Moments Lost and Found (6 page)

Sam had reached out to Mark,
inviting him to dinner. She knew that, based on the last time they had dinner
together, if she didn’t make the overture, it would probably be a long time
before they saw each other again. And, despite how that evening had ended, Mark
wasn’t a friend that Sam wanted to lose. She got over feeling guilty and wanted
to make sure that their friendship was still in tact, especially given that
they were both up for the TimeCap rebrand. Whoever won, it would be a big coup,
and by meeting before the decision, they’d be on an equal playing field. If they
waited until after the account was awarded, there would be one winner and one
loser at the table.

When Sam walked into the restaurant,
she saw Mark at the bar already. She stood and looked for a moment thinking how
good looking he was. The last time she and Mark got together was in the
beginning of her relationship with Laurent, when everything was exciting and
crazy and turbulent and unknown. And the last time she had seen Mark was at the
awards show, when she was lower than low. Now that she and Laurent had been
together for almost a year, which Sam still couldn’t believe, she wanted to see
if any of her old feelings for Mark bubbled up to the surface. She waited to
feel something as she walked over. No butterflies. No increase in heart beat.
No question. It wasn’t that she questioned her feelings for Laurent, it was
just that seeing Mark there, remembering back to all the years she had hoped
for something to happen, Sam needed to make sure she wasn’t choosing the
exciting guy over the safe guy. Thankfully, it wasn’t a choice.

One thing that Sam had become very
attuned to since she had been with Laurent was how her body responded to him.
With everything else in her life being in her head, the way her body reacted to
him, his voice, his touch, even the simplest of looks, when it came to Laurent,
the way she physically responded was something she couldn’t will into being one
way or another. It was as clear this evening as it was the last time she went
out with Mark. Sam loved Mark as a friend. Nothing more, which was a relief. As
much as she protested to Laurent that was the case, there was a tiny part of
her that wasn’t 100% sure. But now that she was actually there with Mark, she
had no more doubt.

He was talking with the bartender,
an attractive woman in her 20s who seemed to be enjoying his attention and
conversation. He was a handsome guy and as sweet as they come. Sam came up
behind him and put her hand on his back as she smiled and greeted him softly,
“Hi Mark.” He grinned as he turned to her, stood up and planted a kiss on her
lips, then pulled her into a warm hug.

He whispered into her ear, “Hi
yourself, Sam,” as they embraced. When they let go, he held her for a moment to
just look at her and then said with a tinge of sadness, “You look great, Sam.”
As if he was disappointed that she looked as good as she did. The last time he
had seen her was at the Goldies, and she had looked, and been a mess.

 “Thanks, Mark. You do too. You
always do though.” He smiled at this, grabbed his drink and turned to walk with
her to the table. Sam could see the bartender’s disappointed look as Mark
didn’t offer more than a brief wave goodbye. She couldn’t help but feel a
little bit of smug satisfaction that in this town where youth rules, the cute
20-something bartender didn’t have anything on the almost-40 Sam.

When they got to the table, Mark
smiled warmly, “I’m glad you reached out, Sam.”

Sam was so relieved to hear this,
she returned his smile, “Me too, Mark, me too.” Sam figured she had to address
the elephant in the room, “I know, after our last dinner…” she trailed off and
he shrugged.

 “Hey, let’s not go there, ok?
I’m pretending that never happened,” he chuckled, “And until now, I’d convinced
myself it hadn’t.” Sam laughed.

 “Ok, fair enough. Well, truth
be told, I also wanted to get together because I know we’re both pitching for
the TimeCap account and I wanted to make sure that we were ok before an agency
was chosen.” Sam paused, looked down and then continued, “I don’t like it being
weird with us, Mark. There aren’t too many people in this industry I trust, so
I want to make sure that regardless of how this pitch goes, or anything else,
that we’re good.”

Mark smiled, rolled his eyes and
shook his head.

 “What? Does that mean we’re
not good?” Sam worried.

He chuckled again, “No, Sam, it
means that on top of everything else, you’re a good person too.”

 “Annnd, that’s a bad thing?”

 “You make it really hard for
me to convince myself that I wasn’t a complete idiot for not trying to go after
you earlier, before Laurent Román.” He said with a lopsided smile.

