Sam
“DO I LOOK okay?” Reece asked.
Sam was watching Better Call Saul on Netflix and she glanced at Reece, who was standing at the base of the ladder staircase that led up to the bedroom loft. His sky-blue eyes were a little wild, and he was fidgeting with his belt. It was rare for Reece to be nervous. Instead of laughing, she turned off the television and stood to face him, twirling her finger with a grin. He frowned but spun around. His ass looked marvellous in his new jeans, the black T-shirt showed off impressive abdomen and bicep definition, and he’d had his thick black hair cut in a way that tamed the cowlick above his left eye. The crooked tooth in his otherwise straight white teeth was showing, and the dimple in his right cheek puckered when he smiled at her. Her partner in life and in business was amazing in every regard. Sam enjoyed a moment of smug self-satisfaction. Her mother would swoon.
Even the thought of her mother caused Sam to wince internally. How was she going to get through an entire evening with the woman? It didn’t matter that other people would be at the party she and Reece were attending. Other people’s presence did little to curb her mother’s sharp tongue. In fact, an audience gave Grace, who was anything but gracious, plenty of opportunities to make her daughter look like a troll. For over three years, Sam had cut her out of her life. Now she had to introduce the heinous woman to her fiancé. Thinking about the next few hours made her stomach roll with anxiety.
They’d planned to visit over Christmas, but Sam’s stepfather had taken Grace to Europe to meet with an Alzheimer specialist. Since returning, Harvey and Reece had both been pestering her about the introduction. It was stupid to have ignored them. If she’d arranged to go over for a drink, they could have had a short visit and escaped. Instead, poor Reece would be stuck at a party all night with Grace telling nasty stories about what a miserable brat her daughter had been.
Since Lisa grew up next door and knew her family dynamics, going behind her back and inviting Grace and Harvey to the party was a crappy thing to do, In fact, everything Lisa was doing these days was shitty. Reece disliked her best friend, and Sam couldn’t blame him. He’d never seen the warm, caring side of the beautiful Italian artist. This new Lisa was a stranger. It was as if an alien had transformed her childhood friend into an unrecognizable bitch.
The whole situation sucked and Sam was dreading the party. At least there was nothing negative Grace could say about Reece. Mother Dearest would love everything about him.
“Is it too much black?” he was asking, and she tried to focus on him rather than worrying about the hideous party. “Should I wear a button shirt? Maybe the T-shirt is too tight.” Reece tugged at the sleeves and frowned.
Sam was about to tell him how fantastic he looked when her eyes fell on the watch he was wearing. His dad’s Rolex never left the safe deposit box.
“You look great.” She took his hand and ran the fingertips of her other hand across the face of the watch. “Your dad’s watch looks great on you, too.”
He licked his lips and swallowed. “Yeah, well, you know. Since I’m meeting your mother for the first time…”
She smiled. “You wanted a piece of your family with you.”
“Stupid, eh?”
“Not at all,” she said. “You know, your dad would be proud of you.”
His face crinkled with distaste and he shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t. On top of not finishing law school, I left the OPP.” He turned away to pick up his jacket.
Dumb, dumb, dumb. Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut? His father had been a federal court judge, and, from what Lisa’s lawyer husband had told her, Justice Hash had ranked judges followed by lawyers at the top of the law enforcement pack. Federal police, provincial police, and municipal police followed. PIs didn’t rank at all. According to Justice Hash, they were useless organisms, slithering around in the muck, impeding intelligent people’s attempts to avoid anarchy within the masses. Although he’d never said, Sam imagined a young Reece calling his father “My Lord” rather than “Dad.”
“So, before we go, is there anything you need to tell me?” Reece asked.
Fair question. Last year, she’d told him her mother was dead. They had almost broken up when he discovered the truth—well, that and a few other lies that blew up in her face. Sometimes late at night, she still woke in a cold sweat over how close she’d come to destroying their relationship.
“Yes. My mother is a bitch.”
He laughed. “Something you haven’t already told me.”
