The Stand-In(83)

Tomorrow I can worry about this.

Tonight, I’m going to dream about what I want. Eppy. A job. Freedom. Mom safe and happy.

And maybe a bit about kissing Sam.





Thirty-Two


Sam throws his tablet to the side and stretches on the couch where he’s ostensibly been reviewing scripts. For the last twenty minutes, he’s been shooting little glances in my direction as if hoping to casually catch me looking up from my laptop.

The last time I did, he’d smiled and I’d blown him an over-the-top kiss, which he had pretended to catch out of midair and tuck into his pocket. Then he’d gone back to work as if nothing had happened, ignoring me as I groaned.

He gets up and begins pacing. I wait until he’s made multiple circuits of the room but he doesn’t say a word.

“You’re going to wear a path into that floor,” I observe finally.

“Are you done working?”

“Do you have something more interesting for me to do?” I glance up and see the wicked expression on his face. “Never mind.”

He assumes a look of extreme innocence. “I was going to suggest a sedate game of cards but what did you have in mind?”

I roll my eyes and close my laptop. “You hate cards because you suck at them.”

“True. I was lying about playing cards.” He nods out the window. “What are those?”

“Toronto Islands.”

“Real islands?” Sam looks at them with new interest.

“Sand spits they dumped a bunch of landfill on to make bigger.” I join him. It’s raining so the islands look mysterious under a thin fog. I haven’t been over there in years.

“Where’s the bridge to drive over?”

“You take a ferry.” I point to a little ship chugging across the water. “There’s one.”

“A ferry?” He looks at it longingly.

“You like ferries?”

He turns to me with a face that expresses his disbelief that anyone could not. “Of course. When I was in Hong Kong, I always took the Star Ferry to cross the harbor.” He tugs at his ear. “My mother hated me doing that.”

He goes over to the fridge and pokes around before coming back empty-handed to stare out the window again. His eyes follow the ferry as he rocks back on his heels, lost in thought. Sam looks trapped in this fancy hotel room, and I want to take that blank expression from his face.

“Let’s go out on an adventure,” I say impulsively. “You and me.”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “I am somewhat frightened.”

“I’m hurt by your skepticism. All my ideas are good ideas.” He opens his mouth and I steamroll over him. “Get your things.”

“You want to go now? In the rain?” He acts like it’s acid falling from the sky.

“Are you a witch that you’ll melt if you get wet?” I move past him to open the balcony door and stick a hand out. “It’s barely spitting.”

“I might be seen.” I can hear the waver in his voice and want him to say yes. It would be fun to go out. On a date? It’s not a date. Is it? What constitutes a date anyway?

“In this weather?” I shakes my head. “I don’t think so. The islands are busy in the summer but less so in bad weather.”

“An adventure, huh?”

I slide the balcony door back shut. “It’ll be good, I promise.”

He mulls it over and then grins and gives me a light, quick kiss that makes me blink with surprise at how natural it feels. “It will, with you.”

Sam goes to get ready and I first press my fingers against my lips because, wow, kissing Sam never gets old. Then I wonder if I’m a complete dumbass to be dragging Sam out in the rain for an outdoor adventure when I could have suggested we have indoor ones.

Maybe later.

Finally, I check for the umbrella that must come with the room because I know rich people don’t have to remember to bring things like that when they travel. I only have one so I knock on Fangli’s door. Mei answers and waits for me to speak.

“Do you have any umbrellas?” I ask. “Sam and I are going on a date so I need two.”

Her face freezes. “Pardon?”

“Not a date,” I rush to explain. “A walk. It’s not a date-date. Do you think Fangli will be mad?” I can’t ask if she and Mei want to come because we can’t be together.

“Excuse me.”

She shuts the door in my face. I stand there, shocked. Mei is never rude. Cold, yes, even abrupt, but never rude. Then the door opens and Mei hands out an umbrella.

“Oh, thanks,” I say. “Uh, everything good?”

“Have a nice day.” This time she waits until I turn to shut the door.

I let it go—Mei is an eternal mystery to me—and go to meet Sam.

“Where are we going?” He takes the umbrella I hand him. I realize Sam doesn’t have many surprises in his life—everything is scheduled—and decide to make him wait to know.

“You’ll see.”

It’s a twenty-minute walk, and Sam badgers me about our destination the entire way, laughing when I give him increasingly silly locations.

“The elevator at the end of the world?” he repeats. “You just said it was the invisible shopping center.”