Promise Me (4 page)

The one thing I do miss about my hometown, Skippack, which is about forty-five minutes outside of Philadelphia, are the winters. Even when we didn't get much snow, it still had that winter wonderland feel to it. Now, I have palm trees with Christmas lights to look forward to every year. It's a small price to pay for being able to go to the beach in the middle of January with all the other "snow-birds". I like to think that I'm making out on the deal.

I pull out of my parking spot and in a few short turns, I'm at my usual morning pit stop, Sergio's. Most people nowadays are Starbucks devotees. Not me. After the very first time I took a sip of what the locals here call "cafe con leche", I've been drinking it ever since.

"Hola, Sabrina, the usual?" Maribel, the waitress behind the outside counter asks as I walk up to order.

I smile and put my sunglasses on top of my head, "Si, muchas gracias, Maribel." Thirty seconds later, she's handing me a to-go cup of heaven and rings me up.

"Have a good day," she says.

"Igualmente," I answer and start to make my way back to the parking lot.

"Your Spanish is getting better," I hear her say while opening my car door. You would think after living here for about eight years I would speak fluent Spanish by now. No such luck. I only know a few words and phrases, but they do come in handy. Before ducking back into my car, I say, "Gracias Maribel. Te veo mañana."

I plug my iPhone into the audio jack in my car and command "Siri" to put my music on shuffle as I start my commute. I work at The Art Center on Lincoln Road in the heart of Miami Beach. I've been there for the past four years, at first as a receptionist and all-around gopher, slowly making my way up to Gallery Assistant about a year ago. After my internship in Italy I somehow managed my way into this place and I'm probably one of the few people I know that loves their job. It's always been my dream to work somewhere like The Museum of Modern Art in New York City, but for now, I'm happy where I am and I love the people I work with.

In the distance I can make out the now familiar art deco building that is my home away from home. The white curved concrete is surrounded by large glass windows to allow a passerby slight glimpses inside. I purposely drive a little further from the front entrance of the gallery until I find a spot that is partially shaded by a palm tree. This is a big must in Miami. If not, your car may go up in flames by the end of the work day from the sun's glare.

Walking in the front door, I'm immediately greeted by Sarah, our receptionist. She's a twenty year old stereotypical bubbly "Barbie" blonde, who, from the looks of it, never experienced a bad hair day in her entire life.

"Good morning, Sabrina, how was your weekend?"

I can tell she's dying to tell me how hers was so I shrug my shoulders, smile and ask her the same question. "Oh my God, I met the hottest guy at that new club on Washington I told you about. We're meeting up after work tonight. I can't wait!" She proceeds to animatedly tell me all about this new guy, who, according to her, is more into her than her last guy, or even the guy before that one.

"Just be careful, Sarah," I tell her and start to head towards my office.

Before I can make it down the hall she calls me back, "I totally forgot to give you your messages. Your mom called a couple of times already this morning."

I look at the phone messages then up at Sarah. "Did she say something was wrong?"

She looks at me nervously and says, "No, but I guess she really wants to talk to you. Gosh, I hope everything's ok, Sabrina."

I roll my eyes and give her a tight smile, "I'm sure everything's fine. She probably just wants to go over my flight information for the millionth time."

I still can't believe Julia talked me into going to that damn reunion. As soon as I told my mom I was coming home for the event she squealed so loudly on the phone I thought my ear drum would explode. Needless to say, almost every other day since then she's been calling to make sure I haven't changed my mind. I think I'm more afraid of what Julia would do to me at this point if I didn't go. She's been bringing it up pretty consistently since I bought the non-refundable airline ticket. Yes, non-refundable. That one was all her idea. She thought it would make it next to impossible for me to back out if I couldn't get a refund on my air fare. Although, according to her predictions, she'll be paying me for my ticket after I have "hot, dirty sex" with Tyler. Yeah, right.

Sitting down at my desk, I pick up the phone and start dialing. "Hi Mom," I say as soon as she picks up.

"Oh thank God. I've been trying to call you all morning."

"I know, I just got your messages. Why didn't you call me on my cell? Is everything ok?"

"Sweetie, everything's fine… but...," she trails off and I start thinking the worst. "Mom, is Dad okay? You're freaking me out."

"No, no, no, don't be silly, your father is fine," she hesitates a moment then she takes a big breath before hitting me with the real reason she's been calling me. "I ran into Lisa at the Village Shopping Center in town yesterday. She asked about you and brought up the reunion. I told her you were coming and then she... she asked me for your phone number."

"Please, Mom, tell me that you didn't give it to her."

"Well, that's the other reason I'm calling you so early, I wanted to make sure I caught you before she called you so I can give you fair warning."

Through clenched teeth, I just barely get out, "Mom, I don't want to talk to her."

"I figured you'd say that, but I thought it would be a good idea to talk to her a bit now so that when you get here in a few weeks you'll have already cleared the air with her."

I don't even know how that conversation could possibly go well or how my mom would even think I'd be okay with her giving Lisa my phone number when she knows we aren't friends anymore. "Mom, I have to get back to work. I'll call you later in the week."

"Please don't be mad at me Sabrina. I did it for your own good. You need to make amends with Lisa. The sooner the better," she says, like I'm the one at fault for ruining our friendship.

"Mom, I can't think about this right now. I've got to go. Love you... bye."

