Page 7 of The Spirit of Love
Chapter Four
“I’ll make cocktails, you make yourself comfortable,” Sam says, nodding over my shoulder. “The bathroom’s there.”
He presses a thick terry-cloth towel and a stack of folded clean clothes into the crook of my arm, then turns away from me and tosses two logs on the fire. A glorious gush of heat fills the cabin.
Why do people ever camp?
I close myself in the bathroom and gaze into the mirror. Gorgeous? Hah. I look like the cosmos gave me a swirlie. I try to smooth my wet hair, finger-combing the chaos. My face is bare and pale, and my lips are purplish blue.
But Sam did say the word, no less than four times.
The most I could get out of my ex, even on date night when I was really trying, was a tossed-off, thoughtless hot .
Sam and I are still basically strangers, but the dynamic between us has definitely shifted ever since…
well, since he carried me up a cliff. I’d felt something in his arms. Is this standard S it was something closer to regret.
Because I’d like to experience his grilled fish, but tomorrow, once this storm blows over, we’ll go our separate ways.
We’re only here tonight because of the most bizarre series of events.
“But yeah,” Sam continues, “everything else in the kitchen, I’m hopeless at. I burn toast, wreck mac and cheese. I’m also somehow terrible at making tea, so it’s a good thing you wanted something stronger.”
He has a way of saying things so earnestly they sound like sarcasm, but I’m starting to see that they’re not.
I’ve never met anyone so naturally open.
It’s like he doesn’t know another way to be.
I think of myself as someone who tells the truth when I speak.
But so often, I choose not to speak, to keep the things I mean inside.
Sam doesn’t seem to have that reflex. We’re definitely from two very different worlds. I wonder if working in Hollywood has made it harder for me to speak the truth to others.
Sam raises a mug toward mine.
“Cheers,” he says.
“What’s in your glass?” I ask.
“It’s called a Phoebe Snow,” Sam says. “Dubonnet, brandy, and absinthe, strained over cracked ice.”
“Someone needs to get you your own HGTV show.”
“I don’t know what that is,” he says, shaking his head.
“No one does.”
“Tell me, Fenny,” Sam says. “What were you so busy working on at the beach that you didn’t want me to save your life?”
By way of answering, I deliver Zombie Hospital character Dr. Josslyn Munro’s world-famous tagline: “The Hippocratic oath applies to zombies, too.”
Sam blinks, clearly having no idea what I’m talking about.
I stare at him, sure he’s messing with me. “Seriously?” I ask. “ Zombie Hospital ? You’ve never…”
More blinking. Sam clears his throat. “I’m sorry, I’m trying to stay with you, but…”
“It’s a big hit television show,” I say. “A juggernaut.”
“That explains it,” he drawls. “I haven’t had a TV in a while. Too hard to hook up cable or internet out here. But I don’t mind. There’s plenty to watch and think about. So, that’s your job? You work on a TV show about zombies?”
I nod. “Zombies are life.”
“And what exactly do you do?”
“I’m a…” I pause here, searching for the right word. There’s the one that’s described my profession for the past seven years, and the one that describes my profession starting on Monday. “I’m a director.”
“ Director ?” Sam says. The light in his eyes is unexpectedly satisfying.
Like even though he’s never seen the show, he gets what this means.
Not only that, he seems excited on my behalf.
He lifts his mug and says, “Congratulations! Wow. I would love to hear what that’s like.
When I was a kid, I used to think, someday…
” He lifts a shoulder, looks around the cabin.
“Nah. Maybe in another life. I’m still barely getting started here at Search and Rescue. ”
“To tell you the truth,” I say, “my first shoot is on Monday. Until now, I’ve been working as a writer on the show.
So, I guess we’re both on the brink of doing what we always wanted.
” I meet his eyes, as warm as the fire beside us.
“When you came along and saved my life,” I grant him and he smiles, “I was trying to get my thoughts together for Monday’s shoot. ”
“Are you shooting here?” His eyes light up. “On the island?”
“No, back in LA on a soundstage. I just came here to clear my head. Though this would be a stunning place to shoot something. Someday.”