She sighed. “With the exception of Talia, you’ve met everyone who’ll be at the party, so no surprises there. Remember, Grace has a habit of using the Alzheimer’s as an excuse to be mean. My stepfather told me last week she’s had amazing success with a trial drug for early onset. Don’t let her bamboozle you.”
“Well, people change when they face serious illness.” He picked up his phone and put it in his pocket. “I’m excited to meet her.”
A nasty prickle of apprehension scurried up her neck. Evil people did not change but she held her tongue. “Remember your promise,” she said instead.
The response was a dismissive hand gesture. “I’m the Starship Enterprise with a non-interference directive. I’m not going to try to force you to mend your relationship.” He paused. “Even though it’s important to sort through the pain. You don’t want regrets.”
Amazing how couples always circle back to the main personality difference between them. Reece was a “confront the past and work toward closure” personality. She was a “do it and be done with it” type. Time to change the subject.
“Be warned,” she said. “Lisa has theme parties.”
Reece went to the front door and held it open. “Geez, I hate those. Why can’t adults get together to celebrate something without turning it into a kids’ party?”
“Well, you said earlier that you’re starving. You’ll like the food. It’ll be catered by some up-and-coming chef.” She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “It always is at Lisa’s parties. Me, I’d prefer burgers on the barbecue. I’ve never understood the purpose of things like micro-greens.”
Reece laughed. “They’re pretty. We eat with our eyes.”
Sam picked up her keys and wandered around the loft, bending to give Brandy, their golden retriever, a pat.
“Stop dawdling,” Reece said. “I’m activating the alarm. You have sixty seconds to get your butt out the door.” He keyed in the code.
With a sigh, she shuffled over and he kissed the top of her head. “It won’t be that bad. I’ll protect you from your mother.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist. “We could stay home and have alone time,” she suggested, with what she hoped was a seductive smile. She wasn’t good at seduction and wasn’t surprised when he laughed at her.
“Fine,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s get this hell over with.”
* * *
“THEY AREN’T COMING,” Lisa announced the second they’d walked through the door of the High Park house. “So stop bitching at me for inviting a guest to my party without asking your permission.”
From the corner of her eye, Sam caught the disappointment on Reece’s face.
“Why not?” she asked.
“How should I know?” Lisa glanced at Reece with a sour expression and didn’t acknowledge him.
Oh boy. This is going to be a fun evening.
“Hi Lisa, nice to see you.” Reece leaned in and pecked her cheek. “Thanks for inviting us.”
In lieu of a greeting, Lisa said, “It’s an urban animal theme.”
That explained the squirrel costume.
“Where’s my gorgeous goddaughter?” Sam asked, peeking over Lisa’s shoulder to the family room.
“Staying overnight with my brother and Janice. Kira wants you to take her to the zoo on Saturday,” Lisa said. “Can you please call her? She doesn’t understand why you aren’t around.” She shot Reece a scathing glare. “Her feelings are hurt.”
“Sounds fun,” she said, ignoring Lisa’s guilt trip. “So long as it’s just me and Kira.”
Typically, Lisa’s sister-in-law pawned her three little monsters off on Lisa. Sam always referred to her friend as having “kids”—plural rather than singular—and she wasn’t fond of Lisa’s nephews. She wasn’t taking them to the zoo, where they would wreak havoc and she wouldn’t be able to corral them. On the other hand, she adored her five-year-old goddaughter. She wasn’t keen about gawking at animals trapped in cages outside their natural habitats, but maybe she could coax Kira into staying around the petting zoo and stuffing her chubby cheeks with treats.
More guests had arrived and Reece was speaking to an owl. Because of the costume, Sam couldn’t tell who it was and wandered into the living room. Lisa had decorated it as a city park. A woodland mural hung against the long wall that divided the front room from the formal dining room, and a couple of inflatable trees sat beside papier mâché rocks. Cheap synthetic grass covered the gorgeous Persian carpet. It was ridiculous, but Sam couldn’t help but laugh when she spied a park bench covered with graffiti.
