Trainwreck 2 (Trainwreck #2) (3 page)

Luisa remained speechless for a few moments, then catching her breath, asked, “
Señor
, what are you going to do? I fear for your life and that of your son’s.”

I shared all the precautionary measures I’d already set up. She listened attentively and was pleased that Vadim was on his way to the city from the Hamptons and would be protecting Ben whenever he was out of the apartment. This meant taking him to and from school and to all his extra-curricular activities like soccer and karate. He could not for one second be out of Vadim’s sight, even if it meant taking him to the bathroom somewhere. I reinforced to Luisa how important it was that she be on guard as well and not let anyone up to the apartment unless approved first by me. She totally understood.

I took a breather, collecting myself as Luisa made me some warm milk. She sat down at the island and joined me.

“Luisa, one last thing,” I said after taking a sip of the soothing beverage. “We can’t let Ben know under any circumstances that his life is in danger.”

“
Sí, señor
.” She nodded and then broached a subject I’d temporarily put to the back of my mind. “And what about
Señorita
Greene?”

At the mention of her name, my stomach bunched up. Raking my fingers through my hair, I huffed out a hot breath of air and then shook my head with dismay. “
No se,
Luisa.” That was the truth. I didn’t know how Cassandra’s reappearance was going to affect our relationship, short-term or long-term. The only thing I could count on was the monster wreaking havoc. Cassandra’s mission was to destroy me…to deny me of any happiness even if it took brutal force. I just knew I had to do my best to hold on to Sarah, even it was by a thread, and protect her with all my might.

Clasping one of my hands, Luisa’s kind eyes met mine. “I know it
eez
going to be difficult,
señor,
but don’t lose her
por favor.
She is a
muy buena mujer.
”

I shot her a half-smile, an image of Sarah conjuring in my mind. She was more than a “very good woman.” She was my princess. I wanted to call her again. I needed to hear her voice and to know she was okay. And I needed to assure her I wasn’t going away. In fact, I couldn’t wait to see her again.

After polishing off my milk, I excused myself and headed to my bedroom. Sitting down on the edge of my big king-size bed, I pulled out my phone from my slacks pocket and again tried to call her. Again no luck. My heart heavy, I got undressed, put on my pajama bottoms, and performed my bedtime bathroom routine. And then taking my phone with me, I headed to Ben’s room. The nightlight was on and he was indeed fast asleep. A small dimpled smile turned up his lips, and his Green Ranger action toy as usual was tucked under one arm. My sweet, precious little boy. This miracle of life. Jesus. How I loved him. At the thought of anything bad happening to him, I shuddered. If that bitch got within fifty feet of him, I’d kill her. Thank God, my son was not subject to my demons. Not wanting to sleep alone tonight, I quietly snuck into his bed and gave him a loving kiss on his forehead. Fingers crossed he wouldn’t awaken with one of his monster dreams. Having seen the
real
monster tonight, it would totally unravel me.

The semi-darkness blanketed me and I gazed up at the ceiling that was whimsically hand-painted to resemble a galaxy with scattered stars, planets, and the moon. Forcing Cassandra to the back of my mind, I thought about Sarah and how she’d sent me orbiting into outer space so many times. The stars gave me no clarity, but my heart warmed at the thought of her. Tomorrow was another day. At least that’s what I hoped as I whispered aloud:

“Goodnight, moon.”

Sarah

I
couldn’t sleep a wink. A wicked rollercoaster of emotions whipped through my head.

I was in a state of shock, sickened by the discovery that my psycho boss, Catherine, was Ari’s psycho ex. One and the same! The mother of his precious son Ben. Tossing and turning, I couldn’t stop thinking about the awful things she’d done to the two of them. She’d physically and emotionally hurt them. Perhaps, scarred them for life.

Bile rose to my throat as my mind flashed back to our restaurant encounter. I couldn’t get the way she glowered at me out of my head. Venom was pouring from her eyes. “You’re nothing,” she hissed at me, ready to strike like a cobra had Ari not bolted out of the restaurant with me by his side.

