“I think he’s the best thing ever, the best person ever. I just…” She swallowed and shook her head. That thing inside her was continuing to grow. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold it back. “I can’t be his friend and part-time lover. I just can’t. I hope you understand that.”
“Why part-time lover?” Becky tilted her head.
“Are you serious? You know Ozzie.”
“Yeah, we do,” Delilah said. “Question is, do you?”
“I…” Samantha stopped and shook her head. “I know he loves women. I know he asks every woman he meets to marry him.”
“Has he ever asked you to marry him?” This from Emily.
Samantha was taken aback. “Well…no, but—”
“And didn’t that ever strike you as strange?” Now it was Becky’s turn.
“I…” Samantha began, then stopped and shook her head. She couldn’t think. Not with so many people firing questions at her. She finally knew what it was like to be on the other side of a press conference.
“Didn’t it ever occur to you that Ozzie asks every woman he meets to marry him,” Delilah added, “but he never asked you, because yours is the only answer that really matters?”
Now the room wasn’t tilting or spinning. It was beginning to narrow into a tunnel. Or maybe that was just Samantha’s vision. Her chest ached with pressure. “What are you trying to tell me?” she managed.
Instead of answering her, Becky posed yet another question. “Has Ozzie ever told you why he loves eighties hair bands or Star Trek?”
The change in topic threw Samantha for a loop. “I asked him once, but…” She trailed off, realizing he had never given her an answer.
“Well, the reason he loves that stuff is because of his mother,” Becky said. “He ever talk about her to you?”
“She died when he was four, right?”
“Killed herself,” Becky clarified, and Samantha gasped, aching for the little boy who had grown into such an amazing man. “Ozzie’s father fell apart. He took to the bottle in his grief and self-pity. In drunken rages, he blamed Ozzie for his mother’s death.”
“Sweet merciful fuck.” Samantha wheezed. Her throat had closed up.
“See, she suffered from postpartum depression after Ozzie’s birth,” Becky went on. “She documented everything in her diary. The depression. The doubts and anxiety. The feelings of failure. Of course, at the time, postpartum wasn’t widely discussed, so she suffered in secret until one day, it all became too much. She left a note saying she thought Ozzie would be better off without her. Then she went out to the garage, attached a garden hose to the exhaust on her car, threaded it through the driver’s side window, and went to sleep. Forever. Ozzie grew up feeling in some way responsible for her death.”
As he does, Samantha thought, her broken heart ground to dust for the man she loved.
“He escaped his father’s drunken rages by locking himself in his room with all his mother’s old stuff,” Becky added. “Her eighties hair band cassettes and Star Trek VHS tapes. That’s how he got to know her. How he continues to keep her close and pay tribute to her memory.”
“But that’s not the only way,” Emily chimed in. “The other way he pays tribute to her is with his motorcycle and the tattoo above his heart.”
And suddenly, Samantha understood. With that understanding, she was no longer able to hold back the thing growing inside her. It began to erupt, starting with a quake in her chest. “Violet,” she whispered. “He named his bike after his mother.”
“Yes.” Becky nodded. “The bike he sacrificed without a thought. For you.”
That’s when it happened. Samantha Tate, the woman who never cried, burst into great, heaving, body-shaking tears.
*
“This was a bad sodding idea,” Christian muttered, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
Samantha Tate was a pretty woman, but she cried ugly tears. The sort of tears that made her whole body heave.
“No.” Emily shook her head. “It was a great idea.” There was a smile on her face.
“What, pray tell, could you possibly have to grin about?”
“She loves him. Like loves him loves him.” When Christian turned back, it was to find Becky and Delilah patting Samantha’s shoulders while offering her a box of tissues. “Oh, the joy of being right,” Emily added, still beaming.
“There’s still a long way to go yet,” he warned her. “This scheme of yours could still backfire on us all.”
“Ozzie’s happiness is worth the gamble,” Emily said.
Christian hoped so. But in the same breath, he sent up a silent prayer of thanks that his brothers-in-arms in the field were ready to be evac-ed immediately, should this grand plan Emily and Becky had schemed up not go the way they hoped. Should Samantha not react the way they hoped.
“Everyone agreed,” Emily added, glancing over at him, that damned beauty mark making him barmy. “You agreed. Don’t tell me you’re changing your mind.”
“No,” he assured her. “You’re right. Ozzie’s happiness is worth the gamble.” Because, like everyone else, he happened to love the obnoxious wanker.
“See.” Emily pointed at his face. “I knew there was a warm heart buried somewhere under that cold exterior.”
He frowned. She thought he was cold? When she was around, he was so hot, he wanted to shed his clothes. And then ask her to shed hers.
He opened his mouth to say…he wasn’t sure what, but he was stopped when Becky quietly told Samantha, “Ozzie has spent his whole life being rejected by the people he loves. First there was his mother. Then there was his frickin’ father. Add the women his father brought into the house who would coddle Ozzie and dote on him until they eventually realized they were no replacement for Ozzie’s mother, and they ended up leaving too. And even though I don’t think Ozzie ever loved any of the women he took to bed, he certainly cared about them. But did any of them stick around?”
Samantha started to say something, but Becky talked right over her. “No, they did not. We’re all hoping you’re different.”
“But wh-what if…” Samantha wiped her red, puffy eyes and blew her nose. “What if he doesn’t love me? What if he rejects me?”
“Guess that’s a risk you’re gonna have to take. Is he worth it?”
Samantha swallowed, searching Becky’s eyes. “Yes. He’s worth everything.”
“Good answer.” Delilah slapped her on the back, and Christian breathed a sigh of relief.
Becky glanced around the table. “I think it’s time, don’t you?”
Christian’s heart clenched for Ozzie. This would be the moment of truth. The moment they’d all know if Samantha was worthy of Ozzie. Or if she would kill their careers.
Delilah placed both hands on the table and pushed to a stand. “Let’s do this.”
“Do what?” Samantha blinked in alarm.
“Follow us.” Becky stood and motioned for Samantha to do the same. Blowing out a breath, Christian trotted after the women to the bank of computers.