In jarring contrast with the childish party decorations, formal servers dressed in black pants and starched white shirts strolled around the room with trays of hors d’oeuvres. A bartender operated a corner bar that displayed a vast assortment of booze, and catering staff was setting up an elaborate buffet in the dining room. The big prime rib roast was a welcome sight. Sam always feared that one of Lisa’s avant-garde chefs would reveal some disgusting delicacy, such as bull penis.
She chatted with a chipmunk, a bat, two birds, and a deer. The chipmunk was already drunk, and Sam didn’t blame him. None of the urban animals looked happy.
When she returned to the entry to fetch Reece, she found him holding two paper bags.
In answer to her unasked question, he dolefully said, “Costumes.”
Lisa popped her head back into the hallway. “I rented them because I knew you wouldn’t. You can change upstairs.” Her tone was judgemental when she added, “I’m sure your boyfriend is dying for a drink.” With that, she flounced away with her bushy tail wagging behind her.
“Is there a reason Lisa thinks I’m an alcoholic?” Reece asked. “Every time I see her, she implies I drink too much.”
Reece didn’t drink much and the comment wasn’t about him. “Her dad was an alcoholic,” she told him. “She’s sensitive around people she doesn’t know well and booze.”
“Then she shouldn’t serve it at parties.” He tugged her into the corner of the stairwell. “Why did she rent us costumes?”
“It’s just in fun.” Sam kept her tone cheery.
His jaw jutted out stubbornly. “We’re not five years old. I’m not wearing a bloody costume.”
“Abigail and Talia aren’t here yet, and Talia won’t wear a costume.” She flicked the brown bag. “If you don’t want to wear it, it’s not a big deal. At least take a look, okay?”
“Is Roger here?” Reece asked.
She shrugged. “Not that I noticed, why?”
“I am a little curious to see that fusspot in a costume.” He grinned at her.
She laughed and led him up the stairs to the bedrooms.
In the guest room, he handed her the bag with her name on it and opened his own.
Slowly, he extracted a black costume. “At least it matches my clothes.” He turned the fabric over in his hand. He froze and his eyes widened.
“What? What is it?”
He held it out but she couldn’t tell.
Once he turned it around to face her, she felt her own eyes widen.
“Oh.”
A long white stripe ran down the back of the black jumpsuit from the collar to the tip of a fluffy tail.
Reece dropped it on the bed. “I’m not wearing it,” he said with a composed tone but ugly expression.
It took her a minute to figure out what her brown suit with the white front was. When the animal came to mind, her cheeks flushed with anger.
Reece’s expression shifted to curiosity. “Well, what is it?”
“It’s… a weasel.”
He burst into laughter.
There was a knock on the door, and Sam yanked it open to find Jim the coyote and Roger the raccoon standing forlorn on the other side.
“I’m not wearing it,” Reece told Jim.
Jim draped a paw across Reece’s shoulder. “It’s over the top, I’ll give you that. I warned Lisa, but, when she gets an idea, she’s a pit bull with a kitten locked in its jaws.”
“What did you get?” Roger asked Sam as he tugged at the neck of his raccoon sweater.
“A weasel.”
Roger’s groomed eyebrow rose. “An oblique metaphor perchance?”
“Of course it is.” Reece waved his hands at the costumes. “She specifically chose these. It’s an insult.”
“You’re reading too much into this,” Jim said in his persuasive courtroom voice. “You don’t have to wear it. My wife has taken the theme too far. It was poor judgement, not a personal attack. Come on, let’s get a drink.”
Sam wasn’t positive it was unintentional. She ran the weasel costume through her fingers before dropping it to the bed beside Reece’s skunk.
Roger put his hand on her shoulder. “A word before you go, Sam.”
“Sure.”
After Reece left with Jim, Roger said, “I’m concerned about Lisa. She’s acting very disagreeable.”
“I know.”
