gossip.

Natalia broke eye contact and returned her attention to Blanca. For a moment, Sam wondered if she was going to tell her that was enough, but instead Natalia obliged.

“I can trust that this won’t end up on TMZ?” Natalia leaned toward them, tone conspiratorial.

They nodded in unison.

Natalia mouthed a name that Sam didn’t catch, but she didn’t interrupt the story with a question. “She has the personality of wallpaper. And not an interesting pattern. The kind of wallpaper that’s just a solid color and completely not worth the hassle of putting up.”

“I knew it!” Blanca slammed her hand on the table in victory. “Haven’t I always said she looks awful?”

Greta nodded dutifully.

Under the table, Sam slid her hand over Natalia’s thigh. Natalia shot her an inscrutable look, but it was only one heart-pounding second before she rested her hand over Sam’s and continued talking.

Hours later, Sam and Natalia strolled back to Sam’s place. Floating from the wine and Natalia’s hand loosely in hers, Sam took another chance.

“Do you want to stay over?” she asked when they started walking up her driveway.

“A sleepover, Professor?” Natalia leveled her with a gaze, but continued toward Sam’s front door. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

Sam unlocked the door, a grin on her lips. “Oh, I’m ready.”

“If you snore?—”

“Banished to my own guest room, I know.” She held the door open and made no attempt to hide her excitement.

Hooking her finger in the loop of Sam’s trousers, she gave her a smoldering look before pulling her inside. “Come on then. I want you to do that thing with your tongue again.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said with her lucky dog grin.