Accidentally in Love, page 21
She had painstakingly planned their outfits for the day, but she hadn’t even considered what she would be wearing that night.
Dana looked at Cassie, who nodded and looked at Kit, who took Sam’s hand.
“To the Glam Zone, darling,” Kit said, gently pulling her toward the tall chairs usually reserved for clients getting their hair and makeup done.
“What are you doing?” Sam questioned, more alarmed that all three of them were now standing behind her and peering at her in the mirror. “You can’t put any makeup on me or do my hair now. It’ll all be ruined at the fest.”
“You’re absolutely right, but we can prep your skin and make sure we have a game plan for the small window of time you have between the end of vendor hours and the start of your dinner with Russ,” Cassie explained. “Let’s talk face.”
“Right on,” Kit replied, using an American colloquialism that sounded hilarious with her posh British accent. “I think fresh-faced, mostly matte, highlighter on the high points. Lots of waterproof mascara and a lip gloss that’s essentially the same color as her lips but shiny. Also, reapply this sunscreen throughout the day. We all should.” Kit handed out travel-size bottles of sun protection.
“Nothing sticky on the lips, though,” Sam said, still wary of why they were all standing behind her and staring into the mirror. “I’ll be eating.”
“Or making out, but that’s neither here nor there,” Dana said, laughing at her own quip. “For hair, I’m thinking either a messy bun or, if Kit braids it again, take those out and have loose waves. And part your hair on the side like you did at the artist mixer, because that was a seriously hot look, especially when you tucked your hair behind your ear and it fell out. He’s going to love that.”
“Why? It’s actually really annoying because it’s a layer that’s not quite long enough to stay tucked behind my ear.”
“It’s a secret weapon,” Kit said. Her smile slowly spread across her lips as she talked about her craft. “I cut that layer exactly so, because it falls from behind the ear, and if one is so inclined, one might be compelled to tuck said hair behind one’s ear on the other’s behalf.”
“What?” Sam did not understand what her enthusiastic roommate was trying to get at.
“Russ will see that hair fall out and will tuck it behind your ear for you,” Cassie explained, moving to show Sam what Kit was saying. She came close to Sam and gently took that pesky layer and tucked it behind Sam’s ear. It fell out again, so Cassie did it again, but this time moved a little closer to Sam. Suddenly Sam understood what they meant—how close Russ would get to her, how compelled he would feel to touch her . . . Sam raised her eyebrows and nodded approvingly. Who knew haircuts could have such delicious ulterior motives?
“But this outfit . . . Sam, it’s uninspired. Obviously, you don’t want to wear something frivolous and over-the-top, but you do want to look like you made some sort of an effort,” Dana said. Sam frowned because she didn’t necessarily agree with Dana’s assessment, but she went along with it. “Inspired by the ‘baby Sam’ who was in here earlier . . . what about a black T-shirt dress? And underneath, those new lace-trimmed bike shorts I was telling you about. The sample I was sent was too small for me, but I bet they’d fit you.”
“Perfect—it’s just Sam’s style, with her trusty boots.” Cassie agreed with a chef’s kiss.
“Now let’s figure out the most important part of tonight’s ensemble,” Kit said, grabbing a spare makeup bag and filling it with sample-sized products. “Lingerie.”
“All right, I think we’re done here,” Sam said, trying to stand up. But she found herself promptly plopped back down. “You don’t need to tell me what kind of underpants to wear.”
Dana twirled away from them to pick up a small pink paper bag she’d brought. “Not even if I told you I received prototypes of my new Luscious Lingerie line, and they just so happen to be in your size?” Dana’s work with Luscious Lingerie, a brand that prided itself in its devotion to body positivity and regularly worked with models and influencers who shared the same values, was seriously sexy to look at, and, having worn their less risqué pieces for the last year or so, Sam knew they were supportive where she now needed them to be and still looked cute.
“Did you order them in my size on purpose, or did they just so happen to come that way?”
“Don’t you worry about that,” Dana said, a devious grin now plastered on her face. “Thoughts on this set?” She held up a sheer black demi-cup bra that would make Sam’s tits look like they were being served on a platter and matching high-waisted mesh underpants that looked lovely but left little to the imagination. Which, Sam knew, Dana would explain was exactly the point.
“It also comes in neon pink, but we assumed this would be your preferred option,” Cassie said. How long had they been planning this intervention?
“While I appreciate your devotion to my date night look, I am going to figure out what I want to wear on my own. I’ll find something from storage for a top, but I’m wearing these jeans because I like them. I also know the studio inventory better than any of you, and I have my eye set on a pair of simple heels that are easy to walk in.” She looked at each of them in the mirror, all of their faces falling. “I just want to do this myself.”
For Russ.
“All right, sweet friend, we just wanted to help,” Kit said, defusing the situation with her singsong voice. It was a tactic Sam had come to expect whenever things got heated.
“How are things going with Russ, anyway, Sam? Last I heard, you two were sparring after the mixer,” Cassie asked as she walked toward her desk.
