Promise Me, page 5
He starts walking towards me again, causing me to move backwards until I reach the wall. He stops just an inch or two away from me, never breaking eye contact. "I think I may have waited too long," he says. I open my mouth to say something back to him, but he puts up his hand to wave me to stop before I even start. He's so close and for a split second I want to forget everything and just kiss him senseless. I lick my lips in anticipation, bringing his gaze to momentarily focus on them before he breaks the silence between us.
"Sabrina, it's no secret how I feel about you. I've wanted to say something to you sooner, but it never seemed to be the right time. I'm sorry if I've made a mess of things between us, but I just couldn't wait any longer."
His eyes show a trace of defeat in them. It makes me want to tell him how I wish things were different between us. It makes me want to not get on that plane in a couple of days. It makes me close the gap between us and pull his lips to mine. His lips taste like the most decadent wine I've ever tasted. One of his hands frames my face, while the other has wrapped around the back of my neck to keep me in place. Unlike the kiss from earlier, which was soft and slow, this one is full of desperation. Taking one more step forward, he pins my back to the wall. He takes his hand from my face and runs it slowly down my neck, collarbone, and over my chest until it rests on my hip. All the while our tongues are dancing, finding a rhythm of their own.
Suddenly, he stops and pulls away. "As much as I want you right now, I think it's for the best if we stop," he says and dips his head so that his forehead is resting against mine.
"I'm sorry Alex, I didn't mean to get so carried away."
Grinning at me, he puts his finger lightly on my lips. "I'm not sorry at all. I've wanted that to happen since the very first time I met you."
He takes his finger away and moves back a bit, putting some much needed space between us. "Alex, I think you deserve to know that I do feel something for you, but..."
What do I say? I don't want to really tell him about my trip or about the whole Tyler obsession, so I find myself right back at square one.
"You don't have to say anything to me. Go on your trip. How about we discuss it when you come back."
His smile never leaves his face, making it easier for me to take the temporary olive branch he offered and just nod at his request. He steps further away from me and tips his head slightly, motioning me to leave the alcove. Before leaving him, I turn and say, "Thank you, Alex." Pivoting back towards the hallway, I make my way back to my office, pick up my purse and practically run out the door.
Driving home, my mind is racing at a mile a minute. I can't believe the disaster I have just created for myself. I punch my steering wheel with the palm of my hand, wanting to kick myself over everything with Chris and Lisa, Tyler, and now, Alex.
What is wrong with me? I have the opportunity to pursue something with Alex but what do I do instead? I run like a scaredy-cat in the opposite direction like I do with every other potential relationship in my life before him. I feel a slight panic run through me at the thought of how my past has taken over my entire life, shaping a lot of my decisions. Something's got to give… soon.
I take a few calming breaths before I decide to turn the radio on. The opening bars of Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic" are just starting. I let the song's slow building crescendo seep into me and feel more and more relaxed with every word. I pull into my driveway as the last few lyrics flow from my speakers and sit there for a few seconds before I turn the car off, letting the song wash over me like an antidote to what ails me. Walking inside the house, I head straight to my bedroom, ignoring Julia completely. Closing the door behind me, I fall face first on my bed and mentally replay the lyrics I just heard.
I let the words soothe me until I feel my eyelids grow heavy. I kick off my shoes and wrap the blanket around me, not bothering to even take off my dress. I wish that I can make a decision for once in my life without feeling insecure or even slightly afraid of the consequences. I want more than anything to let go and… just live. Just as I'm about to fall asleep, my cell phone vibrates. I reach over to my night stand to grab it and look at the screen. It's a text message from Alex.
Thank you for giving me a chance...
I stare at it for a moment or two before throwing the phone back on my night stand in defeat. Fuck my life.
The sound of Julia's light tapping on my door wakes me up. I don't want to move, so I just tell her to come in. She walks over to the bed and takes a seat beside me.
"That bad?" She asks.
"You have no idea."