Putting the phone back on the receiver at my desk, my eyes veer to the left and see the calendar that shows a big red circle around "D-Day", June 25th, and let out a breath that I didn't even know I was holding. Just a few weeks away now and I still don't have any clue of how I'm going to get through this. I need reinforcements so I pull my cell phone out of my purse and shoot off a quick text to Julia.

Lunch? 12:30... Burger & Beer Joint?

A light knock on my door makes me pop my head up as if I've been caught sleeping in class. My boss, and owner of the gallery, Alex Holt, is leaning in the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest smiling at me.

To say Alex is good looking would be putting it mildly. He is beautiful. I take a quick inventory of him today and he doesn't disappoint. His dirty blonde hair is just a tad too long but tamed with some hair product that probably cost him a fortune. He's wearing a top of the line black suit which is tailored in all the right places and a crisp white button down shirt. He's forgone the tie today, so the top button is undone, allowing me to catch the tiniest hint of his perfectly tanned flesh. His sky blue eyes are dancing with mischief when he makes his way into my office to take a seat across from me.

"Good morning Sabrina," he says as I hear and see my phone vibrate on my desk. "Do you need to answer that?"

"Um, no, it can wait," I say sheepishly back.

This man has always made me nervous. He bought the gallery a couple of years ago and has always made me feel like a complete jackass. Not because I don't know my job or what I'm doing, it's more the sexual vibe that oozes off of him everywhere he goes. Sometimes, I could swear that he's flirting, but I promptly toss out the thought since that would be ridiculous. I mean, he is my boss, right?

"Okay, well, I just wanted us to go over some of the details of that new exhibit you've been working on," he pauses a second to unbutton his suit jacket, crosses his legs and slowly leans back in the chair.

"Well, everything seems to be in place. The final artist has signed on and has agreed to show at least five to six pieces," I say while reaching for the nearest thing I can get my hands on from my desk to grab. I find that if I have something in my hands keeping me busy, my mind will keep from straying to impure thoughts.

"Great," he says as his eyes are now focusing on the pen that I'm currently bobbing back and forth in between my fingers.

"Yes, I'm really excited about it," feeling more confident all of a sudden, thanks to a pen? Seriously, what the hell? "I think we really needed some balance in the exhibit and this artist's work really provides that. He'll be in later today to discuss it further." I hesitate a moment before asking my next question. "Would you like to be in on the meeting?"

"No need, I trust you," he says then stands up and winks at me before leaving my office. My phone buzzes again breaking me out of my thoughts of Alex and all his gorgeousness.

You had me at burger... see you at 12:30

Smiling now and a bit more at ease, I turn on my computer and spend the remainder of my morning going through emails, dealing with potential sponsors for the gallery's upcoming exhibit and try to complete as much work that is humanly possible so I can make it to lunch on time.

As twelve o'clock approaches, I'm on my way out the door when Alex catches up to me. "In a hurry?" He asks smiling down at me.

I can't form a coherent response since the cologne and general "Alex" scent is flooding my senses. It's a mixture of sandalwood and the beach. Just lovely, perfect really.
He's my boss, he's my boss
,
he's my boss
, is the mantra that's currently on repeat in my head.

"Not really," trying to sound as casual as possible, "Just wanted to beat the lunchtime traffic. I'm meeting my friend for lunch."

"Julia?" He asks while trying to not look as if he's hiding his amusement at my obvious discomfort. While I nod in the affirmative, he steps back and puts his hands in his pant pockets. "I was hoping to take you out to lunch today," he pauses before adding, "to discuss some work related matters. But seeing as you already have plans, maybe tomorrow."

"Sounds good, it's a date then."

Why on God's good green earth did that just come out of my mouth? Chuckling at my verbal slip up, Alex takes his hands out of his pockets and props the front door open for me. As I go to pass him and take my first couple of steps out the door, I could swear I hear him say, "Not yet," under his breath. My head couldn't have snapped back quicker if I tried, but the door was already swinging closed behind me. Repeating the
he's my boss
mantra about another hundred times in my head. I get into my car and set out for lunch.

"
So let me get this straight," Julia says while she reaches over to grab a French fry that is slathered in chili and cheese. "Since you left the house this morning, your mom called to give you shit about Lisa, or the whore, whichever works for you. And for the record, I prefer the whore. Anyway, the aforementioned whore has your phone number now, thanks to your mom. And finally, for the trifecta, Alex, your crazy hot boss wants to get into your pants."

"Actually, all of it except the Alex wanting to get into my pants part is right."

Almost choking on her food, she takes a quick sip of her diet soda before saying, "He so does want to get into your pants". I shake my head and tell her she's bonkers before she starts to break all the facts down as if she was Nancy Drew.

"Number one, he winked at you. I've seen you two at gallery events before and have caught him once or twice winking at you. Now, you could chalk that up to harmless flirting, but with the way that guy looks at you as if you were his next meal, not even a possibility. Two, he asked you to lunch. You can argue that he's your boss and it's normal to do that sort of thing. But you have never, ever, gone out to lunch, just the two of you, to discuss anything. There's always been a buffer present. That tells me he wants you all to himself. Finally, number three, he's hot and you're hot, and everyone knows that hot attracts hot."

She's quite proud of herself, going back to her chili cheese fries and sliders as if she's just solved the world's greatest mystery. I, for one, am not sold. There is no way that my boss could be interested in me in anything other than a working relationship. As if she can read my mind, she says in between bites of her slider, "Please don't make me repeat all of that."