 “I was wondering how long it
would be before you brought his name up.”

Mark shrugged, “so, things are
still, um, good with you two? I just saw a picture of the two of you last week
at the premiere of one of the new series on his network, so I assume you’re
still together?”

Sam sighed and thought how weird it
was talking about her relationship. It was weird talking about it period, but
even odder with Mark, “Yeah, everything’s good. It’s great, actually. Though
it’s weird that there are pictures of me in the trades. I haven’t gotten used
to that yet.”

 “Yeah, I know you’ve never
been one for the spotlight.” they both chuckled, then he added, “I’m happy for
you, Sam, honest I am. You deserve to be happy.”

 “Thank you, Mark. That means a
lot. Ok, so let’s see, I think we’ve covered the relationship talk, and we
can’t really talk about TimeCap, so, how ‘bout those Dodgers?” They both
relaxed a bit and for the rest of the evening steered clear of the personal and
professional minefields.

At the end of the dinner, they
wished each other good luck with the pitch, Sam adding, “You know I’ll be
pissed if we don’t win it, but the only thing that would soften the blow would
be if you were to get it.”

 “Seriously, Sam, could you
just try to not be such a good person? Disappoint me a bit, please. I’ll feel
much better about myself” he kidded, then added sincerely, “same goes for me.
If we don’t get it, I hope you do.” They kissed and hugged each other goodbye,
Sam feeling relieved that she and Mark were back on solid footing with each
other.

The pitch process for TimeCap was
the antithesis of what they had experienced pitching Laurent and The Network.
Whereas he was decisive and his choice immediate, Sam and her group had meeting
after meeting and second and third round pitches over months while TimeCap took
their time to make their choice. And in each presentation, there were layers
upon layers of people, everyone from the President and head of marketing down
to managers, with every level in between. The minute one person would raise a
question, even if it had no merit, no relevance, any difference of opinion or
anecdotal experience could throw an entire idea out the window.

Sam was reminded how refreshing and
rare the experience working with Laurent was. Not just because of their
relationship, that truly had nothing to do with it. It was the fact that he was
decisive and knew his product. These meetings with the TimeCap crew
unfortunately were the norm for the industry. People who had no business
offering up their opinion could change weeks’ worth of work. Like many
entertainment companies, it seemed they made their decisions by two things:
fear and deadlines. The fear pushed the process and watered down the work so that
the campaign would be all things to all people and eventually lack any real
voice. And the deadlines would make them finally choose a campaign, not because
it was the best work, but because they were finally out of time and they’d
choose the last thing they saw, which by that time was typically no where near
as good as the first round ideas.

But Sam and her team continued to
deliver. While, on the one hand she knew that these meetings were a precursor
for things to come, should they win the account. On the other hand, it would
still be a big coup to get. Not to mention that after going round after round,
if they didn’t get it, it would really feel like all that work was for naught.
The funny thing was, when pitches got to this stage, no one was ever happy with
the actual work. It was never something to really be proud of, it was just
something to get done.

Sam and Laurent had agreed to try to
keep their working relationship at the office as much as possible. They still
maintained weekly meetings at his office every Friday morning, to review
upcoming show launches, new media plans, and various creative. When Sam arrived
for her weekly meeting she started with, “Do you have any idea how much I
appreciate working with you,
Monsieur Román
?”

 “
Monsieur Román
, eh?”

 “
Oui
, I’m trying to
separate you, Laurent, from you, my client.” Laurent raised an eyebrow in
interest. “You’re decisive, smart, clear. Ugh, these people at TimeCap can’t
make a decision to save their lives.”

 “Not everyone can be as
wonderful as I am, Samantha.” He said dryly.

 “I imagine few people see the
wonderfulness, it being eclipsed by that enormous ego.” She kidded as she
walked over and gave him a quick kiss hello on his lips.

As she turned around to walk to her
seat, he took that chance to slap her ass, and added, “You’re the one who
started this meeting telling me what a great client I am, Samantha.”

 “True.” She agreed as she
slumped into her chair. She really was exhausted and tired of the TimeCap
bullshit. But then she straightened and said, “I’m sorry, Laurent. I’m also the
one who wanted us to try to keep our professional life separate from our
personal life and it’s very unprofessional of me to complain to one client
about another. Let’s pretend I never mentioned it.”