She lifts up my blanket to take a peek and sees that I'm still wearing my dress from the night before. "What the hell happened?"
I give her the recap after she left me high and dry before adding, "Thanks so much for throwing me under the bus." She flips her blonde hair and bats her lashes, giving me her best "who me" look.
"How was I supposed to know you'd end up shoving your tongue down his throat all on your own? Which, by the way, nice job," she says and then lifts her hand to give me a fist bump. When I don't raise mine to meet hers, she looks disappointed. Not one to give up so easily, she reaches over to my arm and forces my hand into a fist to meet hers. "That's better."
"Julia, my head feels like it's going to explode. I'm leaving tomorrow for my ten year reunion which will bring me face to face with Chris and Lisa, and maybe Tyler. If all that stress wasn't enough, now I have Alex to worry about."
I prop up on my elbows when it dawns on me that Julia is still in her pajamas and it's a weekday. She's usually up and about, if not, already out the door by this time.
"Why are you still home anyway?"
"I'm taking the day off, and so are you missy."
Before I can argue my way out of whatever she has planned, she quickly dismisses me and says, "I don't want to hear it. My best friend needs me today. I've already called the gallery for you to let them know you'll be taking an extra day today. As for me, well, what good is being the boss if I can't take a mental day when I need to."
I'm relieved that I don't have to go anywhere today. I drop back down into my bed and curl myself up in a ball under the comforter.
"Um, what are you doing? Just because I said I called the gallery for you doesn't mean I intend to watch you sleep the day away. We have plans today."
"I'm going to sulk."
"No, you're not. Get your ass up and in the shower. We have a spa appointment at The Biltmore in about an hour, on me."
Right before she stands up, she slaps me on my behind and starts to run out of my room before I can retaliate. I stay put, going over in my mind everything from last night with Alex. It's like a twisted cosmic joke that in all the time I've known him he decides now is the right time to make his move. If not for the fact that I am leaving tomorrow, I'm fairly certain I would throw aside my reservations about pursuing a relationship with my boss. I glance over at my cell phone and I feel tempted to text him back something flirtatious but common sense holds me back. At this point, encouraging this situation further would not be wise on my part so I resist the urge. Instead, I reluctantly kick the comforter off of me then traipse out of my room and into the shower. Once I'm done and wrapped in my robe, I amble my way into the kitchen where Julia is waiting for me with a fresh mug of coffee.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome," she says as she leans against the counter.
"So, The Biltmore, huh?"
"Yup. Then, after a day of pampering, we're going to Frankie's for your favorite pizza. Then, come home and watch as many Felicity episodes as it takes to cheer you up."
"I love you," I say while smiling at her and take a seat at the table to drink my coffee. She walks towards me, pinching my right cheek and says, "Ditto."
We sit in silence for a few minutes, until she gets up and makes her way back to her room to get dressed. Taking my last sip of coffee, I get up to grab a refill and catch a glimpse of the invitation for the reunion that is being held up by a magnet on our refrigerator. I peel it out from under the magnet carefully and put it on the counter in front of me. Just like all the times before, my heart starts to beat so quickly that I can almost feel the blood running through my own veins. My eyes scan over the embossed words slowly. The whole time thinking of what I would say to him all these years later.
"He's going to be there. I can feel it," Julia says when she makes her way back into the kitchen. She perches her chin on my shoulder so she can look at the invite that's lying on the counter in front of me. "Come on, go get yourself ready for the spa. No talking about dickhead, the whore, Sawyer, or Willy Wonka for the rest of the day. And that's an order," she demands as she reaches around me and snatches the invitation. My lord, she has nicknames for everyone. I shake my head and do as I'm told while she tacks it back to the refrigerator door.
Our morning at the spa was luxurious and relaxing. Julia and I both received an aromatherapy massage, followed by our favorite mango manicure and pedicure. When we settle back into her car a couple of hours later, I'm fairly certain I've never felt more relaxed before in my life. So much so, that while she weaves in and out of traffic, it lulls me to sleep. A soft nudging from her alerts me that we've arrived to what I thought was going to be Frankie's, but as I open my eyes, we're actually in front of a boutique in Coconut Grove.
