Read Second Rate Chances Online

Authors: Holly Stephens

Second Rate Chances (12 page)

             
Sam had planned to buy Lil something for Christmas, he wasn’t sure what. Now he knew. This belonged to her a
longtime
ago and it was time he finally gave it to her.

~~~~

Titan Gaming was three blocks from Sam's building. He stepped out into the cold winter air, wrapping his double-breasted wool jacket tighter around his body. Instead of having Cosmo bring his car around, Sam opted to walk the short distance to his office. Considering what had led him to the hospital he found it silly that he drove the three blocks to begin with.

             
The Miles Tower, where Titan Gaming was located,
was one of the tallest buildings downtown. Its high-rise concept structure and gleaming windows were intimidating upon first glance. The lobby was quiet and clean, no sign that video gaming took place anywhere in the office. A receptionist sat at a very modern desk, her legs crossed at the ankles. On the lobby floor there was a coffee shop, the chain joint that was on nearly every corner of downtown but nowhere in sight in the Village.

             
Sam walked to the triple set of elevator doors and punched the up button. He waited, tapping his foot gently against the shiny floor, until the doors dinged open. When he stepped in, he hit the button for the twenty-third floor, and waited in silence as the elevator carried him nearly to the top floor.

             
When the doors opened, Sam walked slowly out into the lobby, which like the main floor, had a glass desk with a young woman behind it. He had only ever been to this floor once when he had been called in with his team to be congratulated on a job well done after the release of a highly anticipated game that was experiencing technical problems due to the real-life nature of the system. His team had been able to work out the kinks and still meet the deadline for the release.

             
As he approached the girl, who appeared to be a little younger than him, she smiled and stood, closing the distance that separated them. “Mr. Travers, it's so nice to see you out and about. Can I get you something to drink while you wait for Mr. Miles?”

             
“Um...no thank you.”

             
“Alright, he'll be with you in just a few moments. Perhaps you'd like to take a seat in one of the chairs.” She gestured to the row of modern metal chairs that looked like they belonged in a space ship. Again with the monochromatic color scheme. He and Mr. Miles must have used the same decorator. If he had to guess, he would have assumed Chloe was a person of interest.

             
It wasn't long before Mr. Miles strode out of his office and with long strides, made his way toward Sam. On instinct, Sam stood to meet the man who challenged him in height.

             
Both men stood at a little over six feet tall. Where Sam was on the slim and lean side, Mr. Miles had a stocky build. His gray hair combed back over his head, his eyes looked anything but friendly. In fact, Sam thought, they looked like those of snake about to consume its prey.

             
“Sam,” Mr. Miles said with what was supposed to be a friendly and welcoming smile. “It's good to see you. Please, come into my office.”

             
He ushered Sam to a set of double oak doors on the far side of the room. “Heidi, hold my calls until we're done, please.”

             
When the doors shut behind them, Mr. Miles asked Sam to take a seat. Instead of the uncomfortable chairs that no doubt came from IKEA that were in the waiting area, Mr. Miles’ office was stocked with plush furnishings. Rich colors of reds and gold’s adorned the tapestries of the chairs and the curtains. Doing as he was told, Sam took a seat and waited for Mr. Miles to continue.

             
“So tell me, how the recovery is coming along?” he began.

             
“I'm not quite sure, sir. I still don't remember anything but I'm working on it.”

             
“Good, good. That's real good. Chloe tells me she'll be in New York for a couple of weeks finishing up a few last-minute details for the wedding.”

             
Sam nodded. “Yes sir.” He didn’t want to say much for fear that his emotions regarding his daughter leaving would be written all over his face.

             
“It's important, Sam, that your memory return. For the sake of my daughter and for you.” Mr. Miles gave Sam a pointed stare as the warning words hung in the air. “With that being said, I'm here to help in any way that I can. In fact, I'm going to start with giving you time off, paid of course, so that you can do whatever it is that you need to do to recover from this traumatic event.”

             
“Thank you,” Sam replied. “I appreciate that considering I'm not even sure what my job is.” Sam gave a nervous laugh, hoping to ease the tension from the room.

