Page 34 of The Spare

Lexi

The silence in Luigi’s is almost palpable. It feels akin to a roar in my ears. All of the chatter, the clinking of glasses, and silverware against plates of Italian food has vanished.

All eyes are on me.

My pulse picks up as my palms begin to sweat. This is madness. I stare down at Sam. He’s on one knee, his expensive suit trousers pressing into the hard wood, looking up at me with an expression that seems alarmingly sincere. The princess-cut diamond in the little velvet box is breathtaking. A perfect gem that feels out of place in the messy, jagged history between us.

My first instinct is to laugh. My second is to walk out. But the one that keeps my feet anchored to the floor is a healer’s mantra. You can’t stabilize any situation without assessing the problem. And as tempting as this is to turn on my heel and head for the door, I need to hear him out.

I look at the roses. They’re ridiculously excessive. They’re exactly the kind of grand gesture I would expect Sam Lee to use. But looking more closely at his hands, I discover they aren’t steady. The man who could charm the habit off a nun is trembling, and his eyes aren’t on the ring.

They’re on me.

“Get up, Sam,” I whisper, the words barely making it past the lump in my throat. “You’re making a scene.”

“I don’t care about a scene,” he begs, his voice thick. “I care about you.”

Right. Since when?

“I doubt that. You haven’t given me a second thought in years, you deranged lunatic. You only care about my saying yes so it will make your problems go away,” I whisper. My gaze bounces around the restaurant. I find a waitress holding a plate of lasagna, frozen in place. I see a couple at the bar speaking in hushed tones.

My eyes connect with Luigi’s. He appears as shocked as everyone else here. As if he can sense my S.O.S., he nods in the direction of his office.

Reaching for Sam’s wrist, I ignore the expensive ring sparkling at me and tug him toward the back of the restaurant. Once we’re in a more private setting, I smack his forehead with the palm of my hand.

“Wow. What was that for?” he blurts.

“What do you think? You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

Rubbing concentric circles over his forehead with the fingertips of his free hand, he deposits the ridiculous bouquet of roses onto Luigi’s desk and turns to face me.

“Here, I thought you were drunk. Or sick… or dying of some awful illness that made you reconsider how you’ve treated me when you hurled your apologies on me at the club the other night. But no. You had an agenda all along. It was about as genuine as a politician on election day.” I shake my head, still mystified that I actually believed him.

“No, no, Lex. I was sincere. Honestly. With all the shit that has gone down with the vineyard… realizing my grandfather’s dreams are dying a slow death because of my recklessness… well, it makes you take stock of your life. Then I met with the lawyers and found out there was a way to save it. But every avenue I took led me to you.”

He looks at me with such hurt in his usual vivid, mischievous depths. Is this all a game to him? How do I trust a word he’s saying?

“You have absolutely no reason to trust me. I get it. But realizing how much I hurt the one woman who I wanted to ask to help me hit me like a ton of bricks. It has to be you. Please?”

My stomach suddenly feels as if the floor has dropped from beneath me. Like the tilt-a-whirl we’d ride at the State Fair. But this is no carnival ride. This is my life we’re talking about here.

Suddenly, I think about Dr. Howell. Him and all of the senior partners who constantly laugh about my nepotism as I spend my nights alone. Looking for meaning within Taylor Swift’s lyrics and finding comfort with fictional men between the pages of a book. But it’s not Taylor’s words that are on repeat. It’s Sam’s.

Just don’t let me do this with someone else.

If I say yes, I’m no longer the flighty girl waiting to be stood up. I am a wife. Someone’s partner. My heart rate picks up at the prospect. Until I consider the flip side. I’ll also be tied to the man who broke my heart.

The king who turned his back on his queen.

“I’m going to need to think about this, Sam. You’re asking a lot of someone you’ve beaten down for the better part of twenty years.” I look away so he doesn’t see how much that still hurts. “Why not ask one of your harem to step in? Someone you don’t hold such animosity toward. I’m sure there are any number of shallow women who’d have no problem giving up a year of their time for a sizeable windfall at the end. Even if they’re forced to spend it with you.” I sneer.

“I’ve met a woman who might be able to step in.” These words hurt more than they should. I mean, I’ve had years to get past feeling jealous. When will I learn he’s not worthy of my heart? He’s not the one. Remember that while he’s spinning this tempting web to get what he wants.

“But this situation is delicate. It needs to be a person who’s as committed to making this work as I am. Someone who loves and respects Sutter Creek and its past. Because if there are any slipups over the next year, my mother will be on it faster than a hawk on a field mouse.”

I scrunch my nose at the visual. Glancing away, my eyes land on a picture of Luigi and his wife, Maria. It’s a black-and-white photo of their wedding day. They’re looking at each other with such reverence. That’s what I wanted. To meet someone who’d look at me that way. Not ask for a year of fake wedded bliss in exchange for a payout. My face falls.

Sam moves in behind me. I turn to see his gaze taking in the same photo. I can only imagine he views it quite differently than I do. My eyes take in the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones, the bags under his eyes, and the heaviness in his usual shimmering blue irises.