"What are we doing here?"
"Happy Birthday and Merry Christmas, roomie," she says and grabs her purse from the backseat.
"My birthday is not for another two months and Christmas is in December, in case you forgot."
"Oh, I didn't forget. But you're getting all your presents early. You need them today more than you will two months from now," she explains and steps out of the car into the blazing Miami afternoon sun.
I'm still in the car staring at her as she rounds the hood and stops to look back at me. She puts both her hands on her hips and pouts, effectively making me roll my eyes and get out of the car as well.
"Julia, this is too much." The spa alone must have cost her a nice chunk of change.
"Sweetie," she says and takes both my hands in hers. "You need this. Please let me do this for you. I know that if the tables were turned, you would be doing the same thing. God knows, you've helped me through some crazy break ups in the past. Besides, what's the point of making money if you can't spend it while you're still able to enjoy it? Now, come inside and let me buy you a dress that will blow them away."
"I love you," I say to her as sincerely as possible. She is amazing. I don't know what I did in a past life to find her, but whatever it was; it had to have been really good.
She pulls her sunglasses off her eyes, puts them on her head and smiles before pulling me into a hug and ushering me into the boutique. I try on at least a dozen dresses, one after the other, until we both agree on one that is "not too slutty". It's a black, soft satin, almost gauzy material, with no sleeves, that reaches to about mid-thigh. It has a boat neck cut, hugs my body in all the right places and from the front has a very classic and simple look to it. It's the back of the dress that is the show stopper. There is almost none to speak of. The material doesn't start again until about an inch from my waist, leaving almost my entire back on display. According to Julia, a bare back will drive a man wild. Whatever. I love the dress. And if I'm being honest, I do look pretty damn good in it.
"I already have the perfect shoes for it at home," I announce before she feels the need to spend more money on me.
"Ok, then let's go to Frankie's and pick up a pie so we can sit back and crush on Ben for awhile."
"You mean, crush on Noel," I correct her, throwing down the gauntlet yet again. She scoffs at the mere mention of Noel and gives me a sly smile before she says, "You're so lucky I love you too," and we head off to pick up dinner.
Four back to back episodes of Felicity, one large cheese and tomato pizza, and several glasses of red wine later, we're still lazing on the couch discussing the dynamics of our favorite show. It's almost midnight, my flight is just under ten hours away and I have yet to pack one single thing. With that admission, we scramble to my room and start to go through my closet, trying to make the best selections possible given that we are both fairly tipsy at this point. Julia mumbles something under her breath about going to check on something in her room and that she'll be right back, leaving me alone in the eye of the storm, or of what's left of my closet.
Right where I had left it a few weeks ago, the box marked "old stuff" is sitting on its perch. Before switching off the light to my closet, I pull it off the shelf and hunker down right in the middle of a pile of rejected clothes. This time, I immediately open the box and dig out the yearbook. As I flip through the pages, Julia returns and slides down the wall to sit beside me, asking me questions about certain people. When we get to Tyler's picture, I stop and touch my fingers lightly over it.
"Hey," Julia says breaking me out of my trance, "no sulking, remember."
"I know. Just...," I trail off, not sure of exactly what I want to say.
"Just, nothing," she says, "It's all going to be fine, trust me. Now put that away, I have something for you."
She hands me a box that's been wrapped beautifully with a big red bow on top. I carefully tear off the paper and gasp out loud at the sight of the designer's name. I look up at her and see she's sporting a smile from ear to ear.
"Julia, it's too much, I can't take them," trying to hand the box back to her. She puts out her hands to shove them back in my direction.
"Every woman deserves a pair of Louboutin's. Didn't you know that one pair of shoes can change your life, Sabrina."