             
“Exactly.” Mr. Miles said, with no hint of a smile at Sam’s uneasy laughter. “With it being the holiday season and all, I'd hate for something to be screwed up just because I need another man around the office. Your primary job is to focus on getting back your memory. Chloe has been planning this wedding since she was a little girl and it's important to me that she gets what she wants.”

             
Sam really couldn't understand how his life had come to this. Engaged to be married to a woman who thought only of herself. A soon to be father-in-law who was more like a viper than a father figure. Sam needed answers on how he had come to be in this situation.

             
“Until I hear from Chloe regarding your memory,” Mr. Miles nodded to the door and Sam took that as his cue to leave. Fine by him, he thought. The sooner he left this office, the better off he’d be.

             
As Sam stood and nodded to Mr. Miles, he turned around and made his way to the doors. “One more thing,” Mr. Miles called out when Sam was an arm’s length from the door. “You break my daughter’s heart and you can kiss your job and your condo goodbye. Do we have an understanding?”

             
Sam didn’t give him the satisfaction of a reply. He calmly walked out of the office, leaving the same way he came in. Once outside, he started walking back to his condo but it wasn’t to crash in the place he now realized his boss and soon-to- be father-in-law owned. In fact, Sam didn’t want to step back in the space ever again. No, he headed there for his car. He had only one place in mind to go and wind down.

91

 

SECOND RATE CHANCES

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 13

 

Sam drove until he saw the familiar building. Rusty’s Bar was housed in the fire station that once serviced all of Fair Haven before there was downtown and the village. He pulled into the parking lot that was on the side of the building and sat in his car, looking at the name painted in white script letters on the brick.

             
He stepped out into the frigid afternoon, the sun going down just behind the bar and the adjoining shops, turning the sky into evening. There was a chill was in the air without the sun there to provide warmth.

             
Sam walked to the building, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. As he stood in front of the door, he looked up at the two-story building. The windows, both upstairs and the two on either side of the front door advertised different beers. Neon lights flashed, hypnotizing people who passed by.

             
Sam had spent a lot of time in Rusty’s over the years. From college days to post graduation, it was a place he and his friends ended up after a long day. They had a table in the back that was always saved for them.

             
He opened the door; the sound of the bell above dinged as he entered. He wondered if he still visited Rusty’s. If not, did Rusty still own the place? Had one of his kids taken over?

             
The well-worn wood floor looked as if it were from an old saloon. It had nicks in places where bottles had busted. It was lighter in other places where the continuous flow of feet moved.

             
The door shut behind Sam, triggering the man behind the counter to acknowledge him. The man looked back to his task then jerked his head back in Sam’s direction. A smile grew on the old man’s face. He tossed the dishrag over his shoulder, as Sam walked closer to the bar.

             
“Well, I’ll be damned. Sam Travers. I didn’t think I’d ever see you in here again, boy.”

             
Well, that answered Sam’s question on whether or not he still came here.

             
“Rusty,” Sam said, extending his hand over the wood top bar. Rusty took it, but didn’t shake. He pulled Sam’s arm, tugging him nearly to the other side. Rusty hugged Sam’s neck and Sam noticed the man still smelled like the inside of his bar – like stale smoke and week old beer.

             
He looked the same, other than the graying hair in his goatee. Rusty was about five seven, with a head he shaved as smooth as a baby’s bottom. He was an ex-marine who obviously continued his workout routine.

             
“Been a long damn time, son. It’s true what they say?”

             
Sam nodded. “Don’t remember a thing from the last three years.”

             
Rusty shook his head. “Damn shame, boy. Though I have to say, if it brought you back in here then I’m mighty glad.”

             
Sam had to laugh. “I guess I’m sorry I haven’t been by.” With a shrug of shoulders Sam added. “Not sure why I stopped coming in.”

             
“Oh, it’s all right,” Rusty said, waving off Sam’s apology. “People, they come and they go. Can’t live in a bar, Sam. If you do you either own one or you’re a drunk. You were too smart to own one and that pretty girl of yours always made sure you knew your limit.

