by Dash, Jayson
“Well, believe it or not, I would not have invited you if I wasn’t serious. Besides, I know if you were getting married to some guy and you invited me to your wedding I would be glad to come.” He paused and added, “I know you should be the one I should be marrying after all the history we have together, but I can honestly say that you deserve someone better than me.”
For the first time in a long time she actually believed him. Over the past few weeks it was as if Carl had been transformed into a totally different person, in a good way. She wasn’t happy at all to see that he had moved on and was going to be marrying the bitch he left her for. But as he stood before her full of remorse, even if he was faking it, she couldn’t help but take him seriously. Plus, he actually sounded like he was genuine about inviting her to his wedding, something she never, ever thought she’d agree to—going to an exes wedding was just weird, especially when she hadn’t moved on with her own life.
But she couldn’t get over the fact that he was admitting that he believed she deserved better. No guy had ever told her that, whether they wanted to admit it or not.
Pulling away from her thoughts, she turned to Carl. “That really means a lot coming from a guy like you.”
He chuckled. And for the first time in a long time she felt like things between them didn’t have to be as bitter as their breakup was and she was actually beginning to see why she fell so hard for him when they first met during freshen orientation nearly five years ago. “Thanks,” he said coolly.
A moment or so later she asked, “Well, it’s cool out here. Do you want to come in and grab the rest of your shit? I was this close to giving it all away in a garage sell.” Okay, so the last part was a lie. Like he was ever going to know?
He contemplated his decision for a moment or so and said, “Sure, why not? I don’t see any harm in it.”
“Trust me, you don’t have to worry about me trying to make any moves on you; I don’t want your cheating ass.”
Chapter Three:
Priceless
She should have known she was going to end up working on Saturday, even though at first she was against it. But it wasn’t like she had a date or any kind of plans. Besides, she had a million other more important things to worry about than crying for the umpteenth time about how many guys in the past decided to dump her and use the poor excuse that she was “too ambitious” and when she wasn’t working, she was too busy thinking about work.
Sitting behind her desk, she hated the mere fact that she was working on a weekend when she could be on a date with her future husband or hanging with her girlfriends. She didn’t know why she let small things like that get to her. Maybe it was the realization that her mother was right when she told Sabrina that she was going to end up alone with a house full of cats.
Sabrina was starting to feel like her dream of finding a decent man was slowly but surely being demolished by her workload and fact that she was so close-minded to new ideas and trying new things. But how in the world was she going to find a single man in Florida who wasn’t gay, married, locked up in prison, unemployed or stuck paying child support from his baby mother(s)? The closest she came to that was Carl and that dream was all kinds of fucked-up.
Dating was so much easier in high school when boys were all hyped up on testosterone and was only interested in sex, being popular and playing video games. Then when she got in college the guys she dated at Columbia were too rigid for her tasting but the pickings were slim and all the same. Until she met Carl—a smooth-talker from the South who knew what to say and knew how to get things done. From the first moment she laid eyes on him, she was sprung. And from the first time she let him in, she knew she was never going back to the status quo.
Sitting at her desk, she found herself bawling tears of anguish, hate, and envy all at once because she failed to do her job, which was to take care of her man when he was hers. And as a result, he ran off to be with another woman who could make him happy and do the job better than she could. God, she felt like a total loser for even thinking about his sorry ass.
“Rina, are you okay?”
She looked up to see her half-sister Camille standing in front of her desk with this weird look on her face. Like Sabrina, she was tall, stunning with minimal makeup, and sophisticated (when she wasn’t being a bitch) and that’s where the comparisons ended. Camille proudly flaunted her flat-chest instead of her brain and was no stranger to begging to be in the spotlight. Sabrina was proudly thick in the hips and inherited a hook nose from her biological father, whom she hadn’t seen since the day she was born.
Sabrina attempted to wipe the tears from her face and said, “Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?”
“I was on my way to get something to eat when I heard boo-hooing in the hallway. What’s wrong? Did Carl move up the wedding date?”
“No. Fuck him. I’m so sick of hearing his name. I swear to God if I hear his name one more time I’m going to lose my damn mind.”
“It sounds like you already did.” She took a dramatic deep breath and asked, “When was the last time you took a day off?”
More tears began to build up as Sabrina sobbed, “Honestly, I can’t even remember.”
Camille chucked as she glanced over Sabrina’s wrecked emotional state. “Look, just go ahead and take the rest of the day off. You’re being unprofessional right now.”
Sabrina fought the urge to come up with a retort. “I know. But I have a lot of work to get done.”
“Are you sure? ‘Cause you look like hell.”
“Actually,” Sabrina said, considering her words, “I think I’ll do that. I need to chill out. Thanks.” Even though she was still a bitch.
That said, she grabbed her purse, headed out of her office and rode the elevator to the lobby. Out of the building, she found her car in the parking lot with no clue where she wanted to go. Maybe she could go home and sleep in for the rest of the day. Or she could treat herself to a new wardrobe.
