Heaven and Hell (19 page)

“Fuck,” he whispered back, his face
betraying his concern, the fingers on both hands giving me a
squeeze.

“Um… sorry,” we both heard and we both
turned our heads to see a man standing beside our table, looking
nervous, his eyes darting between Sam and me then finally coming to
rest in a way that it looked like he wished they didn’t on Sam. “I,
uh…” he went on, “don’t mean to disturb you and I know you hear
this all the time but I’m a really big fan.”

Holy cow!

A Sampson Cooper fan interrupting our
dinner.

Wow.

I stared up at him, fascinated.

That was to say, I stared at him fascinated
until I felt the fingers on both Sam’s hands give me another
squeeze, this one deeper, communicating something I wasn’t certain
I got until my eyes went to him. I saw his jaw was hard and I
tensed and stayed that way even when I watched his jaw relax. And I
stayed tense because it seemed this took effort, like he was
forcing back his reaction.

I looked back to the man as he continued
talking.

“I just, I see that you’re busy and… well, I
didn’t want to come over but my wife said this opportunity would
never present itself again. And, you know, she said it was crazy
since we live in Wisconsin but we’re here and you’re here so it’s
like… fate and I should, you know, not anger fate or, uh… whatever,
so I just want to say that I was a real big fan of yours when you
played ball but I admire the decision you made so I also, uh… want
to thank you for what you did for our country. You, I… well, my son
knows all about you and you’re kind of his idol. He’s seventeen and
he plays ball but he’s, you know, he’s okay at it, not great but
he’s pretty good. Still, he’s going into the Army, like your
brother did, like you did. He says that’s what he really wants to
do and we’re real proud of him but both of us, me and my wife, we
think that he made that decision because of you.” He paused then
finished, “Um… that’s it, uh… I guess.”

I felt for him, he was really nervous and
obviously wanted to be there just as obviously as he didn’t.

I looked back at Sam to see his eyes weren’t
on the man but looking across our table to something else. I
followed the direction of his gaze to see a heavyset woman with a
peculiar hairstyle, her upper face behind a camera which was aimed
our way, her lower face taken up with a mammoth smile.

“That your wife?” Sam’s voice asked and I
looked back at him then the man.

“Uh… yeah,” the man answered.

“Right,” Sam replied. “Let me pay my bill,
finish talkin’ to my woman and I’ll come over, Kia can take a photo
of you and your wife with me. Your boy’ll probably like that shot
better than whatever’s gonna come out of the ones your wife is
takin’ with her finger over the lens.”

The man’s head snapped toward his wife as
did my gaze and I stifled a giggle when I saw Sam was right. She
was still shooting away but her finger was totally right over the
lens.

“Oh… I…” the man started and I looked back
at him. Then he finished, “You’d do that?”

“Sure,” Sam replied, the man smiled huge and
my belly got warm.

“That would be… well, wonderful,” the man
whispered. “I’ll, uh, let you finish up then.”

“Great,” Sam said.

“Ma’am,” he said to me and dipped his
head.

I smiled at him.

He rushed back to his wife.

I looked at Sam who was watching him go with
an expression I couldn’t read and this was because his face was
carefully blank.

“That was nice of you,” I noted cautiously
and his eyes came to me.

Uh-oh.

His eyes were easily read. He was
pissed.

“You know,” he said quietly, his voice rough
with quelled anger, “I’d really like to know who wrote that fuckin’
book so I could hunt their ass down and rip their goddamned head
off.”

Oh man.

“Sam,” I whispered, squeezing his thigh.

“No joke, Kia. Honest to God, seriously? I’m
at a restaurant, wrapped around my woman, clearly havin’ an
important, private conversation and they think it’s okay, it’s
fuckin’ fate, for fuck’s sake, that they can interrupt us?”

“He was really nervous, honey.”

“Yeah, I’m not feelin’ this about him. He
didn’t wanna be there. I’m feelin’ it for her, who’s right now
takin’ photos of us, baby, still, but her finger is no longer over
the lens.”

I felt my eyes get big and I breathed,
“Really?”

“Uh… yeah.”

Oh man.

“Do you get that a lot?” I asked.

“Uh…
yeah,
” he answered.

