Chapter Six

“Samantha! Samantha from Christmas Eve Samantha?” Richie sounded pleased to hear from her, and Sam felt herself relax slightly.

“That’s me,” she managed to keep her voice steady. “Am I calling at a bad time?

“No, no, not at all,” Richie replied earnestly. “How are you?

“Well, I’m just fine actually. I had a great few weeks off,” she paused. ‘And Christmas Eve was pretty nice as well.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I rather enjoyed myself that night too.”

“Thanks again for taking us out, it was absolutely amazing,” Samantha said sincerely.

“Hey, you are most certainly welcome. It was an honor to spend the evening with such lovely ladies.”

Samantha blushed. “Thank you.”

There was a brief pause.

“So how are you?” she broke the silence.

“Just as good! I had a good holiday too, and am definitely enjoying the down time before we tour again.”

“Oh, that’s right – when will that be? This year?”

“Yep, hopefully at the end of summer we can announce the first leg of U.S. dates. Then it’s on to Canada, Europe, and Australia.”

“Ah, so you’re finally returning to Australia?”

Richie laughed, an easy sound that sent shivers up Sam’s spine. “Yeah, I actually persuaded Jon to include them this time. The poor Aussies have been left out enough.”

“I know for a fact they’re going to be thrilled to hear that news. The Australian fan club members always talk about how they wish you’d come down under.”

“Yeah, Matt told us,” he chuckled. “He said they started a support thread on the post board that was twenty pages long!”

Samantha laughed, surprised. “Does Matt always tell you about what we say on the board?”

“Not always. But the posts certainly don’t go unnoticed.”

“That’s good to hear. Do you ever get on the board?”

“Yes, actually, more often than people think. Jon’s the one who does the occasional letter, you know, but I check up on you all every once in awhile.”

“Oh.” Samantha suddenly felt embarrassed, remembering the comments and pictures in the Samboraholics thread in the pictures forum.

“You know, I wasn’t sure you were going to call,” Richie said after a moment. He said it good-naturedly, but Samantha flinched slightly all the same.

“To be quite honest with you, I wasn’t sure I was going to either.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” Richie’s voice softened. “Listen, I know this whole situation is a bit…strange, but I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me sometime. If it makes you feel more comfortable, we can go somewhere out of the public eye.”

In spite of herself, Samantha giggled. “Somewhere out of the public eye in New York?”

“I know a few places,” Richie said slyly.

Samantha hesitated, but the words came out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“I’d love to. Where and when?”

“Well, ah, how about tomorrow night, actually?”

Samantha’s heart skipped a beat.

“Um, yeah, actually, I am free. I can be ready by six,” she mentally estimated her schedule the next day.

“How about I pick you up around seven? We can go to Giorgio’s - it’s a great Italian place overlooking Central Park. I know the owner,” Richie waited for her reply.

“That sounds great. I love Italian food. So…you need my address, right?”

Duh, you idiot, she rolled her eyes at herself.

“Yeah, it might help,” Richie teased, and Sam smiled in spite of herself. “I have a pen and paper – shoot.”

Sam gave him her address and home phone number.

“Great, thanks! Well, listen, I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

“Okay,” Samantha smiled.

“Have a great rest of the day.”

“You too!”

“Thanks,” Richie said, a smile in his voice. “See you later!”

“See you later,” Samantha repeated. After a second she heard a click, and, shaking, she returned the phone to the cradle.

She sat there for a moment, as the reality of it all sank in.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!” she screamed, jumping out of her chair and causing Marge, who was passing by, to jump and scatter papers all over the hallway.

“What’s wrong, Miss West?!” she asked, alarmed.

“Oh, I’m sorry Marge, here, let me help you,” Samantha laughed and rushed over to help the secretary pick up the papers. “Nothing is wrong,” she said, grinning broadly. “Everything is amazing! Everything is wonderful! I have a date with – “

She stopped herself quickly. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to announce to the public that she had a date with one of the biggest rock stars in the world just yet. Aside from the potential trouble it could cause, she didn’t feel like answering a thousand questions right now.

Marge eyed her curiously.