Two traffic lights and one helluva headache later, she found herself at the grocery store shopping for nothing in particular. Hell, she was in no mood to cook. Last time she tried that, she damn near burned the house down while trying to fry fish for Carl the way his mom made it. That didn’t work out too well, even though she followed the directions of the cookbook. Some people just weren’t meant to be in the kitchen and she was one of them.
She dismissed those thoughts as she killed the engine of her car and proceeded into the store. She grabbed a shopping cart and didn’t know where to start. She felt lost like a whore in church; just clueless. She didn’t have a shopping list and didn’t know what she needed to buy or anything. Then she remembered she was out of deodorant and she could use some more shampoo and conditioner as well. She wasn’t in much of a rush so she proceeded to the first aisle she saw and browsed the cosmetic section. She grabbed some deodorant, shampoo and a lot of conditioner. She also picked up some lotion and other stuff that caught her eye that she didn’t need.
The next aisle was full of crap. Followed by another aisle full of crap, which was crowded with a bunch of people scrounging for crap. She came across a box of pancake mix that looked really simple when all you had to do was add water. She grabbed two just for the hell of it and threw some syrup in the cart with it. Her cart was practically empty compared to what some people were stocking theirs with. She stopped near the wine section and figured it had been a while since she bought some to sit back and relax with. She stood there for at least ten minutes trying to make up her mind.
“You should go with the Rosé.”
She jumped a little and turned in the direction of the stranger’s voice, ready to tell him off for scaring her half to death. Heat rushed to her cheeks at the first sight of him. He was a few inches taller than her with broad shoulders, tanned skin. He was wearing a taught T-shirt to show off his rock-hard biceps with the words “Bite Me” scribbled in bold red letters, a pair of dark jeans.
“Excuse me?” she heard hers
elf say, grasping the bottle of wine she was holding with a much tighter grip as the handsome stranger slowly began to advance towards her.
“Rosé,” he repeated. “It’s pretty good; one of my favorites actually.” By now he had pushed his shopping cart to the side and grabbed a bottle of red wine from the shelf. “If you don’t mind my asking, are you going to be cooking with it or just mellowing out?”
“I-I, um,” she stuttered on as she found herself caught up in his green-eyed gaze. Her eyes fell down to his lips—luscious lips, that she wouldn’t mind sucking on any night. Damn. She couldn’t believe she was getting this worked up over some stranger. She was about to say something and saw his lips turn into a smile. Then he started laughing…at her?
Instantly she began to think he was laughing at her, but hell, what did she do that was so funny? Maybe it was the fact she forgot how to talk for a moment or so. She put the wine back on the shelf, grabbed her cart and hauled off, not giving a damn about him murmuring something like, “Hey, wait. Aren’t you forgetting something?”
She disregarded it and kept on walking.
That was it. She was done shopping. She didn’t even care about the old lady whom she accidentally hit in the ankle with her cart as she jumped in line for the next available cashier. What was her issue? Did she really think it was time for her to be dating? Not really. There was so much to do at work and there was no way she would have an ounce of time to spare for a relationship, no matter how much she missed the feeling naked flesh pressed next to hers…or the scent of man after making passionate love and--
“I see somebody’s a little impatient.”
She snapped out of her thoughts to see him again. He had a smirk on his face that made him look sexy as hell but infuriating at the same time. “Oh, it’s you again,” she said flatly. “What do you want?”
He reached into his cart and handed her a bottle of pink rosé wine. “You left this back there and thought I’d track you down.”
She reluctantly took the bottle and placed it in her cart. “Happy now?” she asked sarcastically, cocking her head to the side.
His chest rumbled with a laugh. “Sure.”
She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the line in front of her where a woman old enough to be her great grandmother was taking her sweet time counting a bunch of pennies from her purse and handing them to a young, young-looking cashier.
Eventually Sabrina pushed her cart forward once the old woman departed and the line moved up. “Hi. Long day?” the cashier asked Sabrina, noticing the strained look on her face.
“Yes. I hate coming to the grocery store. Way too many people in one place.”
“Don’t we all?” she said as she began scanning some items and bagging them. “I swear it’s the worst part of being single. I wish I had a man to do all my cooking and shopping for me.” She laughed at the ridiculous request.
“I second that,” added the guy from behind her.
Sabrina and the cashier both exchanged empty looks before looking in his direction to see him looking confused yet amused. She didn’t pay him any mind and turned back to the cashier, who was looking at her pleasantly.
“That’ll be forty-eleven,” the cashier announced, looking at Sabrina expectantly.
Sabrina dug into her purse for her wallet and was about to lose her mind when she couldn’t find it. Where the hell did I put that thing? She asked herself curiously. This could not be happening.
“Funny thing. I accidentally left my wallet in the car. I could have sworn I brought it with me.” Great. Now everybody behind her was looking at her as if she became the old lady who was there a while ago taking too long. “Can I leave my stuff here and run to my car really quick?”
The cashier frowned and said, “Ma’am, as much as I’d like to do that, I can’t hold up the line.”
“It’s only going to take me like five minutes. I parked right in the front.”
The cashier shook her head from side to side. “I’m so sorry.”
