The Magnolia Chronicles: Adventures in Modern Dating(71)
Sam considered this for a moment before saying, "All right." He sanded his palms together and dropped down beside me. "It's nice back here."
"Oh my god, just shut up," I whisper-hissed. "What are you doing? Why are you here? Can you please go back inside or wherever it was you came from?"
He let out a gentle chuckle as he folded his arms on his bent knees. "Lauren and Matt are arguing about something irrelevant. Andy is in the attic but don't ask me why. Shannon is yelling at walls and Tiel is trying to rein her in. Will and Patrick are building something. God only knows what. Riley and Alex aren't here yet. Not surprising. I think Nick and Erin are headed here but I haven't seen them yet. Or they're hiding somewhere."
"Which leaves you…" My voice trailed off as I rolled my hand in his direction, expecting further explanation. "Stalking me in the bushes?"
"Tiel told me about your—uh—"
"Don't try," I interrupted, holding up a hand. "She told you I'm seeing two guys. Right? And I was bringing them today? That's what she said?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah. Basically."
I couldn't stop myself from saying, "You two tell each other everything."
He nodded again, an affectionate smile pulling at his lips. "Pretty much."
He really loved that woman. Really fucking loved her. You could see it radiating off him like steam rising from the road after a summer rainstorm.
"And that's why you came looking for me?" I asked.
He glanced up at me with a quick shake of his head. "No. No, I was trying to avoid Matt and Lauren's argument about sponges and silverware and other tragedies." Another headshake. "I just wanted to avoid all of that."
"You decided talking to me was the way to avoid another tragedy? I suppose there's a first time for everything."
He shifted then, meeting my gaze and holding it. "I saw the work you did on that Louisburg Square project with Matt. It was incredible."
With an eyebrow arched and more skepticism than I knew I possessed, I replied, "Thanks?"
"And your design for the North End project Riley and Andy are handling, it's flawless."
"Mmhmm." All skepticism.
Sam and I hadn't talked business in years. Actual years. We stopped collaborating after I climbed into the handbasket and drove our professional relationship straight to hell. I did a ton of work with his family's firm and I had brunch with his wife most weekends and we saw plenty of each other, but we saw each other in the way Saturn sees the sun: distant, aware of one another but only in presence, never getting closer than that comfortable orbit and barely above freezing.
"And then the Bay Village job you're doing with Patrick is—well, it's fascinating," he continued. "I wasn't sure how it would work out but you had five brilliant solutions ready to go."
"I'm going to stop you right there because why the fuck are you telling me this, Sam? Seriously, what's the point? I don't have a punch card and I'm not working toward a free frozen yogurt here so why are you rubber-stamping my recent work?"
He held up his hands. Let them fall. Blew out a sigh. Dug his sneakered heels into the dirt. Then, "Because I hate that you won't work with me anymore. Patrick, Matt, Riley, Andy—they all work with you and can't stop talking about your amazing designs and I'm stuck trolling every greenhouse and garden center for a landscape architect who has ideas on xeriscaping in zone six." He pointed at me, all jabby and rude. "I found you at that spec home showing and I was the one who convinced them you and your roof gardens were awesome and then I fucked everything up and I don't even get to talk to you about those roof gardens anymore."
"That's right," I said, touching my fingertips to my lips. "You did this."
He gave me a sharp, wide-eyed glare. "Yeah. I know." He snickered. "I partnered with a fucking fool a few months ago. An idiot who didn't know how to design for city rooftops but said he did. I'm honestly surprised I didn't give myself an aneurysm dealing with that shit."
"Because you don't get to talk to me anymore," I said, staring ahead. Ben and Rob stood in my line of sight but I couldn't see them. Just their shapes, their gestures. Always with the gestures. And those damn forearms. All right, I could see those. But not much else beyond the tidal wave of shock from this conversation.
"Can I fix that?" Sam asked. "Can I change it? Because it's been years and I'm happily married." He wiggled his wedding band at me. "And you're here with two men and that's gotta be serious because they're helping people move. People they don't even know. Moving is the highest level favor in the echelon of favors. I have to believe we're both in places where the mistakes of the past are ancient history, and we can work on some gardens again. Listen to me, Gigi, I cannot have Patrick walking around with better landscape designs than me. I can't do it. And dammit, I miss working with you. You're talented and you don't get enough attention for it and my work has suffered from not having you as a collaborator."
"Mmhmm," I managed. I continued watching Ben and Rob as tears clouded my eyes.
Why was I watching them? Why was I here, lingering in the shadow cast by the home and the earthy comfort of the dirt and green? Why didn't I approach Rob and Ben when I first saw them?