Page 11 of Sam
It hit me then that Mum had said that the office manager would start today. I’m wracking my brain trying to remember if she’d told me who, but as my head had been filled with a new design at the time, I hadn’t been listening to what she’d said. I kind of switched off once she mentioned she had someone starting. Going to the coffeepot, I pour a cup and lean back on the counter. I can hear her talking to someone, so either someone’s in the main office with her, or she’s on the phone.
Taking a sip of coffee, I sigh. “Fuck, that’s good,” I mutter, taking another sip, wondering if we changed brands, but when I check, it’s our same one. Whatever, I’m not sure what our new managerhas done to it, but as far as I’m concerned, she’s now the main coffee maker. I’ve taken another sip when I hear her footsteps coming back and everything becomes clear. Ally O’Shea, but not the girl I knew. Nope, she’s all grown now. The last time I’d seen her was nearly five years ago.‘Fuck, how has it been that long when the Crows and O’Sheas were in each other’s pockets?’
She’s as beautiful as ever, but I can see the toll that her attack has taken on her. I tune in to her conversation, and it’s then that I notice her shaking hands and how pale her face is. There isn’t a drop of colour in her cheeks, the smattering of freckles on them standing out in stark contrast.
“Dad, I promise I’m fine. It’s only Sam. I guess he forgot that there was a new system in place.” She looks up at me and the first thing I think is,‘Were her eyes always that blue?’Then I realise that under her tired eyes are black rings and my heart clenches at her air of frailty. No, this isn’t the same quiet but happy girl I’d known years ago. This is a woman who has survived something terrible, and it’s written all over her.
“Sam,” Ally says loudly. “Huh?” I answer. My brain doesn’t seem to be firing on all cylinders this morning.
“Sam,” Ally says again, holding a phone out to me, “can you speak to my dad and let him know he doesn’t need to come here?”
“Shit, yeah, sorry, Ally. I’ve been up since four and forgot you were starting today.” I take the phone from her and Adam is on the other end, losing his mind.
“Adam,” I say, and he goes quiet. “I’m sorry I gave you all a fright. The new system and the new office manager starting today slipped my mind. I’m here now and Ally is fine,” I reassure him. Or she will be once she stops shaking, but somehow, I don’tthink she wants him knowing that. “Look,” I offer, “if it makes you feel better you can put cameras in here.”
Ally’s shaking her head at me. My eyebrows raise at her motion. I turn my attention back to Adam, who’s replying, “No, she’ll hate that. I’ll work on not panicking.” He hesitates before continuing, “She’s my little girl, Sam… and fuck, I’m trying not to smother her, but it’s hard when I nearly lost her.”
I get it now. I’d heard through the grapevine that he’d been the one to find her. Enough was enough. I needed to get my head out of my arse. I may have had my heart broken, but others had it worse.
“I understand, Adam. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everyone knows they can’t just walk in anymore. Only the MC will have the new code, and I’ll tell them that even they have to buzz to be let in. We’ll make sure that Ally feels safe here.”
My eyes haven’t left Ally. She’s still shaking and is now leaning against the counter. “Thanks, Sam, one of us can pick her up this evening if she needs us to.”
“I’ll have her call you this afternoon if she needs that, or I can drop her home.” I’m not sure where that offer comes from. It’s not like I have the time, but all my protective urges are coming to the fore with how shaken Ally looks. I tell her dad bye and end the call.
“Ally,” she lifts her face towards me, and my heart clenches when I see tear-filled blue eyes. “Ah, babe, I’m sorry for frightening you. Can I hug you?”
With shaky hands, she wipes at her eyes, then nods.
Enfolding her in my arms, I hold her as she cries. “I’m sorry,” she whispers against my chest. “Not a great start to my first day, is it?”
Shrugging, I say, “Who the fuck cares? I don’t, and I’m the dipshit who forgot you were starting today. I’ve had my head up my arse a lot lately.”
Ally laughs and sniffs. “I heard. I’m sorry, Sam. We’re a right pair, huh?”
My heart skips a beat as I squeeze her a little tighter and reply, “Yeah, babe, we are. But I reckon you’re winning. I only got my heart broken, not stopped.”
“True,” she replies, nodding her head. “It’s a race I’d rather not be the winner of, though. The last year has sucked major donkey balls.”
Snorting out a laugh at her words, it wasn’t something that I’d ever have thought would come out of her mouth. Jeanie, yes, that girl has a mouth like a sailor, but Ally, she’s always been reserved and shy. I don’t think I’d once heard her swear, not that we’d spent much time together as she’d been younger than me.
“Come on,” I say, letting her go. “Take a seat and have some of this fucking amazing coffee that our new office manager made. I’m not sure what you did different, but it tastes so good.”
Ally laughs and sits in the chair I hold out for her. Handing her the kitchen roll to mop up her face, I hear the amusement in her voice when she says, “All I did was wash the pot and put a new filter in the water dispenser.”
“Huh,” I say, pouring her a mug and putting it on the table in front of her, “we have a water filter?”
Ally shakes her head at me, but she’s smiling. There’s colour in her cheeks again. She’s finally stopped shaking. Mission accomplished.
“I’m not sure you know what you’ve taken on,” I warn her. “Mum’s side is probably okay, but mine is a mess.”
“Oh, I know,” she tells me. “I came in last week when Dad upgraded the system for some training. I’ll fix it, though, and simplify a few things, so it won’t be so hard to keep on track. Do you need me to know anything in particular?”
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I decide I’ve got some time. If not, I’ll make it. “I tell you what. Let’s take our coffee and we can go through a few things.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she agrees, standing and turning to walk away from me.
I’m once again struck by her perfect arse, “Jesus, Sam,” I mutter, closing my eyes. “Not the girl, not the time.”