“He came to her defense against little old me,” Kit replied instead of Sam. She had moved away from the seat Sam was in and went over to her small standing desk nearby. “Rather harshly, might I add.”
“I think it’s sweet. He meant well, or at least that’s what I assume,” Dana said with a shrug.
“Maybe don’t make assumptions,” Sam blurted out, bringing the conversation to a halt. She didn’t even know why she’d said it so forcefully. Dana and Cassie had left the bar by the time she and Russ had their argument, so they were only going by what Kit knew, and she was on the receiving end of a talking down from both Sam and Russ that night. So, who knew what sort of warped sense of that evening’s events she had?
“Sam, I don’t know what to say to that,” Dana said, dropping the lingerie back into the bag. “In fact, I barely know what to say to you at all anymore.”
“D, don’t start, not before the fest,” Cassie said. Sam noticed the way she opened her eyes wide toward Dana, as though she was silently pleading.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam asked. Suddenly the spacious loft felt like a cramped closet with no air flow. It also felt like, once again, everyone was chatting about Sam without her input.
“It means, my pet, of course now we know how stressed you’ve been at work with all of your added duties. But we just don’t know how to approach you lately. About anything,” Kit explained.
Okay, so maybe a friendship intervention wasn’t ideal before a long day of telling hipsters in Wicker Park how to operate a photobooth in a bus. But they had started the conversation, so now they should finish it.
“I’ve had a lot going on,” Sam said, admitting this as much to herself as she was to her friends. She fiddled with her fingers, looking down at her hands in her lap.
“We know, Sam,” said Cassie, who had walked back to the Glam Zone and rested a comforting hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I kept piling work on you—that’s on me depending too much on you and getting so used to having you complete every single task without any issues. But real talk: Are you happy right now?”
Sam opened her mouth and took in a breath to speak, but it came out as a sigh. “I’m not . . . unhappy.”
“It’s hard to tell otherwise,” Dana said, not quite under her breath. “Kid, you’ve been through the ringer in the last six months. Going on thyroid medication that made your hormones go haywire, your dad’s heart attack . . .”
“Not to mention your parents got together,” Kit added. “And you have an insufferable roommate who bakes too much and wants to make you dance around and take off your clothes.”
Sam got up and went over to Kit, who had moved to one of the plush chairs next to the Glam Zone. Standing there with her friends, in the workplace she loved, Sam finally opened up.
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry to everyone. I don’t like asking for help, but I should have told you all I was overwhelmed and confused and upset. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you couldn’t approach me or talk to me. And I know everyone has stressful stuff going on, so maybe I just kept all my shit to myself.” Thinking about how much work Cassie was doing in addition to what she did at BB, Dana making a major life move, and Kit’s work at the studio, with local bridal shops, and providing makeup and hair for Cassie’s freelance photo shoots as well, Sam knew they were all working at the limit. And they had the photobooth bus, which was only bringing in more interest to Buxom Boudoir.
“Well, we found Baby Sam to assist you, and we’re always here for a proper vent session about your parents and whoever else you need to bitch about,” Cassie said while she readjusted her messy bun in one of the mirrors.
“You know, if it was me in this situation of being hired somewhere where there was already an established rapport between employees, I’d really hate if people called me a baby,” Sam said, putting her hands on her hips.
Cassie sized her up and put her hands on her own hips, popping one out, showing Sam up with sass. “I know, but I’m the boss, and I’m going to call her what I want. Just like I call you Sammy.”
“Awwww, Sammy-Sam!” They all laughed at Dana’s voice carrying over from behind the privacy screen where she was changing.
“So, what else can we solve today?” Cassie asked, going to grab her own romper and change.
“I have an idea, actually,” said Kit, finally looking up from her phone. “I know you don’t want to dance burlesque for the time being, but I had suggested a while back that we all take a Broadway dance class together.”
Sam had forgotten her caveat for taking the dance class with Kit was that Dana and Cassie had to attend, too. Now that it was suggested during a “figure out Sam’s weird mood swings” intervention, she knew Kit would easily convince them all to go.
“Any reason to belt out show tunes and not be yelled at to pipe down, I’ll be there with jazz hands at the ready,” said Dana walking toward them, shimmying and wiggling her fingers.
“It can be a team-building activity—BB will cover the fees,” Cassie called out from the changing station where Dana had just been. “Now, let’s move on to the final thing to help our Sam.”
“I apologized, I listened, and I agreed to learn the opening dance number to Oklahoma! or whatever,” Sam said, folding her arms across her chest. “What else do we have to deal with?”
“Oh, sweet Russell, of course,” Kit said, putting the back of her hand to her head, pretending to swoon. “He’s positively besotted.”
“Though I’m sure he’s also confused,” Cassie added. “After whatever shenanigans you two got up to in the photobus at the flea market, your hot and cold attitude has probably given the poor boy whiplash.”
“What happened on the bus? Is it clean?” Dana asked, waggling her eyebrows.
