Promise Me (The Me Novellas)

by Gates, Shelby

“You had the guts to realize you wanted to do something different,” Dex said. “And I’m not talking about switching majors or switching schools. That stuff is easy. You did a complete one-eighty. Walked away from everything to try something new.”

  “I guess.”

  “Don’t guess. Know. You did it.”

  I did. The problem wasn’t recognizing that. The problem was trying to figure out what the hell to do next.

  Dex leveled his eyes on me. It was the first time I noticed what color they were. Green. Not just any green. Green like the fields in Mexico. I couldn’t look away. “And so now you’re at a new crossroads, aren’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” he said. “You need to figure out just what’s next for you, Emma.”

  THIRTEEN

  What was next was calling Sage. I’d sidestepped the question posed by Dex, muttering something about not knowing or still trying to figure it out. And then his phone had buzzed and he’d jumped, realizing he was almost late for some finance meeting he’d scheduled.

  “Is it OK if I call you?” he’d asked. “I’d like to hear a little more about your time in Mexico. The family you lived with.”

  I’d nodded and gave him my number. And then I’d gone to my car, turned on the engine so the air conditioning blasted cool, and called Sage.

  “Slow down,” she commanded.

  Words had spilled out of my mouth, tumbling over each other.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked. “Who is Dex?”

  I filled her in.

  “Jesus, Em. And why am I just now hearing about this?”

  “About what?” I asked.

  She sighed loudly. “A guy.”

  I shook my head, even though I knew she couldn’t see me. “It was just some guy I ran into at school. Not like I hooked up on a dating service or something.”

  “Now there’s an idea,” she said. “Make sure you look for someone who doesn’t need a hazmat suit to kiss you.”

  “Shut up.”

  She laughed. “Alright, whatever. So this Dex guy. You were talking to him. And Grant came in?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And how did the Germinator react?”

  I ignored her nickname for him. “He looked a little pissed.”

  “Good.”

  I rolled my eyes. “How on earth is that good?”

  “Hang on. Other line is ringing.” She switched me to a Muzak track and I waited, my fingers drumming the steering wheel.

  I hadn’t told her about the missing application. And I wasn’t going to. She was already on fire about the Dex and Grant situation. I didn’t need to give her any more fuel.

  “I hate customers,” she said when she clicked back over.

  “Probably not a good attitude to have when you’re in the customer service business.”

  “No shit,” she said. “Alright, back to Grant being pissed.”

  “Yes. Apparently, you’re thrilled that he was ticked. Is this just because you hate him? Or is there an actual reason?”

  “Give me a little credit,” she said. I couldn’t see her but I knew she was rolling her eyes at me. “Look, if he was pissed, it means he cares. He was jealous.”

  She had a point.

  “Now, see, there’s your proof that I do care about you and that I don’t totally hate him.” Her voice was smug.

  “Uh. What?”

  She tsked at me. “If I hated him so much, I’d secretly want him to not care if he saw you with another guy. And I certainly wouldn’t have pointed it out to you. Duh.”

  I grinned. “Good point.”

  “OK, so what are you going to do now?”

  “About what?” I asked. “Grant? I’ll see him tonight. Tell him—again—that it was nothing. Just a meeting with a guy who runs a non-profit.”

  “Not what I was asking. Is the guy cute? This Dex dude?”

  “Sage,” I reprimanded. “I’m in a relationship.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not blind,” she pointed out. “Dish. Is he hot or no?”

  I pictured Dex, his unruly hair, his eyes and earnest smile. His tall frame, lean and muscled. I swallowed. He was definitely good-looking.

  “A little,” I admitted.

  She let out a whistle. “Coming from you? That means he’s smokin’ hot. Awesome. When are you seeing him again?”

  “Sage.”

  “Look, I just did my best friend duty in the whole point-out-the-positives-about-your-very-average-boyfriend. Allow me to get a little excited that there’s a new guy on the scene. Please. As your best friend, you owe me that.”

  I smothered a giggle. She was impossible. “Fine. But I’m not seeing him again. Not yet, anyway.”

  She considered this. “OK. But there’s a chance, right?”

  More than a chance, I thought. Dex had my number. He still wanted to talk.

  I wasn’t looking for a new boyfriend and I wasn’t looking to cheat on Grant but if he called me?

  Yeah, I’d answer.

  And I’d see him again.

  FOURTEEN

  Dinner was awkward. Grant and I sat in a booth at Tio Leo’s, a basket of tortilla chips between us. The water fountain in the middle of the restaurant was lit up like a rainbow, casting colorful shadows on our table top.