“With – a guy,” Samantha finished cautiously. “A really sweet guy,” she smiled again, and, handing Marge the last paper, she bounded back into her office, leaving the baffled secretary in the hallway.

______________________

“Not that, you’ll look like a schoolgirl.” Alex frowned at the blouse Samantha held up.

It was late Wednesday afternoon, and with less than an hour to go until Richie picked her up, Samantha was increasingly nervous. She had called Alex over to help her find the perfect outfit, and they had already exhausted half the clothes in Sam’s closet.

“Gee, thanks, you never told me that when I wore this top before,” Samantha made a face and returned the shirt to the hanger.

“That’s because you were never wearing it on a date before,” Alex replied casually. “Tonight’s different. You have a date with an international rock star. You gotta look sexy, be sexy, and feel sexy. No, not that one either,” she dismissed a black halter top Sam pulled out. “That’s too Friday-night-club.”

Sam sighed and rolled her eyes. “You pick one, then.” She moved back to let Alex into the closet.

“Ugh, I’m so nervous,” she said, for what felt like the hundredth time that night, as Alex began looking through her clothes. “What if I spill something on myself? What if I get something stuck in my teeth and don’t know? We’re having Italian – it’s more than likely I’ll get some teeny piece of oregano or parsley sticking between my front teeth.”

“Bring floss,” Alex suggested, flipping through Sam’s tops.

“And what, just start a dental hygiene routine right there at the table?”

Alex snorted. “No, you nerd, go to the bathroom.”

“Yeah but I won’t know I have anything stuck in my teeth, will I? So what am I supposed to do – go to the bathroom ten times to make sure there’s nothing there?”

“Bring a compact.”

“I’m not going to pull out a compact and check my teeth at the table! ‘Oh yeah, can you hang on a second, Richie? I need to pick my teeth.’ That’s gross!”

“Then don’t worry about getting anything stuck in your teeth!”

“But what if something does? He’ll think I’m the most disgusting person on the face of the planet.”

“Sam, you are being ridiculous,” Alex sounded exasperated. “Shut up and try this on,” she handed Samantha a cream-colored cashmere sweater with a scooped neck. “It’ll bring out your eyes…and your breasts.”
Samantha snatched the sweater away in mock insult and marched into the bathroom. “Yeah, well, I don’t want to bring my breasts out too much and have him stare at them all night,” she called over her shoulder.

Alex smirked. “Honey, he’s going to anyway.”

Sam emerged from the bathroom a minute later, looking stunning in the sweater, and Alex whistled. “Perfect. Now, we’re running out of time – I’m going to find you a pair of nice pants, and you go do your makeup.”

“Yes, boss,” Sam joked, returning to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, Samantha walked into the living room looking picture-perfect. Alex had found a pair of black dress pants that hugged Sam’s hips and hung down her legs to hide mid-calf-length black boots. She was wearing a thin silver chain that accessorized perfectly with her sweater, and matching silver threads dangled from her ears. Her golden hair tumbled down around her shoulders in soft waves and curls, and her makeup was light and natural, accentuating her bright eyes.

Alex whistled, “Girl, he’s gonna fall all over himself when he sees you.”

Samantha blushed and smiled. “I just hope the night goes smoothly.”

“It will. Just breathe and stay calm. And remember, I’m going to be here when he brings you home, so no hanky panky, young lady,” she teased.

Sam’s eyes widened and she laughed. “Alex! We barely know each other!”

“Yeah well, he is a rock star,” Alex winked.

Just then, the doorbell rang, and Sam felt her heart rate pick up. “Well, he’s right on time,” she noted. “That’s a good sign.”

“Yes, yes, his punctuality is admirable. Are you going to let him in?”

Samantha walked over, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Richie Sambora stood on the threshold, holding a bouquet of red roses and looking so handsome Samantha didn’t know what to say. Her eyes traveled the full length of him – he was wearing a light brown leather coat, layered over a black long-sleeved shirt left unbuttoned halfway up his chest. His long legs were clad in slightly faded jeans that fit his form unnervingly well, and black leather boots completed his suave appearance.

“Evening, miss,” he grinned good-naturedly. “You look beautiful.”

Samantha smiled back at him.

“Well, you look great yourself,” she said. “And thank you. Would you like to come in for a minute?”