             
“Speaking of…” Rusty began.

             
“Lil’s here?” Sam asked, hopeful that maybe he would get to see her before Wednesday.

“No, but your buddies are. Kane and Abe,” Rusty pointed to the corner of the bar where their table still stood. “All I need is Lil here and Ellie in an apron serving up drinks. It’ll be like old times. What can I get for ya?”

             
“Whatever you have on tap is fine,” Sam said.

             
“Son, I got ten different kinds of beers on tap now!” Rusty laughed, his eyes gleaming. “I’ve moved up in the world. No more whatever truck comes in to refill my keg.”

             
Sam smiled. “In that case, I’ll take something new. Something you didn’t have three years ago.”

             
Rusty nodded and grabbed a mug from under the bar. He filled the glass, keeping it cocked to the side so that there was more beer than foam. Sam pulled out his wallet as Rusty slid the glass across the counter to him.

             
“Put your money away, kid. This one’s on the house.”

             
“Thanks, Rusty.” Sam walked away, his beer in hand, over to Kane and Abe. They were sitting side by side at a small table, talking low to one another while their eyes took in the changes to the space. Sam noted that not much had changed. Neon signs took up most of the wall space, along with pictures of patrons that were regular customers. Sam knew somewhere on these walls there was a picture of him, Lil, Kane, and Abe. If memory served him correctly, there was more than one on these walls.

             
“Mind if I join you?” he asked. Kane and Abe looked up as Sam spoke. His stomach twisted in knots. He wasn’t sure if they would welcome him, or chase him away with pitchforks.

Kane shrugged like he didn’t care what Sam did. Sam took that as a yes, and settled in across from his old friends.

             
A few moments of silence passed. Sam sipped the unfamiliar beer Rusty had served him, enjoying the crisp, clean taste. It wasn’t bitter like some beers were. It had a nice flavor and no bad after taste.

             
“Listen guys,” Sam said, as the silence began to weigh in on him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’ve done in the past and I don’t expect you to forgive me for whatever it was. But regardless, I must have fucked up pretty bad to lose my two best friends and my girlfriend.”

             
Neither Kane nor Abe looked at Sam as he asked for their forgiveness. He was about to take his beer back to the bar to visit with Rusty when Kane’s words stopped him.

             
“You’re forgiven,” he said.

             
Sam’s eyes widened. “Really?” He looked at Abe for reassurance that he felt the same way.

             
“Yes really,” Abe said. “We can’t fault you for something you don’t remember. But I will say this.” Sam pulled up his height and sat back a fraction of an inch. Abe was kind of scary when he meant business.

             
“When you do remember, don’t go back to being the jackass we’ve come to know. I’ll kick your scrawny ass.” He looked Sam thoroughly over. Even going as far as leaning over the edge of the table to check him up and down. He arched one eye higher than the other and said, “Well, I’ll kick your finely-toned skinny ass if you do.”

             
Sam laughed softly and nodded his head. “You got it. So, either of you want to tell me what I did?”

             
“You haven’t talked to Lil?” Kane asked. “I’d assumed she'd have told you.”

             
“Told me what? I haven’t talked to Lil since I left the house Saturday morning.”

             
Kane raised a questioning eye in Sam’s direction, and then looked at his boyfriend, a smile playing at his lips.

             
“Saturday morning? Oh, Miss Lil didn’t mention she’d seen you on Saturday
morning
.”

             
It felt good to have Kane teasing him about Lil. He had seen the way he cut his eyes at him when he’d ran into them at Titan after he came home from the accident. Kane’s look was out to kill and Sam was his target.

             
Sam looked sheepish. “It was nothing,” he tried to tell them. “I stopped by and she let me stay the night.”

             
Sam looked up when he heard Abe gasp and cover his mouth with both hands. His eyes were round, as were Kane’s, with the jawdropping news.