  “So your interview was fine?” he asked.

  “What interview?” I asked. I’d spent part of the afternoon filling out applications in all the places I didn’t want to work. A few restaurants down by the beach. Stores at the mall. It was why we’d met for dinner by Fashion Valley—because I’d spent my afternoon trolling the mall, looking for help wanted signs. But I didn’t have any interviews.

  “With Declan?”

  “Oh. That.” I felt my cheeks redden. “I don’t know if you’d call it an interview.”

  “Well, that’s what he called it.”

  “I guess.” I grabbed a chip and carefully broke it in half before dipping it in the bowl of salsa on the table. I was fine with double-dipping with Grant. After all, we exchanged body fluids on a pretty regular basis. He, however, was not.

  “You guess what? Your interview was fine or that you actually had an interview?”

  I glared at him. “Look, we talked. About Mexico. It was exactly what he said. Nothing more.”

  Grant stared at me, his lips pressed together. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t like seeing you with other guys, Em.”

  And I don’t like you tossing out my job application, I wanted to fire back. But I didn’t. Because it wasn’t the right time. I didn’t know if it would ever be the right time. And I had no proof that it had actually happened.

  “But I wasn’t with him. We had a cup of coffee. And talked. About Mexico.”

  He nodded. “I know, I know. I’m just saying…I don’t know. I get a little jealous when it coms to you, OK?”

  “Since when?” I asked incredulously. He’d never once exhibited an ounce of jealousy, of possessiveness.

  He shifted in the booth. “I don’t know. Since you left, I guess.”

  I took a long sip of my soda. I knew he’d missed me. Physically, at least. We’d never had a particularly passionate sex life but I blamed that more on me than him. I just wasn’t passionate about anything. Sure, I wanted him and I liked being intimate with him and I was desperate for sex when I’d first seen him. But I attributed that to just wanting to have sex, period. Like how I’d wanted a burger and fries. Or a hot shower. And he’d always felt the same way. Sex with him was like a weekly affair. Like, when we remembered. It was never high on either of our lists.

  To hear him say he was a little jealous was completely unexpected. He hadn’t shown any signs of possessiveness since I’d been home. I mean, it wasn’t like he didn’t want me out of his sight or was calling and texting me all of the time. If anything, we’d seemed to fall right back into our typical routine. He worked, we’d figure out a time to get together. If it didn’t work out
, we’d try again the next day. There was no burning desire, no great need to be together.

  Just like always.

  “OK,” I finally said. “Well, you really have nothing to be jealous about. We talked about his organization. I told him why I went to Puerto Vallarta. He wanted to hear about my time with Rosa and Eduardo but he had a meeting to get to.”

  “Oh.”

  I ate another chip. “So I might talk to him again. Just so you know. Do I like need to tell you the time and place?”

  He frowned at me. “No. Not what I’m saying.”

  “Well, I don’t want to piss you off. Upset you.”

  “I’ll figure it out,” he said. His frown deepened. “Did you clean your hands before you started eating those?”

  I took a deep breath. “Yes, Grant. I’ve been properly sanitized.”

  He nodded, relieved. “OK.” He reached for a chip.

  “About Dex,” I began again but he held his hand up.

  “It’s fine,” he said quickly. “I get it. I’m just being an ass. If you need to talk to him, then do it.”

  “OK.”

  “I’m serious.” He reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “I’m sorry I was an ass. I just wasn’t expecting to see you there. With someone.”

  I squeezed his hand. “OK. I forgive you. This time.”

  The server arrived with our food, a plate of chimichangas for me and a massive beef burrito for Grant. I dug in, slicing into the crispy tortilla with my fork. I would never get tired of this kind of Mexican food. Beans and rice and plain tortillas? Yeah, I was still pretty burned on those. But this? I ate a forkful. Never.

  “So you got some applications turned in?” he asked.

  I nodded, swallowing my food. “Yeah. A few. The breakfast place down on PB Drive. And World Famous.”

  “And places at the mall, too?”

  “Yeah. Probably won’t lead to anything. All of my experience has been at a restaurant so that’s probably where I’ll end up working.”

  He scooped a forkful of rice. “You never know.”

  I ate another bite. Without looking at him, I said, “Well, I haven’t heard back from The Catamaran. You know, the gift shop opening.”

  I didn’t know if the silence suddenly became thick or I just imagined it.

  Grant took a long drink of his water. “No?” he asked.

  My heart beat a little faster. “No. Do you think that means they’re just not interested?”

  I’d given him the perfect opportunity to come clean. To either admit he’d forgotten to turn it in or whatever it was that had happened.