“Sure,” Richie stepped into the apartment. “These are for you,” he said, presenting the roses to her.

“Oh, thank you,” Samantha blushed and took the bouquet. “They’re beautiful!”

She buried her nose in them and inhaled deeply. “Oh, and they’re so fragrant. I’m going to go put these in some water really quick.” As she turned toward the kitchen, she caught sight of Alex, who smiled and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh my gosh,” Sam stopped. “I’m so sorry – Richie, you remember my friend Alex, don’t you? She was there on Christmas Eve too.”

“Of course I remember,” Richie smiled at Alex. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great! And yourself?”

Samantha listened to the small talk from the kitchen with a tiny twinge of jealousy as she filled a vase with water and put the gorgeous roses on display in the center of the table. She wasn’t jealous that the two were talking – but how in the world was Alex so calm, cool, and collected? She made it look so easy, but Sam’s insides seemed to have become host to a thousand butterflies.

She walked back into the living room and Richie gave her a heart-stopping smile.

“You ready to go? The limo’s waiting outside.”

Samantha stopped. “Limo?” she stared.

Richie laughed. “Yeah, I’m afraid Jon has the private jet tonight.” He winked at her.

“Oh,” she paused, then giggled. “Yeah, I’m just about ready…where’s my purse?”

Alex handed it to her as the two started to walk out the door.

“Have fun you two!” she quipped. “Be good! Sam!” she whispered to her friend as she started to follow Richie out the door. Sam stopped and leaned toward her. “What?”

“Try to enjoy yourself, okay? Don’t be so nervous.”

Samantha nodded. “I think I’ll be okay,” she said, and started to walk out again.

“You will. Oh, and Sam?”

Sam stopped and turned.

“I stuck some floss in your purse. Just in case.”

_______________________

Giorgio’s was a sophisticated new restaurant, situated at the top of a building tower overlooking Central Park. The interior was decorated in modern Italian art; the ambience was worldly, young, intellectual. There were tables draped in dark burgundy cloths, as well as private booths with matching soft leather seats. The ground was covered in tan flagstone, and lighting fixtures hung from the high ceiling, giving the place a warm glow.

Richie escorted Samantha through the golden-framed glass doors at the entrance, and the host recognized him immediately.

“Mr. Sambora!” he acknowledged. “What a pleasure. How are you this evening?”

“Just fine, Francisco, thank you,” Richie replied. “Is Antonio here tonight?”

“He is, indeed, Mr. Sambora. Would you like me to get him for you?”

“Oh, not now, thank you. Right now we’d just like to eat.”

Francisco smiled and picked up two menus. “Booth or table tonight, Mr. Sambora?”

Richie glanced over at Samantha. “Booth, please.”

Francisco led them to the back of the restaurant, to a booth near the paneled windows that ran from ceiling to floor. The view was breathtaking, and Samantha found herself staring as she found her seat. Richie slid in next to her, angling himself on one side of the bench curve so they could face each other.

Francisco handed each of them a menu. “Your server will be with you momentarily,” he said. “Enjoy your meal.”

The server appeared seconds later, welcoming them to the restaurant and asking for their drink orders.

“Do you like wine?” Richie asked Samantha.

“Oh yes,” she replied. “I don’t usually like dry wine, but otherwise I’ll drink it.”

“May I suggest the Koehler Syrah then? It’s smooth, full-bodied, and fruity.”

Samantha blinked. “Uh, yes, please, that sounds great,” she told the server.

Richie ordered himself a Chardonnay, and as soon as the server left, Samantha stared at him.

“I didn’t know you knew so much about wines.”

Richie chuckled. “Yeah, a lot of people don’t know that about me.”

“What in the world did you just order me?”

“The Koehler Syrah?”

“I’ve never even heard of it.”

“It’s an excellent wine – it goes really well with pastas and tomato dishes.”

“I knew that.”

Richie grinned. “So, any idea what you’re going to have to eat?”

“Well, I’m thinking a pasta or tomato dish.” Samantha winked at him.

They perused the menus for a few minutes before deciding. Samantha was going to have angel hair pasta tossed with butter, garlic, and a light tomato sauce; Richie a sautéed chicken marsala.

