Page 4 of Perfectly Wrong

“Look, I’ve got to get going. Tomorrow is a big day for my team, and we have a lot to do from now on. I promise we’re going to create the best marketing plan for you, Sam. We want you to grow in the industry and become one of the biggest artists out there.” A genuine smile spread across his face. It was cute. “Think about what I said; open your heart and mind. You can do this.”

I gave him a kiss on the cheek, like I would probably do with a nephew. He offered to take me home, but that wasn’t necessary. I ordered a cab and stepped out into the cold Toronto night, counting the seconds until I could finally see my bed again.

The following week felt like hell, and when Friday finally arrived, I was ready to set off fireworks. After endless hours of Jeremy trying to teach me how to do my job, all I wanted was to go home, eat something, take a long bath, and hibernate in bed until Monday. My plan was to not even get up for food, which was very unlike me, but I was utterly exhausted and needed the rest. And just so you know, Sam Martin didn’t show his face at the office for the rest of the week.

I kicked off my shoes in the foyer and walked barefoot to the kitchen. My stomach had been grumbling for a while, and I figured I should take care of it before my hibernation began. I wouldn’t take too long—just a sandwich and some wine would suffice. I lit a candle by the fridge, placing it atop a wooden box where I kept my tea. The scent of lavender quickly filled the room, and I breathed in deeply, allowing the first hints of peace to wash over me.

I opened the fridge and pulled out some ham and catupiry, along with the wine. If you’ve never heard of catupiry, it’s time for a little education. Have you ever tasted cream cheese? That delightful stuff we all know? Well, catupiry is even better! Imagine cream cheese made for humans, while catupiry is made for the divine. When Jesus came to Earth, He likely said, “Son, take this recipe with you and leave it somewhere,” and He left it in Brazil. Just so you know, catupiry is lightly processed cheese that complements just about everything. They put it on pizza, hot dogs, and it tastes divine in any dish. Every time I visit the Brazilian market around the corner, I spend a shameful amount on it, but I have no regrets—it’s always worth it.

I took a spoonful of catupiry and spread it on the bread I had left sliced on the counter. A few slices of ham later, and it was perfect. The first bite was pure ecstasy! It was so good that I immediately forgot about the stressful week I’d just endured, the team working tirelessly and blindly each day. I didn’t waste any time moving to the table; I simply stood there, savoring the wonderful sensation of food settling in my stomach.

About fifteen minutes after I got home, the doorbell rang, interrupting my blissful moment. Who the hell was brave enough to disrupt my peace? A shiver ran down my spine. It couldn’t be! Noah wasn’t stupid enough to come to my house, knowing full well I’d call the cops. Besides, he was in jail—it wasn’t even possible. The doorbell rang again. I took a deep breath, leaving my sandwich on the plate, and approached the front door. Still a bit traumatized, I sneaked a peek through the small glass pane above the door.

“What the heck?” Thank God, Noah wasn’t on the other side! Instead, it was… “Sam? What are you doing here?” I asked, opening the door.

“Hey!” He greeted me with a charming smile, adjusting the guitar strap on his shoulder. “I was passing by and thought I’d repay your visit. Plus, I have a new song, and I’d love your input.”

I was completely taken aback. What the heck was happening?

“Okay, first of all, you weren’t just passing by. You live pretty far from here, and I don’t believe in coincidences, especially when you happen to have a new song to show me. Also, I don’t babysit in my spare time.”

He laughed and tilted his head, unfazed by my rudeness. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

To my rational side, the right answer was “No, man, go away and leave me alone!” But my parents raised me to be more polite than I wanted to be, so I stepped aside for him to come in. As he walked past me, I inhaled his scent and felt a bit dizzy for a second. Despite being at the peak of his eighteen years, Sam’s cologne was different—unique, unlike anything I had encountered before. I shook my head and dismissed the thought before closing the door.

“And by the way,” he was saying, “I’m grown, okay? I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Great,” I grunted, heading back to the kitchen. Not even Sam Martin could stand between me and dinner, no matter how good he smelled.

“Sorry, I guess I came at a bad time.”

“No worries. Help yourself if you want.” I gestured to the ingredients still on the counter.

“Thanks, but I ate on the way.”

I nodded, and the kitchen fell into silence. As I finished eating my sandwich, I noticed a curious Sam Martin standing a few meters behind me, looking around and taking in every detail of my house.

“Okay, so… how can I help? You said you have a new song to show me?”

“You’ve got a nice little house,” he said with a shy smile. “Very cozy.”

I had no idea how to tell him that yes, it was a nice, cozy place that I could only truly enjoy once he left and let me relish my solitude and my bathtub. Goddamn politeness!

I brought him to the living room and gestured toward the couch. Before making himself comfortable, he respectfully waited for me to sit on the other couch. It was starting to get to me how he could be so good-looking, smell so amazing, and still be a gentleman all at once. He cleared his throat, getting my attention, and I nodded for him to begin.

“Well, the song isn’t finished yet. I was hoping you could share some ideas for it.”

“I don’t know if I can contribute much, Sam,” I admitted. “No false modesty here—I’m good at writing, but I’ve never been involved in songwriting. There are some nuances in that area that I obviously don’t master.”

“Just listen.” He winked as he said it, which was quite attractive, I might add.

His fingers started to pluck the strings, creating a light, almost cheerful melody. I watched his large hands skillfully sliding over the instrument when his voice filled the room.

“I saw you for the first time / in a faraway coffee shop / You just looked at me once / My heart sped up and my hands shook / and that was enough.”

Coffee shop? Looked at him once? What the…

“You asked your friends about me / and that was more than I could expect / Because I’ve been asking about you / not knowing you were already in my head.”

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