 “Ok, Samantha.” He said
tightly.

She smiled and then added, “But you
can keep the part about you being a wonderful client.”

 “What about my enormous ego?
Does that stay too?” he smirked.

Sam raised her eyebrows and
shrugged, then playfully said, “Enormous isn’t always a negative adjective when
used describing parts of you, Laurent.” To which he nodded his head once and
smiled. “Ok, Mr. Wonderful, let’s get started.”

When they were wrapping up, Laurent
got up from his side of the desk and grabbed Sam, pulling her into a deep kiss,
which she returned. She never tired of his lips, his touch. But she had to get
back to the office, she had work to do, so she pulled away first, which he
clearly did not like. His hold on her arms got tighter, his look intense, on
the verge of angry. It didn’t matter that they had been together as long as
they had, he could still intimidate her. This was one of those times.

 “I’m sorry, Laurent, I have to
go. I have a ton of work to do.” Sam hated that her voice sounded like she was
pleading with him. She shouldn’t need his approval to let her go.

 “You don’t think I have work
to do, too?” He said coldly. Sam knew this was not good. She started to open
her mouth but he continued, “You know I don’t like you working on other
accounts, Samantha. But since we are past the launch, I accept that you are
pitching on TimeCap.” He took a breath, Sam knew that he still wasn’t finished,
so she held her tongue, “I do not like to be taken for granted, Samantha.
You’re the one who’s always asked for separation between work and personal, so
you can’t have it both ways. You start this meeting off telling me how
wonderful I am, talking to me like your boyfriend, and then when I act like
your boyfriend, you pull away.” He paused.

She realized he didn’t like being
turned down. Was this just the male ego? “In the future, do not discuss other
work when you’re here.” He finally released her arms and then said, “You can go
now.” At which he turned his back and walked back to his desk, immediately
picking up his phone and barked orders at whoever was unfortunate enough to be
on the other end of the call. Sam couldn’t hear what he was saying because her
heart was beating so loudly in her ears as she collected her things and walked
out. 

Laurent was upset for the rest of
the day. He had already made far more concessions with Samantha than he ever
had with anyone in his life, business or personal. Of course, he knew why. He
had never felt about anyone else the way he felt about her. Still, it didn’t
sit well with him, taking him for granted as he saw it. Changing the rules as
she went. It was disrespectful to him as a man and as a client. And he wasn’t
used to coming in second to anyone. Ever. Not in business. Not personally.

Sam and Laurent didn’t argue often,
but when they did, Sam immediately thought, that’s it. It’s over. Perhaps it
was because of her lack of relationship experience. She knew it was irrational.
Maybe it was the only way she could feel in control. But even though that was
her initial reaction, she knew deep down that she wouldn’t just end it.
Thankfully, she did have plenty of work to do, so once she got in the car, she
called the office and started going over things, and by the time she got to
there, she was firmly entrenched in work which kept her busy for the rest of
the day and her mind focused on work rather than on Laurent. But being that it
was Friday, which they usually spent together at his house, Sam wasn’t quite
sure what to do. She knew what she wanted to do — go home, have a glass
of wine and go to sleep. But she also knew that blowing off Laurent Román was
not a good idea. Especially after how personally offended he was after he felt
rebuked in his office. She didn’t know if checking with him was weak or just
being an adult.  But she had to do something, so she went the easiest
route possible: IM

SD: Hi. Should I still come over
tonight?

LR: Why wouldn’t you?

SD: Because of this morning’s
meeting.

LR: That’s work, Samantha.

Sam rolled her eyes. She couldn’t
argue that point with him. He was right, but did he have to be such a
patronizing ass?

SD: Ok, I’ll see you later.

LR: Good.

Once again, Sam felt like she was
being weak which was a feeling she hated and only felt with Laurent. She didn’t
want to see him, but knew that if she suggested they call tonight off, it would
turn into a bigger deal. So, like with so many other things with Laurent, she
looked at this as a learning experience and if it didn’t go well, she could
always leave then.

Sam let herself in, like she was
used to doing, and found Laurent in the living room with a glass of scotch,
which was not his normal drink for a Friday night. Typically, they’d share a
bottle of red wine together as they relaxed from the week. Sam thought that she
should have done what she wanted to do and stayed home. But there was no
turning back now.