Wow. I mean, I figured it happened and maybe
even a lot. I’d just not experienced it before and, although not
unpleasant, this was because it was a novelty to me. If it happened
all the time, it would get very old, especially when Sam was, as he
said, wrapped around me and we were having an important
conversation, something our position and body language said and it
was something no one could misread.

“Even if you were still playing ball –” I
started, trying to find some way to soothe him but he shook his
head.

“Tripled since I got outta the Army and that
book came out. It happened when I was playin’ ball, definitely. But
nowhere near as bad. By now, I’d be retired or lookin’ at it and
also lookin’ at a future where eventually that shit would fade and
become rare. I was good, people know me, they’d recognize the name,
but it wouldn’t be commonplace. Now, who knows? I just know it’s
been over a year since that book was published and it hasn’t died
down, not even a little bit.”

I was confused.

“So why did you say you’d have your photo
with them?”

“’Cause he wasn’t lyin’. His kid likes me
and his kid is goin’ in the Army and his kid could see and do some
serious shit because he admires me and wants to follow in my
footsteps. That’s a responsibility, honey. And his kid’s facin’
that and if he gets a kick outta havin’ a photo of his parents with
me, it takes five minutes of my time, I give it.”

Without my brain telling it to do so, my
hand lifted to cup his jaw and then I leaned into him and I found
myself touching my mouth to his before I started to pull back.

I didn’t get far. Sam’s hand at my waist
shot up, wrapped around the back of my neck and held me there.

I bit my lip and stared into his eyes which
were now a lot less angry.

And after our day, after how he’d been kind
to that man and why, I decided to share another secret.

“I like you, Sam Cooper, like a lot,” I
whispered. “You’re not a good man. You’re a
really
good
one.”

“Remember that, baby,” he returned
instantly. “That feelin’ you got about me right now, remember that
‘cause that’s what you get from me too and honest to God, whatever
this is and wherever this goes, I promise, that’s all you’ll get
from me.”

He held my eyes and I let him.

He was making a point, a point he’d made
with everything he’d said and everything he’d done since the very
second I met him.

A point, right then, I finally got.

Then I nodded.

Then he bent toward me and touched his mouth
to mine.

He let me go, turned his head, mine followed
the direction of his gaze and I saw the waiter there. But Sam
didn’t disentangle our legs or move away when he leaned forward to
pull his wallet out of his jeans and pay. He paid in cash, the
waiter smiled, bowed and moved swiftly away and Sam’s hand went to
my thigh, curled around and his fingers gave me a squeeze as he
muttered without any enthusiasm whatsoever, “Let’s do this.”

“Wait,” I said quickly, his eyes came to
mine and my hand went to the side of his neck. “Just to finish what
we were talking about, when I go shopping with Luci, I’ll feel her
out and let you know. If it would be uncool for me to say anything,
ask anything, I promise, I won’t push it because she’ll know that’s
coming from you. But, if I think I can get her to open up to me
without any blow back on you, I’ll do it. Are you okay with
that?”

He grinned and answered, “Yeah, honey, that
works.”

“Good,” I whispered then pulled in a breath
and muttered, “Let’s get this done.”

Sam, being Sam, curled a hand around the
back of my knee, lifted my leg from his, set it gently down, got
up, pulled out my chair and helped me out of it. Then I nabbed my
purse, settled the strap on my shoulder, he grabbed my hand and led
me to the American couple.

As we approached, I saw the woman was nearly
bouncing in her chair. The man looked like he wished he had a
syringe filled with a fast-acting sedative he could stick her with.
And yes, I didn’t know the guy but that was exactly what he looked
like.

“
Ohmigod!
You’re with your
girlfriend!” the woman cried when we were within five feet of her
table, she shot out of her chair (her husband coming up much more
slowly) and her eyes shot to me. “Are you a model?”

“Uh… no,” I answered.

Her brows shot together. “An actress?”

“Uh –” I started but she cut me off.

“I haven’t seen you in any movies. What
movies have you been in?”

“I’m not an actress. I’m an administrative
assistant,” I told her and her jaw dropped.

