Part 9

Part 1 - 8 here.

Jordan drove smoothly towards the appointed restaurant, unaware of the breath taking scenery before him. As the setting sun lit the autumn leaves ablaze in a sea of flaming golden red, he flicked his gaze over to Sam sporadically, observing the golden sheen the sunlight cast on her tresses as she sat looking pensively out the window. His own thoughts floated back to the phone call they had just received.


♪ This is the time, this is the day that we've been waiting for. All the world will stop to watch you shine. ♪

Seeing Liz's name flashing on the screen of his mobile, Jordan reached for his phone and pressed the speaker button.

"Speak up. You're on speaker." Jordan intoned, omitting the niceties.

"Hi Liz. Are you going to be late?" Sam asked, intuitively knowing that something had come up."

Actually, I called to let you guys know I'm not able to make it for dinner." Liz sighed melodramatically, "Jordan why don't you have dinner with Sam in my place instead." From the tone of her voice, Jordan could tell that it was not a suggestion.

"What?" He sputtered. "How can you ask for a date and then renegade at the last moment." Trying to sound indignant for Sam's sake instead of thinking about the infringement on his evening.

"Of course, i prefer to spend my evening apologising to sleazy, filthy-rich old men for someone else's miscalculations instead." She drawled sarcastically. Jordan shut his lips instantly.

"Don't worry about it Liz. You concentrate on your work. Jordan and I will be able to sort things out on this end." Now that Liz couldn't make it to dinner, she was going to ask Jordan to drop her off at the nearest train station instead.

"I'm afraid i'll have to take a rain check Sam. Sorry about that. In any case, dinner is on me. I've ordered and had a 1996 bottle of Chteau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac charged to my credit card, so you guys go ahead and enjoy yourselves." Liz said a little too generously.

Damn. No chance of getting out of it now.

Jordan had been guilt-tripped into taking Sam to dinner and it was not in Sam's personality to let a $5 fruit juice go to waste, let alone a $200 bottle of wine.


Sam stared out of her passenger seat window, taking in the shimmering leaves as they drove down the tree-lined street. Her thoughts embarking on a journey into the recesses of her memory.

She could just see the glimmer of a shadow of George sitting beside her in the driver's seat as they travelled down a similar tree-lined street on another Valentine's Day in the past.

Was it that long ago that the image in her mind's eye was starting to blur at the edges?

Would she be able to identify the signs in their relationship that would have led to the present day's state of affairs if she scrutinised her past?

Memory is such a fickle thing. It can be embellished or dampened by emotions. Regrettable events have a tendency to resurface unbidden while certain pleasant moments fade and then disappear altogether. Sam wasn't sure if she could trust herself not to tamper with her own memories.

Her memory was failing her again in another aspect. 5 minutes of small talk she could muster, but she couldn't for the life of her remember how to maintain such a conversation for the duration of a meal. She unconsciously bit on her lower lip in ponderance.

"So... How did Liz coerce you into becoming her slave Jordan?" she ventured.