“Sam does like to see the best in people. Everybody, not just me.”
Blake’s assessment of Samantha rang true. She struck me as one of the most guileless people I’d ever met. But I didn’t believe she saw Blake simply as a reclamation project, a chance to show that her empathy and patience could outlast anything he could throw her way. When Sam and Blake were together and things were good between them, she did smooth his rough edges. She brought things out in Blake—patience, calmness, sensitivity—that no one else did. And Blake helped tether Samantha to the ground, helped her appear less naive. Despite everything they’d been through as a couple, they struck me as a good match, the best I’d ever seen Blake part of.
And what would happen if Sam saw a note written by Blake pledging his devotion to another woman?
It would be awkward and strange for them. For Sam.
But not worth ending a relationship over.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and saw a text from Amanda.
Are you coming soon? Sleepy baby.
Sorry. Hurrying.
“Just ask for the letters back?” I asked as I put the phone away.
“I’ve tried that. Many times. But she won’t really take my calls anymore. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve called her or talked to her. We’re at loggerheads. She won’t budge. As the wedding approaches . . . I just don’t want anything to blow this for Sam and me. We’re almost to the finish line.”
Maybe I was slow off the mark. Maybe the wheels in my mind didn’t turn as quickly as they should have.
Maybe I just couldn’t comprehend that Blake would ask me for the kind of thing he had dreamed up.
But I didn’t see where any of it was going.
I had no idea.
“Do you want me to recommend a lawyer or something?” I asked. “I’m not sure a respectable attorney would get wrapped up in something this insignificant. Or petty. Or whatever you want to call it.”
Like I said, Blake was several steps ahead of me. He shook his head, his eyes slowly closing and then opening again. They remained clear as a mountain stream.
“No, you’re going to get the letters back, Ryan,” he said. “You’re going to go into her house and bring them back to me.”
CHAPTER SIX
I felt my eyes widen. If anyone in the coffee shop had been looking at me, they would have thought I was joking around, making some kind of ridiculous face, the kind of thing I did to entertain Henry at home.
But the emotion was real and genuine. What Blake was saying sounded completely and utterly nuts.
“You want me to go talk to this woman on your behalf? Why? She doesn’t know me—”
But he shook his head. “You’re not going to talk to her, Ryan. It’s past the time for talking. You’re going to go into her house and take the letters. And you’re going to bring them to me so Sam never has to see them. I didn’t say anything about talking to her.”
It seemed as though the music, which had been playing softly over our heads, dropped to an even lower volume. And across the room someone broke out laughing, a sharp, mocking sound that caused me to look their way and then back to Blake.
“You’re crazy,” I said, shaking my head. “Seriously. I have to get home. I can’t believe you dragged me over here for this bullshit.”
Blake acted as though he hadn’t heard me.
“It’s simple,” he said. “Tonight at ten o’clock. She’ll be out. She always is on Thursdays. I know the door code. I know where the letters are. She has a keepsake drawer in her bedroom. The letters were there the last time I was in the house. That was a few weeks ago. They’ve always been in there. I should have taken them, but it would be too obvious. You just go over, go in, and get them. Easy as pie.”
“You want me to break into a complete stranger’s house?”
“Not break in, Ryan.” Now he shook his head at me. “I said I know the code. At least, I think I do. Unless she’s changed it.” He scratched his chin distractedly for a moment. “But you just go in. No breaking in. No busting down doors. Nothing like that. And you’re not stealing her TV or her computer. Just taking the letters I wrote. They’re my property, really. They’re my words.”
“If you go into someone’s home without permission, it’s breaking in. Even if you know the door code. The cops won’t make that distinction. Besides, maybe she’s scanned or copied the letters already. It could all be for nothing.”
“I can’t take any chances.”
“Why don’t you do it?” I asked. “Why drag me down into your mess?”
“I can’t. What if someone saw me? What if something went wrong, and I got caught? Then it would all come out. And Sam’s parents . . . her dad . . . even the smallest hint of impropriety, and he’d lose his mind. I can’t have that happen. Not when Sam and I are so close to the finish line.”
“But I can? I can risk getting caught? You think it’s okay if I get arrested. I have a child. A wife.”
“You won’t get caught, Ryan. And I know I can trust you. I’d ask someone else, but who else can I count on as much as you? You’re one of the few honest people I know. Shit, maybe the only one. You and Sam. But I can’t ask her.”
“If I get caught breaking into someone’s house—my job, my reputation. What would people think of me? What would Amanda think of me?”
“That’s why you’ll be careful. And you’ll do it right.”
I picked up my mug and drank without thinking. The coffee had turned lukewarm and too bitter. I almost spit it out, but I choked it down and pushed the mug away with the back of my hand.
“It’s been nice seeing you again, Blake,” I said, although I no longer felt that way. “I guess. I know you don’t want advice, but since we’re friends, I feel compelled to offer some. Just talk to Sam. Start your marriage in a good place, with none of this craziness. That’s the best shot you’ve got. Not this cloak-and-dagger shit that can only lead to more problems.”
I scooted my chair back again, but before I could stand, Blake’s hand came across the table, landing on top of mine like a handcuff. I felt the coolness of his skin, the roughness of his palm. He locked eyes with me.
“Are you going to do that with Amanda, Ryan?” he asked. “Are you going to go home tonight and sit down with her while your son sleeps in his nice room upstairs and wipe the slate clean? Are you going to tell her everything she doesn’t know about you? She’s pretty no-nonsense. She’s a tough nut.”