Angels Walking (21 page)

E
MBER AND BECK HOVERED
over the downtown Los Angeles Hyatt and talked in hushed tones.

“A battle is taking shape.” Beck stared through the windows of the highest floor. “You see it?”

“The dinner party?”

“Yes.” Beck felt anxious beside her. “The one about to start.”

Ember knew the weight of the situation. They still hadn’t figured out a way to get Tyler to California and time was running out.

“The humans in that room have no idea what’s at stake.” Beck felt the concern in his expression. “I turned up the heat.”

“The heat?” Ember loved working with Beck. He was easily the most creative angel on the team. “In the building?”

“In the ballroom.” He let his eyes meet Ember’s. “You’ll go walking. The minute Sami gets too hot.”

Ember didn’t need to ask whether that would happen. They’d been praying for a breakthrough. If Beck had a plan, something was about to give. Which was a good thing.

They were just about out of time.

THE LAW FIRM
hosted the dinner several times a year. Local conservatives, politicians, and prosecutors. An accomplished crowd for sure, but Sami struggled to stay present. Dinner that Saturday night was on the top floor of the downtown Hyatt. But the room was hot and stuffy and Sami kept looking through the glass walls to the outdoors. Through two double doors was an open-air garden terrace, twenty-two floors off the ground.

Sami wanted to be out there in the worst way.

A trio of violinists played classical music from a corner near the buffet line. Prime rib at a carving station, chilled shrimp, butterflied chicken fillets. Other than the heat, the atmosphere was perfect. Like the guests—at least in her boyfriend’s mind. Arnie was talking now, waxing on about the case he’d been given.

“So it turns out the drug they’ve been prescribing for diabetes actually makes patients gain weight.” He looked at the rapt faces of those at their table. A senator and a congressman and their wives, and two other lawyers from the firm. “Weight, of course, exacerbates diabetes. It raises blood sugar all on its own. It’s terrible.” Arnie held up his pointer finger. “Here’s the clincher. I have documentation to prove that the defendants actually know their drug makes diabetes worse. But still they launched into a full marketing campaign to the contrary.”

Sami stared out the window again. The sparkle of lights beyond mesmerized her. Like the stars overhead that night on her grandparents’ roof with Tyler Ames. Three days had passed since she’d seen his private message. She hadn’t answered him, but nothing had felt right since. She suddenly realized she wasn’t listening.
Focus,
she ordered herself.
You’re being rude.

“That’s terrible.” The senator shook his head. “Is this a class-action suit? I mean, I know you’re young, Arnie, but talk to your superiors. There’s a whole generation of diabetics who need to know about this.”

“Exactly.” Arnie raised his brow and looked around the room. “Someone needs to turn down the heat.” He didn’t seem aware that Sami was even there. He smiled at the senator. “But no, this isn’t class action. Not yet, anyway. The more information I find, the more damaging it is for the defendants.” He sat back, clearly proud of himself. “Let’s just say I feel pretty good about a win.”

Sami nodded. What were they talking about? Diabetes? She nodded again.
Stay interested, Sami. Stay interested.

The congressman leaned on his forearms, his eyes intent. “What are the parameters of the case?”

“Clear-cut.” Arnie was in his glory. “The plaintiff heard about the drug through the defendants’ slick marketing campaign, took it for a year, and watched her weight soar fifty pounds . . .”

Sami couldn’t take another moment. “Excuse me.” She stood and leaned close to Arnie. “I’ll be right back.”

“Samantha.” Confusion creased his forehead. “We’re about to eat.”

“I know.” She picked up her clutch purse and smiled at the others. “I won’t be long.”

She wore pretty black pumps and a black Rag and Bone dress for the occasion—Arnie’s gift. Her hair was styled in a classic up-do—Arnie’s favorite for nights like this. What had he said to her when he picked her up at her apartment? “You look like the wife of a congressman, Samantha. Beautiful and understated. Absolutely perfect.”

Understated?
Sami walked with practiced poise through the dining room and out into the hall. She didn’t need to use the restroom. She needed air. Any means possible of clearing her mind. She quickened her pace and walked to the end of the hall. A door led to the other side of the outdoor garden. From this part of the terrace she was hidden from the dining room.

The moment she was outside she sucked in three quick breaths. Never mind the LA smog. This was the freshest air she’d had in an hour. She walked to the railing and held it with both hands, steadying herself.

Understated, really?
The word rattled around in her empty heart. Did Arnie really think that was a compliment? She was twenty-four years old. Wasn’t she a little young to be going for understated?

Her grandparents loved Arnie. He wasn’t as perfect as they thought he was, but he came pretty close. He had even talked about getting back to church in a few years, after they married and before kids came along. Theirs would be a grounded life, safe and financially secure. No question. They would laugh at their TV shows and play board games on the
weekends and pay the mortgage on time. Arnie would be a good father.

Stop,
she told herself. What was she thinking? She loved Arnie. He was kind and good and successful. They had everything in common, right? They loved Italian restaurants and sitting on the beach and playing Scrabble. Of course he was the right one for her. The conversation tonight just felt a little heavy, that’s all.

If only there was a way to feign sickness and go home. She and Mary Catherine could watch reruns of
The Cosby Show
. Anything but sharing a dinner table with the people here tonight. She tilted her head back and stared at the sky. Only a few stars were bright enough to compete with the lights of Los Angeles. “God . . . what am I doing?” she whispered. Not a prayer, really. Just that no one else seemed to be listening to her tonight. “How did I wind up in this life?”

Her mind settled down. She focused on taking slow breaths. Everything was going to be okay. She peered into the dark sky and tried to imagine her future with Arnie. As she did she heard the door open behind her.
Great . . . Arnie followed me.
She turned and felt herself relax. It was a woman, someone about Sami’s age.