My sleepless mind wandered. My stomach twisted at the thought of her once sharing Ari’s bed, and even more so, at the thought of my Trainman making love to her. Did he fuck her senseless the way he did me? Kiss her everywhere? Hold her in his arms as if there was no tomorrow?

With all the willpower I could muster, I shoved these nauseating thoughts to the back of mind and forced myself to imagine that their lovemaking was passionless. That she was as frigid as a block of ice. Ari’s harsh words—“she’s nothing to me”—gave me some solace. I believed him. Whatever they once had, if anything, was no longer.

Nonetheless, dizzying questions spun around in my head. How was I going to face Catherine? Was she going to fire me? Could I even continue to work for her knowing the horrible things she was capable of? Should I tell Ari? And the one that weighed on my heart the most, and made me sick to my stomach: Should I stop seeing him?

When my alarm went off at 6:30 a.m., I didn’t want to get out of bed and pulled the covers over my head. I dreaded facing Catherine. The thought of calling in sick crossed my mind, but I feared if I did that she would retaliate and not let me take off Friday to visit my mother. Or use it as ammunition to get me fired.

I forced myself to get up. After taking a hot shower and my birth control pill, I made myself some coffee, fed the cat, and got dressed, eschewing one of Ari’s sundresses for something of my own. I skipped my usual neighborhood jog; I was just too distraught and doubted it would give me the clarity I needed. Having left my skateboard yesterday in my cubicle, I was going to have to walk to work. Perhaps some answers would come to me on my way downtown.

The city this morning was gray, the skyscrapers blanketed in a thick layer of fog. The bleak weather did nothing to improve my mood or help me think clearly. My head was in its own fog as I trudged down Sixth Avenue to my office. The usual excitement I felt as I stepped into the bustling Toy Center complex was replaced by chaotic dread. My stomach was one big knot.

When I got to my cubicle, a huge vase of exotic, multi-color flowers was waiting for me on my desk. I could smell their intoxicating fragrance all the way down the hall. Yesterday, when I saw my roses and found out whom they were from, my heart almost leaped out of my chest with excitement. Today, my heart skipped a beat with uncertainty. A sick feeling spread over me. Taking a deep breath, I opened the note that was inserted in the extravagant arrangement. It was written in French. Sitting down, I turned on my computer and typed the words into Google Translator. It read:

My Pretty Princess~

Blooms from the South of France. Inhale the flowers and dream. Hope you are feeling better. I’ll collect you in front of your office building at 6:30 p.m.

Yours~Ari

“More flowers?” The familiar, shrill voice sent a chill down my spine. Catherine had gotten here abnormally early and, dressed in head-to-toe Chanel, looked primed for a confrontation. She puckered her blood-red lips and narrowed her sinister, snake-green eyes. “Sarah, get into my office right now.”

The notecard fell out of my shaking hand. I followed her into her sprawling, antique-filled corner office. My heart was thudding so loudly I could hear it. A nauseating mixture of fear and loathing coursed through me.

“Take a seat,” she snapped, standing tall behind her gilded Louis the Who-ey desk.

I sunk into one of the two large armchairs that faced her. I felt like I was three-feet tall.

She glowered at me. Poison was pouring from her eyes. “Here’s the deal. If you want to keep your job, you stop seeing
my
husband immediately.”

A sharp pain shot through my heart. Trembling, I could barely look at this woman, who had once shared Ari’s bed and bore his beautiful child, and then almost destroyed them both, forever marring them. For a brief moment, I wanted to shove her out the window and send her to hell where she belonged.

“Understood?” she hissed.

I nodded silently, not wanting to confront her.

“Good. Now, get back to work.” She shooed me away with a dismissive wave of her hand. “And I want to see those flowers gone by the time I come back from lunch.”