“Damn it!” she shouted, slamming her purse into the shopping cart. She could feel the blood began to boil under her skin. She looked really ridiculous standing in line trying to argue with a cashier when all she wanted to do was run to her car and get her damn wallet.
Just when she thought things were going to go from bad to worse, the guy who had been bothering her spoke up yet again.
“I have an idea: I’ll lend you the money and you can pay me back later. No big deal.” He produced a crisp hundred dollar bill and handed it to the cashier.
Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all. Or maybe he was a serial killer pretending to be nice guy so he could lure her to her car, drug her, and do God knows what else.
Sleep deprivation had her mind reeling.
“Thank you,” she grumbled, doing everything in her power not to look the stranger in his eyes. She didn’t need to fall in love in a damn grocery store. How pathetic? Disaster averted, she rushed to the parking lot to find her car and ironically lost control of the cart. She tried to grab it, but it sped away from her and crashed into the side of a silver Audi that was parked close to her Benz. She didn’t realize the damage until she pulled the cart away from the car and saw a white nick about three inches long. It was pretty damn noticeable.
“Are you fucking serious?” she said aloud, slamming her hand against her forehead. Her day was turning into a damn disaster! Why of all days did this have to happen to her today of all times? She inspected the nick on the car and tried to come up with a quick estimate as to how much she was going to have to come out of her pockets to get it fixed. She thought about running away and doing what a part of her was telling her to do and be done with it. But she was too damn nice and was always thinking about stupid stuff like what if it was her car that got nicked ant the idiot who was responsible ran off like a coward? She would really be pissed.
It was times like these she wished she could be like Larissa and her fuck-the-world attitude. If it was Larissa, she would just walk to her car and drive home and pretend nothing ever happened. But she wasn’t like Larissa; they were total opposites like salt and pepper; while Sabrina was always quick to apologize when she was in the wrong, Larissa would just say “Fuck it” and move on. She was almost emotionless, never the type to wear her emotions on her sleeve. Some would call her a bitch, but she didn’t give a damn about anyone but herself. There was nothing wrong with that.
She hurried to her car and put away her groceries. She scrounged around for her notepad and miraculously found her wallet in the console. Luckily she had her checkbook in there as well and grabbed it.
She walked back to the car and stood there for a quarter of a second and found herself seeing the same guy who paid for her groceries walking towards her with his shopping cart. He caught her gaze and just as she thought he was going to keep walking, he heart leapt into her throat when he parked his cart a few inches from where she stood.
“Okay, this is weird,” he said, an amused expression playing on his handsome features. “Don’t tell me you’re a psychic. Are you?”
“You’re kidding, right?” This was not the time to be playing games. All she wanted was to go home and relax—maybe even cry some more.
“Not at all. I was just saying because, there was no way you could know this is my car.”
Sabrina cut straight to the chase. “The damn cart got away from me and this just happened to be your car.”
He waited a beat. “So, you hit my car with your cart?”
For a quick second she thought about trying to flirt her way out of it and see how far she would get. She did it before. She said to him, “Yeah, basically.” She opened her checkbook. “How much do I owe you on top of the forty?”
“I don’t know,” he said moving closer to get a better look at the damage. “I guess three hundred ought to do it I’d hate to get my insurance company involved.”
“Okay. And who do I make this check out to?”
“Brett Delto
ur.”
She filled out a check and handed it to him. “Well, um, Brett, I hope you have a good one.” She turned to walk away and heard what sounded like paper being ripped into pieces. She turned around to see the idiot doing just that to the check. “Why the hell did you do that?”
He boldly stepped closer to her. “I don’t want your money.” He paused and added, “I just want a minute of your time.”
“Why is that?”
“Maybe I think you’re cute and I would like to take you to dinner sometime.”
She couldn’t help but laugh out loud. After a minute or so of the giggles, she said, “I’m sorry for laughing. But, I hardly know you.”
Brett reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. He held it towards her and said, “If you ever change your mind, give me a call.”
She reluctantly took the card, just to make him feel like he actually had a chance. “Yeah, maybe.”
He smiled and said, “Hope to see you again soon, Sabrina.” He smiled and as he began to leave, Sabrina pretended she didn’t feel a tingle in her spine all the way to her toes. She hadn’t felt such a sensation since…
As quick as she could, she walked to her car as if she hadn’t heard a single word he said or took a mental snapshot of his dazzling smile. If only that were true.
Chapter Four:
‘Cause I’m a B-O-S-S
Good morning, Ms. Evans!” her perky secretary Raquel greeted the moment she stepped off the elevator, wearing a big smile on her face as usual. “Today is going to be brutal.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, you have a ton of messages on your voicemail, I left some memos on your desk, um, Camille is calling a meeting to discuss the cover of the next issue and I think that’s it.” She handed her a folder and asked, “Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“No problem, Ms. Evans. I’ll be right back.”
She walked to her spacious office; everything was so bright with the ceiling-to-floor windows and a gigantic view of downtown Miami, the white furnishings like her chase and her wingback chair stood out amongst the splash of red and black décor that was arranged around the place.