He fussed with his raccoon gloves. “It started five months ago, after their Christmas party. That’s also when I became aware of the way she interacts with Reece. Lisa doesn’t like him.” He picked up the skunk costume. “This is her way of driving home her point. Did something happen between them?”
Before she could answer, someone started to shout obscenities from downstairs. It sounded like Talia, but Sam wasn’t sure. Alarmed, she followed Roger downstairs. The front door was wide open, and Talia was in the entry, looming over Lisa. Talia’s face was a mask of rage, and Lisa was screaming at her but wasn’t making any sense. Something about not knowing and how it wasn’t her fault.
Party guests stood in the doorway between the front foyer and the living room. Everyone wore shocked expressions, and it stunned Sam to see a few of the women crying. Reece exited the bathroom, looking confused by the crowd of people in the entry.
When Talia saw Reece, she pushed Lisa aside. What Sam glimpsed in the soldier’s eyes terrified her. Not understanding what was going on, she immediately felt a need to protect Reece and stood between him and her friend.
“It was you!” Talia screamed at Reece. “All those walks around the city. You sick motherfucker.”
Jim wrapped his arms around Talia. He was crying. Even as kids, Sam had never seen Jim cry. A ribbon of fear unravelled in her stomach, and a sharp cramp nearly doubled her over. Something had happened. Something terrible.
“I promise it wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Reece,” Jim said. “You’re distraught. Let us help you.”
“How could you do this to me, Talia?” Lisa yelled through tears. “How could you say such a terrible thing to me?”
Someone had shut off the music. Stunned servers stood stationary among the sobbing guests.
Sam grabbed Lisa’s upper arm. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Abigail.” Lisa’s voice trembled. “She’s dead.”
“What? How?” Sam’s eyes darted between Lisa and Talia. Shock prevented her from accepting what she’d just heard. “When? I don’t understand.”
“She was pregnant!” Talia screamed, fighting against Jim’s grip. “She killed herself.”
Sam couldn’t breathe. Her chest felt tight, and there was a ringing in her ears. She slid down the wall and landed with a thump on the floor. Reece rushed to her side, helped her up, and gripped her shoulders, forcing her to look up at him.
His voice was calm—a cop’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Sam. But you know Abby and I were never together that way.”
“She was afraid of men!” Talia screamed. “You’re the only men she’d ever trust. One of you knows who violated her!”
Lisa’s face drained of colour. She was gripping Roger’s hand so tightly he was wincing.
“I know it wasn’t you,” Sam whispered to Reece. “Get rid of everyone. Get them out of here.”
He nodded and left to herd people to the door. Jim dragged Talia into his office. Lisa followed and slammed the door closed behind her.
Sam leaned against the wall, clamping an iron fist around the pain and shock. She’d known something was wrong. Abigail had always been fragile, and Talia’s second deployment had crushed her. The signs of depression were so obvious now.
Talia’s accusations still ringing in her ears, her eyes fell on Roger, sitting on the stairs with his face in his hands. Roger had offered to counsel Abigail four months ago. Disgust and anger took the place of the pain.
No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t have.
But he had before. Years ago, he’d taken advantage of a patient. She’d seen it with her own eyes. He’d lost objectivity and had given in to his attraction, harming his patient in the process. This time it wasn’t just a patient. It was Abigail, whom he’d known for nearly three decades. Why would he develop feelings for her now?
It’s a symptom of physician burnout, a voice whispered in her head. Just like last time.
Reece’s voice drew her from her miserable thoughts. “Babe, Lisa asked that we leave. Jim is trying to talk to Talia and thinks it’s best if everyone goes.”
“I never attended Abigail’s performance,” she said. “I didn’t see her dance with The National Ballet. Now I’ll never see her dance again.”
“I know.”
Tears burned behind her eyes and she pushed him to the door. “Go, I need a minute.”
Reece went outside, and Sam turned to stare at Roger.
His expression was cold as his pale blue eyes held hers. “Accuse me again, Sam, I’ll ruin you.”