Page 7 of Denying Davis
I hadn’t seen her in ten years, but Iknewher. Would have recognized her anywhere. And the reality that she was there as part of the catering staff of the Philipps Estate, at the wedding reception of Trevor McNamara and Ainsley Ross, took my breath away.
I didn’t normally have this kind of luck.
“Never—never mind about the drink,” I told the bartender, barely giving him a glance. I wasn’t thirsty anymore or hungry, either. I wasn’t much of anything.
Just focused. On her.
I shoved my hands in my trouser pockets and made my way closer. My heart quickened as I approached, and beads of sweat formed on my brow. I didn’t know the people who stood around this woman, taking appetizers off her tray and laughing as they chatted, but that didn’t matter to me.
All that mattered washer.
When I got within a foot, I spoke. “Samantha?”
She jumped.
I added, “Is that you?”
She whirled in my direction as I finished the last question. “Yes.” The color drained from her cheeks. “Trey? I mean…Davis? No, um…Mr. Armstrong?” She swallowed. “Nice to see you again.”
By the time she said the last sentence, she’d suppressed her surprise, and her voice sounded flat, emotionless. I, on the other hand, could have told you the location of every cell in my body. People hadn’t called me Trey in years, and the sound of my old nickname on her lips was intoxicating.
“How are you?” I asked.
“Fine. Just fine.”
Her cold, clinical response wasn’t how I expected her to react to me, but I decided it must have been the venue that caused her to do that, and that she was an employee, not a guest.
“It’s been a long time,” I managed. Then I lowered my voice. “Not that I’ve forgotten the last moment I saw you.”
“What? The…I mean, excuse me.” She cleared her throat, arched her eyebrow, and turned her silver tray toward me. “Would you like another piece of shrimp, Mr. Armstrong?”
“Already had too many. And it’s Davis, Sam. You know that. Or you can call me Trey if you want, even though no one does any more. But you’ve never called me Mr. Armstrong.Ever.”
“Regardless”—she moved the appetizers toward me—“I think you should reconsider having another.”
“No. Trying to limit myself to just one.”
“Well, I can admit, they are addictive,” she said, adding a large, plastic smile that showed off straight teeth and highlighted her rosebud lips. She acted as if this was all a script she needed to follow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to refill this.”
She moved past me, and panic flooded my body. I didn’t want Sam to leave, not yet, and more than that, I didn’t want her to walk away from me after all this time. She was treating me as someone she hardly knew, and I didn’t know why, but I had to find out.
Had to.
“Wait.” I caught her arm with my hand. “Don’t leave yet.”
She looked down at my hand as if it was an alien life form then stepped away. “I need to get back to the catering kitchen, Mr. Armstrong.”
“Mr. Armstrong? Again?” My hand fell to my side. “Why do you insist on calling me that?”
“That’s your name, isn’t it?” She glanced in the direction of the beaux-arts mansion that made up the bulk of the estate. “I need to get back. This is my job. I have responsibilities.”
“I know but…” I struggled to find something to say as my mind raced. My past had just collided with my present, and I could have sworn it kicked my world off its axis. This was the one woman—one person—from my past who wasn’t part of the script, part of the expectations, part of the game I had to play by virtue of being an Armstrong.She can’t leave now. Not when…“I just can’t believe I’m seeing you again. I didn’t realize you were still in South Florida.” A flush pulsed through me. “You’d…you disappeared. Vanished.”
She laughed without humor. “I wouldn’t call it that.”
“Then what would you call it?”
My memories flipped to the last night I saw her, on the slip of private beachfront my grandfather owned on the north end of the island. I remembered the way her hand felt when I slipped it into mine and the kiss we shared after finding the Aries constellation in the night sky above us. Her lips had been soft and tentative, but there was warmth in the moment, and a feeling of coming home I hadn’t felt with anyone else.