 “Samantha.” He said in a low
growl. From the sounds of it, this was not his first drink. And by the looks of
it, the way he sat in an overstuffed chair, there was something about his body
language that was antagonistic. 

 “Laurent.” Was all she could
think to say. She was acutely aware of him and his movements, and it didn’t
feel good or right.

 “Can I get you a drink?” There
was something about the way he said this, the way he was acting that wasn’t
solicitous. It was laced with something. Anger?

 “Looks like you’ve already had
a couple.” She was tired of worrying. Whatever was going to happen she’d just
as soon get it over with.

 “Astute as ever,
Cheri
.”
He almost smiled, but then went serious again, “But you didn’t answer me.”

 “Sure, I’ll have what you’re
having.” She said with bravado. Fuck it, she thought. He wanted a fight, Sam
was going to fight like the big boys. Even though she hated scotch, it was
easier than taking time to go through the motions of opening a bottle of wine
that would probably barely be touched.

He got up to pour her a glass. When
he brought it over, they clinked glasses, looking each other in the eye as they
did. Sam took a big sip, really, more like a gulp. And her hopes of acting like
a man were dashed immediately. She tried to hold in the cough, but it burned
like hell, so she coughed, and coughed like a teenager taking her first sip of
alcohol. When she finally stopped, she saw Laurent smiling and quietly
chuckling at her. “
Bravo, Cheri
. You really showed me.” Sam was already
defeated if he knew that was her intention with having the drink in the first
place.

While she didn’t like the scotch, it
had the desired effect of immediate liquid courage, “Whatever you want to say,
Laurent, please just say it. Or stand there and laugh at me, or scowl at me.
You’re the one who suggested we should still get together tonight, so I’m here.
But if you want to fight, then,” and before she could finish he interrupted.

 “Drink your drink, Samantha.” Was
all he said as he finished his. He stood up and poured himself another and
brought the bottle over to Sam. Not one to back down from a challenge, she
threw back the rest of her drink, this time keeping it down, and held out her
glass. He raised his eyebrow slightly like he was mildly impressed and then
refilled her glass. Sam was already feeling the effects of the first drink, so
she sat down. She was at once relaxed from the alcohol, and angry. She
continued to sip at her second drink as he walked over to the bar, replaced the
bottle and then walked over to the stereo to turn on some music. Which helped,
since they weren’t talking. Sam watched him as he glided around the room, and
even as angry as she was, she couldn’t help but still be attracted to him. She
wanted to hit him, but she also wanted to tear his clothes off and fuck him.

As he continued to do this and that,
close curtains, start a fire, stoke the fire, Sam sipped at her drink and
stewed and got more agitated and horny. She couldn’t understand her conflicting
emotions. When she was finished, she set her glass down. He looked over and
asked, “Would you like another, Samantha?” This time, the S of Samantha wasn’t
as crisp as normal.

 “No, thank you, Laurent.” She
said petulantly, or as petulantly as she could after two scotches on a
basically empty stomach. The last time she had eaten was a salad at lunch, and
that was no match for the liquor.

 “Good.” Was all he said as he
held out his hand. She instinctively got up and took it and he grabbed her,
roughly and growled, “You want to fight, Samantha? You want to go head to head
with me and show me how tough you are? You think having a scotch is going to
prove something? If you want to fight, then ok, let’s fight.” His hands were on
her biceps and they were squeezing her arms tighter than he’d ever squeezed.
She squirmed to get away but then he leaned down to kiss her. And again, she
was so used to opening up, to giving in to him, she immediately returned his
kiss, but it was more than a kiss, it was like his mouth was mauling hers. She
could taste the scotch on him mingle with hers. The stubble that had grown from
the morning was rough on her face, rougher than usual because he was smashing
his mouth onto hers. But she was kissing him back or mauling him back. She
tried to free her arms but he wouldn’t let them go so she grabbed the back of
his waist and dug her nails in, hard, which seemed to surprise him. He let out
a throaty laugh, and through panting breaths asked “Really, Samantha? You’re
going to fight like a girl?” to which she reached up and grabbed his hair. He
twisted his head to break free of her grasp and swiftly swept one of his feet
under her legs to throw her off balance, and pushed her down on the couch.