Free Moments Lost and Found by Olivia Jake Page A

his house, Sam wasn’t quite
sure what to do. She knew what she wanted to do — go home, have a glass
of wine and go to sleep. But she also knew that blowing off Laurent Román was
not a good idea. Especially after how personally offended he was after he felt
rebuked in his office. She didn’t know if checking with him was weak or just
being an adult.  But she had to do something, so she went the easiest
route possible: IM
    SD: Hi. Should I still come over
tonight?
    LR: Why wouldn’t you?
    SD: Because of this morning’s
meeting.
    LR: That’s work, Samantha.
    Sam rolled her eyes. She couldn’t
argue that point with him. He was right, but did he have to be such a
patronizing ass?
    SD: Ok, I’ll see you later.
    LR: Good.
    Once again, Sam felt like she was
being weak which was a feeling she hated and only felt with Laurent. She didn’t
want to see him, but knew that if she suggested they call tonight off, it would
turn into a bigger deal. So, like with so many other things with Laurent, she
looked at this as a learning experience and if it didn’t go well, she could
always leave then.
     
    Sam let herself in, like she was
used to doing, and found Laurent in the living room with a glass of scotch,
which was not his normal drink for a Friday night. Typically, they’d share a
bottle of red wine together as they relaxed from the week. Sam thought that she
should have done what she wanted to do and stayed home. But there was no
turning back now.
     “Samantha.” He said in a low
growl. From the sounds of it, this was not his first drink. And by the looks of
it, the way he sat in an overstuffed chair, there was something about his body
language that was antagonistic. 
     “Laurent.” Was all she could
think to say. She was acutely aware of him and his movements, and it didn’t
feel good or right.
     “Can I get you a drink?” There
was something about the way he said this, the way he was acting that wasn’t
solicitous. It was laced with something. Anger?
     “Looks like you’ve already had
a couple.” She was tired of worrying. Whatever was going to happen she’d just
as soon get it over with.
     “Astute as ever, Cheri .”
He almost smiled, but then went serious again, “But you didn’t answer me.”
     “Sure, I’ll have what you’re
having.” She said with bravado. Fuck it, she thought. He wanted a fight, Sam
was going to fight like the big boys. Even though she hated scotch, it was
easier than taking time to go through the motions of opening a bottle of wine
that would probably barely be touched.
    He got up to pour her a glass. When
he brought it over, they clinked glasses, looking each other in the eye as they
did. Sam took a big sip, really, more like a gulp. And her hopes of acting like
a man were dashed immediately. She tried to hold in the cough, but it burned
like hell, so she coughed, and coughed like a teenager taking her first sip of
alcohol. When she finally stopped, she saw Laurent smiling and quietly
chuckling at her. “ Bravo, Cheri . You really showed me.” Sam was already
defeated if he knew that was her intention with having the drink in the first
place.
    While she didn’t like the scotch, it
had the desired effect of immediate liquid courage, “Whatever you want to say,
Laurent, please just say it. Or stand there and laugh at me, or scowl at me.
You’re the one who suggested we should still get together tonight, so I’m here.
But if you want to fight, then,” and before she could finish he interrupted.
     “Drink your drink, Samantha.” Was
all he said as he finished his. He stood up and poured himself another and
brought the bottle over to Sam. Not one to back down from a challenge, she
threw back the rest of her drink, this time keeping it down, and held out her
glass. He raised his eyebrow slightly like he was mildly impressed and then
refilled her glass. Sam was already feeling the effects of the first drink, so
she sat down. She was at once relaxed from the alcohol, and