Then she jabbed her husband with her elbow
three times and exclaimed, “How
neat
is that!” Her eyes
moved to Sam. “I love that! I just
knew
when you settled
down it wouldn’t be with some fancy actress or something but a girl
next door type. I
knew
it.” She turned to her husband.
“Didn’t I know it?”

“How ‘bout we take this shot so you can get
on with your dinner,” Sam suggested, tipping his head to the nearly
full plates of food on their table.

“Oh, we’re good, we’re fine,” she assured
Sam. “I know! Would you like to join us? I know you’re done eating
but you could have a drink or a glass of wine or something.”

“Actually, I need to get my woman home,” Sam
declined.

“Why? The night is young,” the woman noted
truthfully but rudely.

“Tilda,” her husband muttered, taking her
arm.

“Well it is,” she told him then looked at
Sam. “We’d love it. It’d be an honor to have a drink with a
hero.”

“Yeah, pumpkin,” her husband said with
strained patience. “But maybe this hero would like some private
time in a romantic place with his lovely lady.”

“Nonsense,” she shot back, indicating that
the flame had died between Tilda and her hubby because if Lake Como
couldn’t wake up the romance, nothing could and clearly the romance
was dead between them, so dead, she couldn’t see that the romance
might not be dead for everybody. Then she looked to Sam and me and
declared, “Nothing better when you’re in a foreign place and you
meet folks from home. Feels like you
are
home.”

This was an odd thing to say considering you
were in a foreign place to experience that place and
not
be
home.

Then again, Tilda was an odd woman.

But I couldn’t think of Tilda because, as
this wore on, I felt Sam’s hand get tighter and tighter in mine so
I felt it was time to step in before he broke bones.

“Actually,” I started my lie, “Sam needs to
get me back to our hotel because I’m expecting an important call
from home and I need privacy when I take it. Truthfully, we don’t
have a great deal of time so I hate to be the one to rush this but
do you mind awfully if I take the shot? Then we really need to
go.”

“Oh,” Tilda mumbled, her face falling, “I
hope everything is okay.”

“Me too,” I replied, taking matters into my
own hands and reaching out to the camera that was sitting on their
table. “But I’d hate for my call to come while we’re on the
sidewalk or something so…” I trailed off, grabbed the camera and
lifted it toward me. “Is there something special I need to do?”

“Point and click,” the man said quickly as
he shuffled around the table toward Sam, dragging his wife with
him.

To my shock and, apparently, seeing the
visible tightening of his entire body, also to Sam’s, Tilda wrapped
both her arms around Sam’s middle, plastered her front to his side,
turned her head and smiled scarily at the camera. Her husband stood
awkwardly off to Sam’s other side and smiled just as awkwardly.

Sam, being Sam, wrapped an arm around
Tilda’s shoulders, placed a hand on one of the man’s shoulders and
looked at me.

“Right, say cheese,” I called.

“
Cheese!
” Tilda screeched.

Her husband and Sam just smiled. I took the
shot.

“One more, just in case,” I said swiftly
then, “Ready, set, go.”

“
Cheese!
” Tilda repeated her
shriek.

Sam and her husband just kept smiling. I
took the shot.

Then I handed the camera to Tilda who nearly
snatched it out of my hands, turning it around to look at the
display even as she brought it toward her.

“Thank you, really,” the man muttered to
Sam, “Kenny’ll like those.”

“They’re
great!
” Tilda cried then
looked up at Sam and me. “Now, one with Coop’s girlfriend in
it.”

“We have to go,” Sam’s rough voice
rumbled.

“Just a quickie,” Tilda stated.

“We have to go,” Sam’s rough voice repeated
on another rumble, this one firm and unyielding, so much so,
Tilda’s body twitched and her eyes snapped to him in shock though
how she could be shocked, I did not know but I was not a rabid
celebrity hound who couldn’t take a hint either.

“They have to go, pumpkin,” the man
murmured.

“Enjoy your meal and your vacation,” Sam
said, curling an arm around my shoulders and guiding me away. “My
best to your boy, yeah?” Sam finished, his eyes on the man.

“Yeah. Thank you Mr. Cooper,” the man
returned.

Sam tipped up his chin to him then to the
woman but he did this while continuing to lead me away.