Chapter 1 – Rewrite

Sam couldn't be exactly sure what woke him.

It might have been the slight breeze that was rolling in from the window above his bed. The soft colder air made the hairs on Sam's arm stand up and he found himself reaching for the blanket almost instantly. Years of living in the baking sun of California had made him irritable to even the slightest drop in temperature, a pet peeve that irked Sam to no end.

However, it could have been the empty void that now filled the bed. Lying on his back with his eyes still closed, Sam stretched his left arm to reach the source of heat that was usually radiation heat to him in times of need. Yet no amount of patting around the mattress could deny the fact that the petite blonde was noticeably missing from the bed.

Despite all this, Sam concluded it was probably the loud banging noises that was coming from downstairs that jolted him from sleep.

Whatever the reason, Sam was awake. After turning over to try and induce himself back into the blissful land of dreams and sleep, he accepted that his efforts were futile. His mind had already started to think about all the things he had to do today. He had a habit of making mental lists before he started for the day, it tended to clear the clutter and set him straight when he would otherwise be distracted. That was another tendency of his.

Finally deciding to venture out of the bed, Sam grabbed a loose jumper that was draped over the chair beside his desk. He then stood on the bed, grunting and closed the window. While he walked down the stairs he asked himself why they even had that window. It was hard to get to and when they opened it in the evening before they went to sleep, they always forgot to close it, resulting in a restless and somewhat cranky morning Sam.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he soon realised what the source of the loud noises was. Turning left he could see smoke rising from a pan on the stove while the tap was looking dangerously close to overflowing. His girlfriend was wearing running leggings and a purple workout top that was loosely tucked into the hem of her trousers. She had her hair tied back in a pony-tail and wore her glasses that she only put on when she was working. The mass amount of papers spread out on the kitchen's island and the pen stuck behind her ear, told Sam that she was attempting to multitask, something she wasn't particularly skilled at, especially when it came to cooking.

It wasn't that she was a particularly bad cook, it was just that she had to really concentrate on the task if she was to make it anyway successful.

Sam laughed to himself and could feel the tension easing from his shoulders as he watched Astrid run around the kitchen desperately trying to control all the elements of breakfast. He walked around the island and turned down the heat on the stove, then he turned off the tap and closed the fridge which looked like it had been left open for a while given the lightbulb on the inside was flashing.

Astrid, not realising he had arrived, continued to fret at the oven trying to re-set the timer, but miserably failing, so he wasn't particularly surprised when she jumped slightly as he put his hands on her shoulders. She laughed lightly as he reached around her to set the timer and then stepped into him as he pulled back and wrapped his arms around her.

"Thank you, I'm a complete mess."

"You can say that again." Sam said as he reached his thumb to her cheek and wiped a streak of black oven grease that went from her chin to her cheek. She turned then shifted her body so that her chest was flushed against his and her head could rest on his shoulder. "What are you in such a rush to finish?"

She groaned. "Presentation I have to give to the Baker client on Monday. I think I'd rather cook for the whole company than this to be honest."

"I highly doubt that." He spoke as he leaned down to look at her and found her scowling. "You really hate cooking."

At that she broke out in a grin and laughed into his shoulder. "Think about Bora Bora, think about Bora Bora!" Astrid mumbled while reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Yeah" Sam said, trying to sound nonchalant, but more coming out as uneasy. Unlike Astrid, Bora Bora was the source of stress and anxiety for him. He had been nagging her to book a holiday for nearly a year and when she finally agreed a little over a month before, he decided to put in motion the plan he had been thinking about for years. Yet, that was harder than Sam originally thought it would be. Sneaking around behind Astrid's back was harder than trying to get passed the CIA at times. She took care of the financial books of the house, which meant spending money on supposed, "luxuries" was hard to do without it coming up on a bank account or a statement.

Sam had many sleepless nights worrying that the bank he specifically told not to call, would indeed call. If Astrid answered the phone and realised that Sam had a separate bank account which was providing funds to support his plan, the whole surprise would be ruined and once she found out he was keeping secrets from her, he would be forced to tell her.

It was also anxiety- inducing knowing that the hotel could call or e-mail confirming his alteration to their room on the second night of their stay. The alteration being to make sure the hotel could provide dinner for the room and candles along the windows.