             
“Seriously guys,” Sam said laughing. “I slept on the couch. We talked. That was it. Wait.” Sam stopped. The news of them talking to Lil had finally hit him. “You talked to Lil?” he asked.

             
Kane rolled his eyes. “Don’t play coy with us, Sam. You know we talked to her.”

             
“No,” Sam said. “I didn’t.” At Kane’s expression that said, don’t bullshit me, Sam explained. “I mean, I knew she wanted to talk to you two. She had told me she was going to help me by finding out what happened between us. I never asked her to, I swear it.

             
“But c’mon guys!” Sam exclaimed. “It was Lil’s idea of helping me and I wasn’t about to turn her away. I want her help. Hell, I
need
her help. Besides, she told me she’s lost contact with you two as well. I thought it would be just as good for her to talk to you just as much as finding out what went down with us.”

             
“Fair enough,” Kane said a sigh. He then dived into the story he had told Lil about the man Sam had turned into and how it had broken their friendship apart. When he was done, Sam leaned back in his chair, shocked to learn the kind of person he had become. What kind of friend turned his back on his two oldest friends? Who put work ahead of fixing his battered relationship with his girlfriend – the love of his life?

             
“Well, that would explain the meeting I had with Mr. Miles today,” Sam said.

             
“What?” Abe asked, flabbergasted. “You went to see him?”

             
“Not on my own free will, believe me. I was summoned.”

             
“About what?” Kane inquired.

             
“He wanted to make sure I was putting one hundred and ten percent into my therapy. That I don’t hurt his beloved daughter. Oh, and if I do, I can kiss my job and my condo goodbye.”

             
Abe and Kane both winced at Sam’s words. “Ouch,” Abe said. “That’s brutal.”

             
“I have paid time off, which is great, but I’m to the point where I’m ready to say, fuck Titan. Fuck Mr. Miles and fuck wearing a suit every day. Fuck my office. Why would I leave gaming, something I’ve loved for as long as I can remember, for number crunching? Why would I give up wearing whatever I want for three piece suits and shiny shoes?” he said, holding up his hands. “You wouldn’t believe the shoes in my closet. I was there today doing laundry because apparently in all this new found money I have, I haven’t hired a maid. Anyway, I have rows and rows of brown and black patent leather shoes.”

             
“Oh,” Kane said, with bitterness in his tone. “I know the kinds of shoes you wear, brother. I have to watch you walk into the basement every day with those things on.”

             
“Kane hates you for that,” Abe said. “What?” He looked at Kane who’s own expression was appalled he had said that he hated Sam. “You do! You mumble to yourself when he walks by about how those shoes should be on your feet. That you know how to wear them properly.”

             
Sam let out a gut wrenching laugh. “Buddy, you can have them.
All
of them.”

             
Kane looked at Sam. His eyes lit up like a warm fire on a cold night. “Really?”

             
“Yeah.” Sam nodded, still laughing.

             
Kane looked at Abe like he had just won a monumental battle. His condescending smile had Sam doubled over in tears.

             
When the laughter died down, Sam took the conversation in a more serious direction. Lil hadn’t given him any insight as to what happened to them. Now that he knew how he had abandoned his friends, his next task was working to fix what he had broken with Lil.

             
“I still don’t know what broke Lil and I apart.”

             
Kane and Abe looked down at their drinks, unable to meet Sam’s eyes.

             
“Guys? What did I do?” he pleaded.

             
Kane shook his head from side to side. “It’s not our place,” he whispered. When he looked at Sam, he saw the sadness reflected in his eyes. “Lil has to be the one to tell you.” Sam opened his mouth to argue that they could tell him just as well, when Kane held up his hand to silence him.

             
“Sam, Lil knows you want to know and she
will
tell you, but it has to be on her terms. It’s one thing for Abe and I to sit here and tell you what you did to us, it’s a whole other thing to talk about you and Lil.”

             
“For her,” Abe said, downing the rest of his beer. “It’s reopening an old wound. There’s still that risk that if she opens up and tells you everything, she’s breaking her heart all over again.”

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