Ruby Red, The Sequel - The Romance Story Continues (Complete)

Chapter 37

By the time Cruz got there, Sam was in a dreadful state. He felt the urge to drown his feelings in the numbness offered by alcohol.

The only thing stopping him was the knowledge this would make Ali's earlier assumption right. He really did not want that. Maybe he could go to her hotel room tonight and win Ali back. Being drunk was not going to make that happen.

Sam had tried to call her back immediately, but Ali refused to pick up. He couldn't blame her. Her last words echoed in his mind. "I can't do this." Had she just broken up with him? Was that it? Where they over? Hanging up on him was a point in the split-up column.

Yet, before those words, there had been such concern in her voice, followed by the hint of pain. It had to mean she still had feelings for him. He filed that as a point in the stay-together column.

Sam continued on this way, vacillating between points for a yes or no to the answer of whether his life with Ali was over. He had once wondered how Ali's ex-husband could have been so stupid as to lose her. Now he felt a tinge of sympathy for the man. So absorbed in his tallying was he, Sam barely noticed when Cruz slid into the barstool beside him.

"Who took your favourite toy away?" Cruz poked. Sam huffed at his friend. The other man had no idea how close he was to the truth. Not that Ali was a toy, but she was his favourite thing in the world. And she had been stolen from him.

Not wanting to think about it, Sam asked what Cruz wanted to talk about so desperately.

"No way dude. I need a clear head and objective advice." Cruz waved his hand in a circular direction at Sam. "Whatever this is, it's neither of those."

Grumbling that he was probably right, Sam was about to spill when the bartender asked Cruz what he wanted. After a pause, where Cruz made a way too obvious study of the other man's angular features a beer was ordered. "For now," added Cruz in a slow drawl.

The two men sat in silence, both watching the bartender pour the amber liquid into a tall glass and slowly stroll it back to where they sat. As he placed the beer on a coaster in front of his customer, the man included a sultry "Enjoy," with the drink.

Cruz smiled. Sam rolled his eyes, picked up his non-alcoholic drink, looked into the glass and then placed it back on the polished surface, never tasting it. Everyone was finding love but him. Well, what a great day he thought, another huff escaping his lips.

After a slow sip, Cruz replaced the glass on the coaster and turned to Sam. "Okay – out with it."

Sam attempted to object, but Cruz held up a hand again, this time in a halt motion. "Nope. You need to talk. Lay it on me."

"I think Ali and I are over."

"You think?" Cruz raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I'm sure. Is that better?" Sam snarled.

"What did you do?"

"Not me. Her. She's cheating on me," grumbled Sam. It hurt to say it out loud. Like splinters spitting out of his throat.

"What? Are you mad? Not possible." Cruz shook his head for emphasis. "That girl only has eyes for you. I've never seen anyone so in love."

"It's true. I saw it myself. Today."

"With who?"

"Noah."

"Noah. That leech. Now there's someone I know would have no qualms about hitting on another man's girl." After a long pause, Cruz shook his head again. "But you saw them together?"

"She was in his arms." Sam gave Cruz the relevant facts.

"Ok. Noah made a move. I get that." Taking a swig from his beer, Cruz continued. "But did you actually see Ali accept his advances? Kiss him?"

Sam closed his eyes, reliving the moment. Ali's smile. How he'd thought the look was for him. Her turning in Noah's arms and...

Popping his eyes open, Sam stared at his reflection in the bar mirror opposite him. Had they kissed? Sam didn't know. He could imagine it. Had imagined it. But the truth was he didn't see Ali kiss Noah. Or do anything wrong for that matter.

"No." Sam moaned. "Oh, what is wrong with me. I...I assumed."

Cruz clapped him on the shoulder. "You know what assuming does."

"I am an ass," Sam uttered what Cruz was hinting at.

"No challenge here, man. Question is what are you going to do about it?"

Sam looked down at his phone. Text? Call? No. This needed to be fixed before things got further out of hand. He had to see Ali, in person. Now. She would be at the gallery. Ali had mentioned a meeting this afternoon. He would go there and wait for her to come out, not leaving until she spoke to him.

And then...well, Sam wasn't sure what he would do but he knew it would involve a lot of begging. Happily, he would do it. Down on his knees if that is what it took.

"Fancy meeting you here."

The woman's words cut through Sam's thoughts. He turned to confront the perky face of Vicky, eyes shining with excitement.

"This is perfect." She called the bartender over. "We can start the celebration early."

For a moment, Sam thought she was referring to his impending reunion with Ali. But then he remembered she didn't know anything about them breaking up. "Oh, hey Vicky. Look, Cruz and I were just heading out."

"What?" She put on her pouty face. "You can't leave. You owe me a drink."

"Vicky, I can't. I have to go." Now he had a plan, Sam was anxious to get started. He had already wasted enough time without Ali. He looked at Cruz for support but before the other man had a chance to protest, Vicky trumped them.

"But it's my birthday."

Sam whined internally. He had forgotten completely her birthday was coming up. No correct that; here. But the last thing he wanted was to spend the night drinking with Vicky. In the past, it always led down a disastrous path. Searching his mind for an excuse to bail on her, strains of a past conversation came to mind. "Don't you have a party to go to?"

Vicky rolled her eyes. "That's later." She brushed her hands on her legs. "Oh, come on Sammy. One little shot with me." Vicky pouted. "For old times sake."

Old times brought back feelings of guilt and Sam found himself unable to disappoint Vicky again. He nodded, making it clear he only had time for one shot to toast her with and then he must go. Ali was waiting for him, he reinforced.

"Great." Vicky beamed with anticipation. "Barkeep, three Jägermeisters please."

His stomach rolled. Sam hated the cough-medicine tasting liquor. For some reason back in high school, they started drinking the harsh beverage. He couldn't remember why, perhaps they thought it was sophisticated or maybe exotic. 

Together they had toasted many a liquor-infused evening with shot after shot of it before moving on to other activities. Activities he didn't want to remember. Sam hadn't had a taste of it in years. Not since the night of his brother's accident. "Really, Vicky. Anything but that stuff."

Vicky grinned devilishly and wagged her finger. "Oh yes. It's tradition."