Mixed in with the normal stress and anxiety that came with waiting for Astrid's answer, Sam was a bag of nerves. If he was honest, he couldn't wait for the holiday to be over. Then, regardless of what happened abroad, he could relax knowing it was over and he could stop sneaking around.

"I have bad news by the way." Astrid said, pulling Sam out of his day dream and leaning back on so that his hand automatically came up to rest on her waist. "We have to have dinner with Kate on Wednesday."

"Oh no, Astrid come on. You said that last time was the last time." He began to take his arms away from her waist, but she reached behind and pulled his arms back to their original position, then rested her hands on top of his own.

"I know, I know, but I have to kiss up to her a bit for a while. She has amazing connections."

Kate was Astrid's new boss of about six months. Extremely smart woman with an amazing worth ethic that Sam could only both envy and admire. Astrid knew that for the first while, she would have to make sure she was on Kate's good side if she was to advance in the ways she wanted to. Along with the new position, Kate had moved states with her husband Paul and they found themselves with few friends. Unfortunately for Sam, Astrid had offered to take them out for dinner one night which in turn led to the most boring night of his life. Paul was only twenty-seven, but had little to no personality, didn't like any sports and had a distaste for anything less than luxury. He would always scowl when walking into the lowkey restaurant Sam or Astrid had chosen, but insist he was fine when asked. Sam was fairly confident he wouldn't be seeing them again yet, Paul seemed to like Sam. In fact, he liked Sam so much that they had been out to dinner with them eight times in the last three months.

"I promise, I'll make it up to you." As Astrid spoke, she stood up on her toes and pressed her lips to Sam's. She pulled back quickly, but dragged her hands from where they rested on top of his, up his arms until they reached his neck and then let them tangle into his hair. He took that as an invitation to lean down and kiss her again. When he deepened the kiss by opening his mouth and dragging his tongue over her bottom lip, he was rewarded with a groan that coursed right through him like an electricity bolt. This spurred him on to reach down and place is hands on the back of her thighs and when she didn't protest, he lifted her so she was sitting on top of the island. The movement caused her papers to fall off the side of the countertop, but neither of them seemed to notice or care and made no attempt to stop. He then placed one hand behind her back and other on her calf, urging her to wrap her leg around his waist as she raked her hands down his shoulders. He could feel the atmosphere getting more and more tense as each moment passed and he reached up to tug on the hem of her workout leggings.

But before he could advance any further, he heard the doorbell ring. He groaned in annoyance and felt her smile into the kiss. He pulled back reluctantly and cursed himself for moving when she jumped down almost immediately, indicating that she wasn't going to wait for him to come back. Instead she pat him on the shoulder and pushed him towards the door, then seemed to stop as she looked down to take in his appearance.

"God Sam, you could put some trousers on." She said as she looked him up and down and saw finally acknowledged the fact his was only in his boxer's and the flimsy jumper he had thrown on.

"Nah, not really my style." He said with a grin and popped a grape into his mouth. Breakfast didn't look like it was going to be made any time soon, so he thought he might as well start planning something else to eat.

When he got to the door, he could see through the panes of glass that no one was standing outside. He opened the door and stepped out to see if he could see the person in their driveway or possibly up the road, but when he looked left and right, all he could see was empty streets and his neighbour, Arnold, mowing the lawn.

"Letterbox I think, Sam! Left in a bit of a rush too." Arnold shouted over the sound of the lawn-mover.

"Thanks Arnold." He shouted back as he moved down his drive to reach his letterbox, which did indeed contain something. Sam was at this point vaguely aware that he was only in his underwear, but if Arnold minded, he didn't show it. Sam guessed he was probably use to it living in such a young neighbourhood. In fact, Arnold, in his early 40s, and his wife Betty, of the same age, were probably the oldest residence in the block by about ten years. Also, the fact that Sam had little regard for clothing in general meant Arnold was probably used to it especially because he lived next door to him.

Smiling to himself at the thought, Sam reached into the letterbox and found one, crisp white letter with a red ribbon holding it together. It was addressed to both himself and Astrid, which was rare and looked as if it didn't come with the other mail.

"Too Clean" Sam thought out loud and wandered back into the house.