She was striking. Long blond-red hair and bright blue eyes, set off by her bright blue dress. “Beautiful out here.” The woman drew a quick breath and took a spot at the railing, a few feet down from Sami.

“Yes. And quiet.” Sami looked over her shoulder at the door again. “Were you at the dinner party?”

“Yes.” She laughed lightly. “About to fall asleep.”

“Me, too. It was hot in there.” This was supposed to be a few minutes alone. But Sami liked the woman. She felt almost as if they’d met before. “I’m here with Arnie Bell.” Sami hesitated. “Do I know you?”

“Ahh, Arnie Bell.” The woman raised one eyebrow. “I know him. Very serious.” She held out her hand. “And no. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Ember.”

“Hi. I’m Sami.” She smiled. “I like your name.”

“Thanks.” Ember stared out at the lights of the city. “I just needed to breathe. Needed to feel close to God. Dinner parties make that a little tough.”

“Definitely.” Sami studied the woman. Something about her was so familiar. “You’re here with one of the lawyers?”

“Just as friends.” She looked relaxed. “I learned something a long time ago. I’d rather be single than be with the wrong guy.” Ember smiled. “Life’s too short to settle.”

The woman’s words seemed to cut straight through her. “You’re right . . .” Sami looked back at the city lights. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Hey . . . I need to go.” Ember looked at her. “God has good plans for you, Sami.”

“For me?” Sami felt a chill pass over her arms and down her spine. “What does that—”

“You know. The Bible verse. Jeremiah 29:11.” Ember smiled. “God has great plans for His people.” She shrugged, her expression light. “I guess I was just thinking about it.”

“Yeah.” Sami faced the woman. “Thanks.”

Ember waved. “Nice meeting you.”

“You, too.” Sami watched the woman walk back through the door and down the hall. Then she turned and stared into
the dark sky. What a sweet person. Almost as if she had known Sami was out here.

Her words washed over Sami once more.

I’d rather be single than be with the wrong guy . . . Life’s too short to settle.

Suddenly, despite the twinkling lights of the city, all Sami could see was Tyler Ames.

She had memorized his Facebook message. He was doing well. Still in Pensacola and working toward the Big Leagues. He’d stopped drinking. He still thought about her.

Every now and then, anyway.

Nothing about the injury or how it had ended his season. Nothing to tell her why he had looked her up now—after so many missed opportunities. Sami heard a plane overhead. She watched it fly east, further away from her. Where was it going? Maybe to Pensacola. It would be that easy, right? Get on a plane and go see for herself. Who was Tyler Ames today?

And how come they had lost touch?

When exactly was the last time he tried to call her? Their last conversation, of course, was after the arrest. Sure, they were Facebook friends. But Sami never looked him up. She didn’t want to talk. He had hurt her. She needed to move on with her life. Which she had. Quite successfully.

If she had to guess, she doubted Tyler was eating at a place like the Hilton tonight. Sure, he’d gotten a huge signing bonus. He had paid cash for the Charger and he probably blew through the rest over the next year or so. Back then, his crazy life had to be expensive.

But wherever he was, whatever he was doing, Tyler had taken the time to write to her. She could at least respond, tell
him how she was doing, talk about the job and her roommate and . . .

No!
She pulled away from the railing and walked back inside. What was she thinking? If she wrote back to Tyler it would mean only one thing: she was interested. If she acted interested in Tyler, he would assume the door between them was open. Even just a crack.

Which it wasn’t.

She walked quickly down the hallway. How long had she been gone? Arnie would be impatient. She absolutely would not answer Tyler’s message. Better, she would delete it as soon as she got home. A group of women was leaving the dinner party as Sami entered the room.
Good,
she thought.
A distraction.
The whole room wouldn’t be watching her.
Slow down. Poise over pace.
How many times had her grandmother told her that?
Young ladies don’t rush into a room. They take their time. Confidence is key.

She scanned the room for Ember. Before the night was over Sami wanted to find her and thank her for her random wisdom. She would never know the impact of her words tonight. She couldn’t settle for a broken past relationship when she was dating someone so wonderful. And that was Arnie—even on his off nights.

Instead of Ember, halfway across the dining room, Sami saw her boyfriend. He was still talking, still engrossed in telling stories. Suddenly her own pep talk on Arnie’s behalf felt a little flat.
He didn’t even miss me.
She thought about turning around or searching the room until she found Ember. But at the last second Arnie noticed her and he hurried to his feet. His smile remained, but as she reached him he lowered
his voice so only Sami could hear it. “What took so long?”

“Sorry. I had a message . . . from work.” The lie came so easily it surprised her. Samantha Dawson did not lie. She found her practiced smile, the one she used at dinners like this. “What did I miss?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he pulled her chair out, and she sat down. Arnie grinned at the faces around the table. “Where were we?”

Disappointment washed over Sami. She never should’ve come back to the table. When it was their turn at the buffet line she took only small amounts. Her appetite wouldn’t allow more. She looked again for Ember but couldn’t find her. The woman’s advice confused her now. Was she settling for Arnie? He was a great guy, Sami wanted to believe that. But how much did he really care for her?

Back at the table, conversation picked up with the discussion of armed administrators at public schools, after which it drifted to a talk on integrity in history books, and finally to border control. Everyone had a solution and everyone agreed that the solutions being bandied around at the table would work.

Sami constantly felt her attention drift. She thought about Ember and her timely words and the Facebook message sitting back at home on her laptop and . . .

Stay focused,
she told herself.
You’ll embarrass Arnie.
Sami sipped her ice water, anything to stay alert. By the time the meal ended and Arnie walked her to her apartment door, an awkward silence had taken up residence between them.