No, I didn't know that, but I do know that they cost a fortune. I look up at her again and she raises her eyebrow to warn me that there is no way in hell she's going to take no for an answer. I gingerly lift one of the shoes and hold it in my hands as if it were a semi-precious stone. They're black, soft satin, peep toe pumps with an ankle strap that is adorned with a bow… and of course, the trademark red sole.
"Thank you so much, for everything. They are the most beautiful shoes I've ever seen and they're going to look amazing with the dress I'll be wearing. You've made me feel like I'm Cinderella today."
I pull the shoes out and clutch them to my chest, causing the box to fall from my lap lopsided and see about a dozen condoms spill onto the floor. Laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, I grab one and throw it at Julia.
"Yeah, figured you might need those too," she says, winking at me.
After we quickly clean up the mess in my closet, Julia gives me a hug and calls it a night. I crawl into bed, catching a glimpse of the clock on my night stand. 2:15 AM. Staring at my packed suitcase, I sigh out loud and roll over. I eventually fall asleep, and dream about Cinderella running after her pumpkin carriage in the most kick ass pair of Louboutin's I've ever seen.
I hate travelling period. But with a hangover, it's excruciating. I'm cursing myself for drinking so much last night when the plane finally arrives in Philadelphia. At least I was able to squeeze in a power nap for much of the flight, but I'm still dragging.
Navigating my way through the terminal to get to my rental car, I stop at a stand full of tourist brochures. I grab the flyer for the Philadelphia Museum of Art and stuff it in my purse, making a mental note to check out some of the exhibits while I'm visiting for the next week. Why I let Julia talk me into booking my flight an extra couple of days before the actual reunion is beyond me. Not only that, but she somehow talked me into staying for an entire week. God, I'm such a pushover sometimes. I swear that girl will be the death of me. Shaking my head, I think about her departing words when she dropped me off at the airport earlier today, "Don't let dickhead and the whore ruin this for you. You go and get your man, girl."
Getting into my rental, I turn on the GPS to get to I-476. It's been ten years since I've been back here so I need all the help I can get. Finally, after a couple of "turn right" and "turn left" prompts, I'm on the open road and heading home. The rest of the way I can probably do in my sleep since I use to spend a lot of weekends at the museum, usually by myself. At first, Chris would come with me, but after the fifth time he confessed that it really wasn't his thing. I turn on the radio and settle on the classic rock station. As Stevie Nicks', "Edge of Seventeen" comes on, I try to get as comfortable as possible for the rest of the drive.
My exit becomes visible in the distance and my palms begin to sweat as I grip the steering wheel a little tighter. Ten years is a long time to be away from home. I say home, but it doesn't really feel that way to me. It hasn't felt that way since I left for college. This place feels tainted to me somehow. On any given street, a memory can come crawling back out of nowhere from my time with Chris and Lisa. Back then everything was so simple and innocent and I was completely in the dark of what was really going on right under my nose.
Taking a breath and then exhaling loudly, I calmly try to tell myself that I'll be fine when I take the final turn onto my old street and see my parent's house come into view. My mom must have her dog ears on today since I can already see her pushing open the screen door waving like a lunatic. Laughing at the sight of her, I pull into the driveway and barely get my car parked before she's squealing with delight.
"My baby's finally come home!"
My mom, for all of her fifty-two years of age, doesn't look a day past thirty. The woman must drink daily from the fountain of youth. She's petite, curvy, and as beautiful as ever. Her auburn hair that I was lucky enough to inherit, is chin length and falls softly across her cheek as she starts walking down the front steps. And from where I'm standing I can already see that her green eyes are glistening with happy tears. I give her a big hug and remind her that we see each other once, sometimes twice a year, when they come to Miami to visit me. Then the screen door props open again and I look up to see my dad coming towards me. His large frame lumbers across the front yard briskly. My dad is usually very soft spoken and lets my mom's vibrant personality take the spotlight quite often. Today is no different. I spy his grey eyes light up at the sight of me through the veil of my mom's hair while she's still hugging me. That is, until he wants to cut in and she finally steps aside.