“Well, we agreed to have sort of a summer fling, but we dialed it back a bit after getting ahead of ourselves on the bus,” Sam said. She kept her arms folded to do something other than fidget. Aside from brushing off the teasing about what was going on between her and Russ, Sam really hadn’t told anyone too much of what was—or wasn’t—developing. “And yes, I’m going on a date at his place tonight after the festival. Which we need to leave for in twenty minutes.”
“Hang on a tick,” Kit said, sitting up straight. “What do you mean by ‘sort of a summer fling’?”
“Oh yes, we definitely need to know more about this.” Cassie emerged from behind the partition in her decked-out romper. “If you’re having a summer fling, you need to get to it, then.”
“The summer’s almost over,” Dana said with a yawn.
Everything Sam’s friends were saying made sense. This so-called fling hadn’t gone further than one hot-and-heavy make-out session that had been thwarted by a nosy brother and an even nosier boss. Dana was right, though. The summer was winding down just as quickly as it had started, and Sam knew she and Russ had a deadline.
“Well, with everything going on—work, my parents, my thyroid, and busybody friends—I haven’t figured out how to make this fling get going. I’m in over my head,” Sam said, picking at her nails instead of looking at her best friends in the world. They’d gone quiet, and Sam knew that only meant one thing—they were taking her seriously and trying to be thoughtful about their responses. “I’m nervous, and I think he might be, too. We’re heading in the right direction; it’s just taking longer than anticipated.”
Attempting to put the lid on the conversation of her nonexistent love and sex life, Sam went to her desk, got her fest outfit, and went to the bathroom to change and find a moment’s peace. Judging by the looks that passed between her friends as she walked by, Sam knew they would talk about her once the door was closed. Sure, that was annoying, but she also knew, after their gentle but impactful intervention on her mood and state of mind, that they meant well.
Sam’s search for solace was short-lived, however, because just as she was stepping into her Scout uniform, her phone dinged with a text notification from her discarded jeans pocket.
MOM
Hey you! It’s been a while. Have a minute to chat?
Sam’s shoulders deflated. Could she not have a minute to herself and change without interruption?
SAM
Hi, Mom! About to start a busy day at a fest. I’m good. How are you?
The blinking ellipses immediately popped up, but Sam tossed her phone on her pile of clothes and finished buttoning her romper. A new notification rang out.
MOM
Hope you have fun! Tell the BBs I say hello. I do want to talk to you soon though . . .
SAM
I’m going out later, maybe tomorrow?
MOM
With who?!!!??!
With RUSS?????? The complicated one?
Tell ME!!!
SAM
Sam knew if her mom had been there with her, Claire would roll her eyes and wouldn’t let go of the subject. She also knew her mom wasn’t going to let this conversation end with Sam’s favorite emoji as a final response.
She gathered up her clothes and perched against the vanity next to the sink, trying to figure out how much she wanted to divulge to her mom.
SAM
He’s making me dinner.
MOM
I like a man who cooks!!
SAM
Me, too.
Sam smacked her forehead. She did not mean to actually send that last message. Even if it was true.
MOM
Awww, Sammy! I’m so happy for you. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Just don’t . . . wait, like your dad and I did.
Huh. What did she mean by wait? Sam stared at her phone, hoping her mom would say something else, something more. But when nothing else came through, Sam responded . . . otherwise she’d be waiting in the BB bathroom until well after the fest.
SAM
OK, I’ll call when I can.
MOM
TTYL, xoxo
Sam slipped her phone into the wonderfully deep pocket of her outfit, wondering what her mom could have meant in her text. But with a busy day ahead, she put her pondering aside, rolled up her sleeves, and pushed open the bathroom door.
When she looked up, she saw three grown women dressed up like Boy Scouts. One coquettish, one vampy, and one unabashedly cool—Sam loved how one simple outfit could be so different on her three friends, each with their own quirks, strengths, and distinct personalities. But standing across from them and seeing the very determined looks on all their faces was slightly terrifying.
“Yes?” Sam said, bracing herself for some new thing she’d have to contend with that day.
“We want you to know, we think you should go for it,” Cassie said, giving Sam a thumbs-up.
“Go for what, exactly?”
“The metaphorical gold . . . or is it goal? I don’t like sport,” Kit said.
“And I don’t follow.”
“You’ve had a crazy few months, Russ is leaving soon, and we’re bored,” Dana said, putting both of her hands on Sam’s shoulders, jostling her around. “Get. Some.”
“Okay, stop shaking me,” Sam said, breaking free of Dana’s grasp. “Are you telling me to have casual sex?”
“Yes!” they shouted in unison.
“Though will it be all that casual? It’s Russ. You’ve been dallying around with him for months,” Kit said.
“Like I said, we’re bored, Sam. We need something to get excited about,” Dana said. “I’m about to become a suburban housewife, Cassie’s getting married soon, and Kit will never settle down.”
“Hey, I might. Someday. But why limit one’s self?” Kit said, looking very smug. “I mean, unless you want to, Sam, and we all know how much the two of you are into each other. It has become quite pedantic.”