When they gave their orders, Antonio came up to the table and Richie rose to meet him. They shook hands, and Richie introduced Samantha. They chatted briefly before Antonio had to tend to business, bidding them a good evening and a wonderful meal before he left.

“So that’s the owner?” Samantha asked as Richie sat down.

“Yeah, he’s a great guy. I try to come in here every once in awhile to give him business. New York City’s a tough place to keep a good restaurant running.”

“Well, the place is beautiful. If the food’s good, I can’t see how they could be struggling.”

“Oh, they’re not struggling. They’re doing very well. But I still like to show my support, you know? And trust me, the food’s great.”

While they waited for their food, Richie watched Samantha. Her eyes caught the golden light whenever she moved, making them sparkle and twinkle. He liked what he saw in her: a beautiful, charming, kind woman, but also an intelligence that made her more attractive than most women he had met in his career. She seemed to move through life with a confidence in herself and others, and that was refreshing to him. Although she had been obviously nervous on Christmas Eve, she seemed much more comfortable tonight, which told him it would be easier to get to know her better.

“So, Samantha, what do you do?” he asked her, realizing he hadn’t the faintest idea what she did for a living.

“I’m actually the executive editor for Dream magazine,” she replied. “I’ve been there for five years; I started right after my studies.”

Richie looked impressed. “Very nice,” he mused. “That’s a very reputable publication. I like their work.”

He saw a touch of pride in her eyes at his words. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome. What exactly do you do as an editor?”

“I pretty much handle everything related to design and content.”

“Are you the only editor?”

“Oh no, not at all. I’m the executive editor, but there’s the editor-in-chief, who’s my boss. And then of course there are heads of department, some of which include page editors or feature editors. But they only manage sections of the magazine, and their decisions go through myself and the editor-in-chief before publication.”

“Wow, so you really do oversee everything. That’s a lot of work.”

“Yeah, it is. But I love my job, you know. It’s great to work with such enthusiastic people, and it’s really rewarding when you finally see the finished product out on shelves and magazine stands.”

“I’ll bet it is,” Richie remarked.

The server arrived then, placing piping hot plates of food in front of each of them. As they ate, they continued the conversation, each becoming more and more comfortable around the other.

“So have you always wanted to be a journalist?” Richie asked her.

“Pretty much. Ever since I was little.”

“Very cool – so it’s definitely something you love.”

“Oh, absolutely. I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

“Did you move here for work? Or have you always lived here?”

“Nah, I’m a native New Yorkah,” Sam joked, playing up her natural accent. “Been here all my life and don’t have any plans to leave.”

“But you’ve been outside New York, right? I mean, you’ve traveled around and been to other places?”

“Like, New Jersey?” she smirked at him.

Richie stifled a hoot of laughter. “Well, yes, like New Jersey, but I was thinking more like other countries.”

“Well, then, yes, I’ve been outside of New York, but never outside of the States. I’ve always wanted to see Italy, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m fascinated with the culture. I wanted to study abroad there in college, but my parents couldn’t afford it. NYU is very expensive, you know.”

“NYU?”

“Yep, followed by graduate studies at Columbia.”

Richie’s eyes widened, impressed. “Wow, so you know what you’re doing.”

“You could say that.”

There was a brief pause.

“So…you’re about thirty, yes?”

Samantha looked at him in surprise. “How did you guess that?”

“Well, you said you’ve been at the magazine for five years, right out of college. You did graduate studies, which take two years generally, after four years in a university, presumably, which would mean you got into editing at twenty-five. Thus, five years later, you’re thirty. Am I right?”

Samantha stared at him. “Wow, you really know what you’re doing too.”

Richie winked. “You could say that.”

They continued in this vein for some time, until the food was eaten, the wine drunk, and the bill paid. Their exchange was easy, light and comfortable, and Samantha found herself opening up to him more than she thought she would on their first date. Richie didn’t seem to have any hidden agenda, she noticed, and that reassured her. He was a perfect gentleman, and she admired that.

He turned to her suddenly. “Are you ready to go?”

Samantha seemed a bit surprised at his bluntness, but nodded politely. They got up and made their way to the door, but when they reached the limo outside, Richie stopped her.

