*****
Chapter 8
Kara pulled the heavy wooden door of the restaurant manager’s office closed behind her and leaned against it with a heavy, broken sigh. It was her eleventh interview in the last ten days, all of which had been a complete waste of time, and this one hadn’t gone any better. No one wanted to hire a student who was only a few months away from graduation. No restaurant wanted a waitress who was likely to leave within six months for a position in her chosen profession. While Kara couldn’t blame the prospective employers for their judgment, she really needed a freaking job.
The familiar sounds of clanging dishes, barking cooks and sharp-tongued servers filtered through her mind as she took yet another walk of shame through the back halls of another restaurant that wasn’t willing to take her on as even a part-time employee.
Okay, it wasn’t as if she would starve. She still had ten grand in her bank account, the loan she had given herself from Simon. Biting her lip as the pain of thinking about him crashed over her, she exited the main door of the restaurant, letting herself lean against the cool brick exterior to gather her thoughts after the disastrous interview.
Actually, she had more than ten thousand dollars in her account. Nine days ago, on her own birthday, Simon had sent several delivery men and a messenger to Maddie’s home with all of the items that she had left behind. The delivery guys had been loaded with her belongings, all of which had been purchased by Simon, and the messenger came bearing several dozen red roses and an envelope with a note.
Kara,
I am returning your check. Please accept the money as a birthday present from me and don’t fight with the delivery people. They have been instructed to put the items wherever you want them or leave them on the doorstep. As they work for me, they will follow instructions.
I’m sorry about what happened with Sam. Please come home.
Happy Birthday. I wish we could spend it together.
Yours,
Simon
Kara choked back a sob and rubbed unconsciously at her upper thigh, feeling the stiff paper of his note that was resting in her front pocket.
I’m going to have to talk to him.
Kara had hoped that giving herself a little time might help her feel more grounded, less mired in depression. But it wasn’t working. Every day she didn’t see Simon seemed like an eternity, and she was just fooling herself if she thought that a week or two would help her get over her longing for him. If anything, she sank deeper into the darkness as each day passed.
I have to talk to him. Make him take my check. Work out terms to repay what I borrowed. Return the things he bought.
She had bawled like a baby when she had turned on the laptop he had given her and realized that Simon had downloaded every game that she had ever played on his computer lab. Myth World - both games - had been first on the list.
Wiping furiously at an escaped tear rolling down her cheek, Kara knew she had to stop mooning over Simon Hudson, she just wasn’t sure how to do it. The silly, thoughtful things that he did, such as taking the time to download all of those games, tugged at her heart. Then, she would remember the sight of the blonde supermodel on Sam’s porch pulling Simon’s lips to hers and she’d be pissed all over again. How could any man be so thoughtful, yet be such a dog when it came to women?
“Hello, Kara.” A deep, rumbling voice sounded right next to her. Her eyes jerked up to discover Sam Hudson leaning a shoulder against the wall next to her. Instinctively, she backed up several steps, putting distance between her and a man she didn’t like or trust.
Sam advanced, but left space between the two of them. “What do you want?” Her tone was sharp and she put her hand up to stop him from coming any closer.
He raised his eyebrow at her defensive move. “I just want to talk.” He looked as arrogant as he had at the party, even dressed in casual jeans and a black t-shirt, but there was a thread of remorse running through his words, and his green eyes were clear and bright. “Please.” That addition actually sounded painful coming from Sam, as though he had to force it from his throat.
“I don’t know you and I have nothing to say.” She snipped at him, eager to get away. The last thing she wanted was to chat with Sam Hudson.
“I’m not going away until you talk to me, so you might as well do it now.”
Kara wanted to stomp her foot in frustration, but she wouldn’t give Sam the satisfaction. “Just say whatever it is you have to say and leave.”
He motioned toward the restaurant door. “I could use a cup of coffee. It’s been a long day.”
She shook her head. “I just interviewed there. I really don’t want to go back in there.”
He waved to the eatery across the street. “We can go there.”
Rolling her eyes, she answered, “Been there, done that one, too. There isn’t a place in this neighborhood where I haven’t interviewed.”
Taking her arm lightly, Sam led her into the fast food place next door. She jerked her arm out of his hold, but followed behind him. It was obvious that she needed to let him have his say or he wouldn’t leave her alone. He had the same stubborn, Hudson male look that Simon got whenever he wasn’t going to budge until she relented or compromised.
They both ordered a coffee from the front counter and Sam took a small booth in the corner. She stalled, loading her coffee at a side table with cream and sugar before joining him. Fingering the disposable cup, she finally looked up to find Sam watching her with intensity of a hawk ready to swoop down on its prey. Squirming and uncomfortable, she still refused to look away. Sam’s gaze wasn’t sexual. It was as though he was trying to examine a perplexing microbe underneath a magnifying glass. If he wanted to do some intensive search of her personality…so be it. It wasn’t as if she had done anything wrong, except fall in love with Simon Hudson.
Interestingly enough, Sam caved in first. “I’m sorry.” He diverted his eyes as he muttered the statement. It was sincere, but she could tell it wasn’t something this man said very often. “That was a shitty thing I did at Simon’s birthday party. I was so drunk I could barely stand, but that isn’t an excuse. A man needs to be responsible for his actions, drunk or not.”
“Why did you do it? Why are you doing this? Did Helen send you to apologize? I didn’t mention a word about what you did. I’m not sure how she would know.” Kara had only spoken to Helen once, and she hadn’t mentioned Sam’s appalling behavior that night to his mother.