By the time I got back to my desk, there was already an email waiting for me with a list of all the things she wanted me to do, most of them her personal crap, like setting up facial and massage appointments, making breakfast, lunch, and dinner reservations, and locking an asterisked top-priority meeting with someone named Frederick Allyn of Allen & Allyn. She also wanted to see the preliminary boys’ toys ideas I had come up with right after lunch. Shit! I hadn’t given any thought to them. While she was out for lunch, I’d brainstorm with Fernando and come up with some ideas. The intoxicating scent of the flowers dizzied me. My mind was mush. What was I going to do? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get Ari out of my head. Or quell my hatred for Catherine. I couldn’t think straight. Let alone think at all.

The phone rang and I answered. “Boys’ toys.”

“Saarah, tu aimes les fleurs?”

The rich, sultry voice on the other end sent a shudder zigzagging through me. Ari! Even though I didn’t speak French, I knew what he was asking. My lips quivered.

“Yes, they’re lovely, but I’m very busy right now and have to go.” I spat out the words and, with a trembling hand, hung up the phone. My heart was heavy, my stomach in knots. I stared at the flowers and then at the cheerful photo I kept on my desk of my mother and me taken the year before she fell ill. I felt ill; I knew what I had to do. I had no choice. Tears brimmed in my eyes.

The phone rang again. With hesitancy, I answered it.

“
Saarah
, that was rather rude.”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered.

“Do I have to give you another good spanking?”

Instead of responding to his unnerving question, I blurted out, “I can’t see you tonight.”
Or ever
, I thought as my heart plummeted.

I slammed down the phone.

The phone rang again. My heart stammered. I let it ring without answering it. It stopped.

Then it rang again. It was even harder this time not to answer it. Desire fought the despair that tore through me. In my heart, I knew I was making the right decision. With my mother about to lose the federal grant covering her experimental cancer treatments, there was no way I could afford to lose my job. It wouldn’t be easy to find another one. Jobs were hard to come by. Even Ike’s Tikes had recently initiated a series of cutbacks; I was lucky I still had mine and knew that heads were still rolling.

After the third attempt to reach me, Ari gave up. I guess he went by the saying:
Three strikes and you’re out
. I was at once relieved and terribly sad. I busied myself with Catherine’s assignments, but had a hard time staying focused. All I could think about was my Trainman. My gorgeous, sexy, insatiable Adonis who had made me feel like no other man had. Another wave of depression swept over me. Overnight my life had become a real-life
West Side Story.
Maria couldn’t have Tony; now I couldn’t have Ari. Nothing good was going to come out of this relationship. A tear escaped my eyes. I quickly wiped it away when Catherine née Cassandra shot out of her office a little before noon.

Her eyes clashed with mine. “I want your file of boys’ toys concepts on my desk by the time I return from lunch. And remember, those flowers are to be gone. All of them.”

Holding her monstrous Chanel bag over her arm, she marched down the hall to the elevators. I stared wistfully at the flowers gracing my desk, the red roses from yesterday and the exotic assortment from today. I inhaled deeply, allowing their rich, intoxicating aroma to rush up my nose and arouse every part of me. I began with the roses. One by one, I tossed them into my wastebasket. I pricked my thumb on a thorn and yelped as a droplet of blood fell to my desk. Oh, how love hurts! Tears streamed down my face.

“Chiquita, qué pasa?”
It was Fernando.

I stopped tossing the roses and burst into sobs. “It’s over,” I choked out, meeting his concerned eyes. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

“Oh, pobrecita!”
He came around my desk and gave me a big hug. It made me feel a little better, and I was grateful that my usually inquisitive friend didn’t pry. I couldn’t explain what was going on to him even if I weren’t bawling. Grabbing a tissue, I blew my nose and gazed longingly at the flowers. “Fernando, these flowers are too beautiful to throw out. You keep them.”

“Are you sure?”

With a sniffle, I nodded. “I’m sure. I’ll help you bring them to your desk.”

Each taking a vase, we padded down the hall to his cubicle. After setting the flowers down on his desk, Fernando offered to buy me lunch. I didn’t have much of an appetite but agreed to it anyway.