The Right Swipe (Modern Love, #1)(57)

The house he’d grown up in Cayucos had been a homey environment with bright splashes of color and comfy furnishings. When he’d become independent, he’d barely paid attention to where he lived, figuring he could have a real home at some shadowy point down the road. And, then, of course, he’d been with Uncle Joe.

Samson frowned out over the buildings. Where would his next place be? He’d sold his own condo years ago and had no interest in returning to Portland anyway. His childhood home in Cayucos was sitting vacant, but it held so many memories. Leaving there after Uncle Joe’s death had been both heart wrenching and a relief.

Trapped and aimless.

He shifted. He still had time to think about his next move after this gig was over. He didn’t have to come up with it right now.

His day was packed with various Matchmaker-related engagements, including a photo shoot. He needed to get showered and dressed, but he took another sip of coffee, wishing he could inject the caffeine directly into his veins. He’d stayed up all night thinking about Rhiannon and the sex. And the aftermath.

He’d been looking forward to smushing her all night when he’d sauntered out of the bathroom, his body all loose and relaxed, and instead, he’d found her almost out the door. He didn’t know what had made her dart out like that. Or really, what had made her come to him in the first place. Surely she hadn’t really run over to make sure he did what he’d already said he’d do and contact Belle, right?

He should have pressed her before she left, but he’d been too thrown by the sex. And his own internal upheaval.

He never talked about his parents. The only people in the world he’d confided in had been Uncle Joe, Aunt Belle, and Dean and Harris. Though he knew Rhi wouldn’t tell anyone, he was shaken by how easily the details of his life had spilled out of his lips.

At first, he’d stayed silent because his father wouldn’t have wanted too much about his final years made public. Everyone knew about the depression, yes, and some of Aleki’s erratic behavior. The anger, though, he and his mother had kept under wraps, had shielded the world from. Flying into uncontrollable rages was the thing his father would have found most horrifying about his personality change. Aleki had been gentle. He’d never so much as raised his voice before the Switch.

Samson’s hand shook as he took another sip of coffee. He was a fucking thirty-six-year-old man, bigger than average, and the mere memory of his father’s rage made him shake like a boy. How did a person reconcile the man they’d loved with a man who was controlled by a brain that had been fundamentally altered by hit after hit? How did you reconcile adoration and fear? Fear for his dad, his mom, himself.

How do you think Trevor’s son’s feeling?

He had to put his mug down, lest he spill it. He may have initially hidden his history for his father’s sake, but it was also simply too difficult for him to think about, let alone share with another human.

He’d go shower, and get dressed, and try to forget all these feelings Trevor and Rhi had stirred up. He couldn’t handle them, not right now.

His phone rang, and he welcomed the interruption to his trip down memory lane. He grabbed it, relief coursing through him when he saw who was calling. “Aunt Belle.”

“Hello, Samson.”

He frowned. Aunt Belle sounded like a timid, hesitant version of herself. “Hey there. I was talking about you with someone yesterday. Are you stateside again?”

“I am. I got in last night.”

“Are you up north?” Belle’s main estate was a lovely home near San Francisco, surrounded by tall redwoods.

“Yes.” She paused, then spoke in a rush. “If you’re mad at me, can you get it all out?”

“Mad at you?” Samson sat down on his couch. “Why on earth would I be mad at you?”

“Because I left everyone in the lurch.” His aunt’s tone grew thick. “I called William first, and he told me . . . well, it doesn’t matter what he told me.”

Samson’s frown deepened. It wasn’t William’s place to chide his boss. Jennifer may have been the former CEO, but Annabelle controlled the company now. “You didn’t leave me in the lurch.”

“Well. I suppose I should have thought before I got overwhelmed and ran away, especially when the company isn’t having its best year. I was in fairly constant contact with Tina, but not as much as I should have been. Not as much as Jennifer would have been.”

“I think everything ran fine even with you gone for a few weeks,” Samson said soothingly. “I didn’t notice any hiccups.”

“I saw you changed the campaign. That was smart, after that mess of a date.”

The amusement in Aunt Belle’s voice was a relief. “I guess match percentages can’t promise perfect dates.”

“They can’t, but I will defend my test. I accessed your account and you didn’t have the highest match percentage with sweet Rachel.”

Samson shook his head. Joe had once privately told him Belle had made him take the damn test, in hard copy, before agreeing to go on a first date with him. What their match percentage had been, Samson didn’t know. As far as Samson was concerned, the infamous test was nothing more than a personality questionnaire.

“I found another girl in your matches who would work so much better. I asked Tina to set up a date with her for you this week.”