“Actually, we’re not leaving yet,” he said. “I have a surprise for you. Follow me.”

Curious, Samantha followed Richie as he led her away from the limo and down the tree-lined sidewalk a bit. A fine, light snow was falling, and Samantha crossed her arms against the cold. She hadn’t brought a coat, and hoped that wherever they were going was warm.

She quickened her step a bit to catch up with Richie as he led her across the street to the park. They walked toward a brilliant fountain sending sparkling mist into the cold air, and as they came closer, Samantha noticed a horse-drawn carriage waiting in front of it.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. When they reached the carriage, Richie turned to her and smiled.

“Your carriage awaits, my lady,” he said, bowing. Her eyes moved along the beautiful snow-white Clydesdale to the royal blue carriage, and she smiled happily.

“Wow, Richie, this is amazing.”

“Why don’t you get in and I’ll be right there,” he said, helping her up. She took his warm hand and stepped up onto the seat, and he moved to the front of the carriage to speak with the driver.

When he came back, he hopped up onto the seat next to her and pulled the thick white blanket over both of them. The driver clucked the horse into motion, and they began a romantic ride through Central Park.

The trees were bare, glistening with new-fallen snow, and the grass was frosted and icy, creating a sheet of white all around them. The sky was dark gray, and snow continued to fall silently, floating through the cold air and settling lightly on the ground. Lantern posts and string lights in the trees that had yet to be taken down shone warmly, making the snowflakes dance in the golden glow.

As they went along, Samantha shivered slightly, and Richie put an arm around her. Her heart skipped a beat at his touch, and she boldly leaned into him, feeling the warmth from his body and the blanket radiating onto her.

They sat in near silence for most of the ride, each lost in the winter wonderland that was the park, and admiring the beauty of the snow-dusted scenery. Toward the end, they passed a group of violinists playing a melody in a small gazebo. The smooth notes drifted out across the clear, cold air, making the carriage ride even more enchanting.

“That’s beautiful,” Samantha murmured.

“Yes it is,” Richie said, not entirely meaning the music or the park.

They rode around the park for an hour, the horse’s harness bells jingling merrily and making Samantha wish Christmas wasn’t over. The scene was so beautiful, so perfect, so quaint, and she reveled in the peacefulness of it all.

When they arrived back at the fountain, Richie helped Samantha down from the carriage. She stroked the horse’s nose, speaking softly to him as Richie paid the driver and thanked him, then they walked back together across the street to where the limo was waiting.

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up in front of Samantha’s apartment building, and Richie walked her inside to her apartment. Outside the front door, in the hallway, she turned to him.

“Richie, thank you so much for everything. I had a wonderful time tonight.”

Richie smiled. “I’m glad. I did too.”

“The carriage ride was a wonderful touch,” she smiled. “I’ve never experienced anything so peaceful and romantic.”

“I thought you might like it,” Richie looked into her eyes. He stepped closer to her, and Samantha felt her heartbeat speed up.

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

Samantha looked into his deep brown eyes and felt something stir in the pit of her stomach. No shit mister, she thought. We better see each other again.

“Absolutely.”

Richie smiled. “Good. I’ll call you, okay?”

Samantha nodded. For a fleeting moment, she thought he would kiss her, but he merely looked at her.

“I should probably say good night now.” He surprised her by taking her hand and kissing it gently. “Sweet dreams, Samantha.”

She blushed. “You too, Mr. Sambora.”

Richie grinned and backed toward the elevator. Samantha watched him as he stepped inside and turned around to face her. They watched each other until the doors closed and he was out of sight.

Samantha turned back toward the front door and took a deep breath, smiling. She unlocked the door and pushed it open, to find the TV on and Alex asleep on the couch. Tommy and Gina were curled up next to her, but as Samantha walked inside, they stretched and came over to her, tails wagging.

She kneeled down and hugged them, then took off her boots and set her purse on the table.

Alex stirred, and, opening one eye, caught sight of Samantha. She jumped up so fast she scared both dogs, and Samantha laughed.

“You’re home! Yay! Oh my gosh how was it?”

Samantha looked at her and smiled.

“Perfect,” she answered. “Absolutely perfect.”