  “I dunno,” he said. “Maybe.”

  I bit my lip and said nothing. Maybe Jonathan in Human Resources had lied. Maybe there was no protocol for handing off applications and maybe, just maybe, Grant had given it to him like he said he would. But there was something about how Grant suddenly became absorbed in cutting his burrito into bite-size pieces that didn’t sit well with me.

  “You did give him the application, right?”

  He looked up. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I have?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I handed it to him,” he told me. “Told him it was for the gift shop.”

  “OK,” I said. I looked away. He sounded sincere. And I felt like a total bitch for not believing him.

  “Look, don’t worry so much about the job thing,” he said. “Something will come up. If not at the hotel, then one of the restaurants. I promise.”

  I just gave him a half-smile and nodded. I wasn’t sure that was a promise I wanted anyone to keep.

  FIFTEEN

  A baby boutique called the next day, one of the stores from the mall. After a five-minute phone call, I had an interview lined up. For that afternoon.

  Sage was less than thrilled when I called her with the news. She’d wanted to hit the beach after work. “A baby boutique?”

  “At least it’s not a restaurant,” I said. I wasn’t thrilled with it, either, but a job was a job. And my dad had asked—loudly—if I’d had any success on the job hunting front when I’d returned from dinner with Grant the night before.

  “I guess,” she said. “But what the hell do you know about babies?”

  “What do you know about paper products?” I fired back.

  She laughed. “Good one. OK, so job interview. And classes start next week, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “And these are all things you want to do?”

  No. I didn’t want to do any of them. But I didn’t have anything else lined up, either.

  “Yeah,” I finally said.

  “Alright. Well, then go and be awesome. And call me when you’re done.”

  I hung up and started getting ready for my interview. Chose the just-washed white dress that I knew looked nice on me, paired it with a short-sleeved navy blue sweater that was hanging in my closet. I added some make-up, brushed out my hair and, with doubt and uncertainty swirling in my stomach, made the half-hour drive to the mall.

  Fifteen minutes later, I had the job.

  It hadn’t been an interview at all. It had been a, “You’re alive and we need someone and please fill out this W-2. You are available weekends, right?”

  I walked out in a daze.

  And called Sage.

  “Wow,” was all she said. “Guess they really needed someone, huh?”

  “I guess.” I’d parked myself on a bench at the mall, out of sight of The Baby Boutique. Because that’s what it was called. The Baby Boutique. I wondered how successful I’d be at selling frilly dresses for newborns and strollers that cost more money than the car I was currently driving.

  “Is the pay decent?”

  “Ten bucks an hour,” I said. It wasn’t great and I knew I could make more at my dad’s restaurant.

  “Huh.” She paused. “You know, there might be an opening here. Not in the office but down at the warehouse. Those guys make bank.”

  “Have you seen me, Sage?” I sighed in frustration. “Do I look like I can lift massive boxes of paper?”

  “Maybe they could train you how to use one of those little forklift thingies.”

  I shook my head. “No.” As much as I didn’t want to work in a store selling bibs and scented baby lotion, I didn’t want to work in a warehouse, either. “It’ll be fine. Easy. And I can keep looking.”

  “True,” she said. “OK, so now what? I’m off in an hour. We could still hit the beach. Or I could meet you at the mall. Shop a little.”

  “No,” I said quickly. I was going to be spending enough time at the mall in the foreseeable future. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the rest of the afternoon there. “I think I’ll swing by and see Grant.”

  Things had been good between us when we said goodbye after dinner. We stopped talking about Dex and Mexico and I let Grant talk, instead. About school and the classes he was taking. About his parents, who were finishing with the remodel of their house in Julian. And when he’d dropped me off, he’d kissed me longer than usual, even touching his tongue briefly to my lips, before he’d whispered, “I love you.”

  “Fine,” she said in a voice that indicated it was anything but. “I hate taking the back seat to him, you know.”

  “Yeah, probably the same way I hated not seeing you the week before I left for Mexico…”

  “That was different.”

  “Only different because you were locked away in your bedroom with your man. I’ll see you tomorrow. We can go to the beach or something.” The Baby Boutique was going to call me with my schedule but Andrea, the manager, had assured me that I wouldn’t be on the schedule until next week.

  “Whatever,” Sage said. “Just find me when you’re done with him.”

  I promised and hung up. I stopped for an iced coffee at Starbucks before heading out to the parking lot. I held my drink with one hand and texted Grant with the other, letting him know I was planning to stop by. He responded immediately.

  When?


  I found him in my contact list and pressed dial.

  “Fifteen minutes?” I said. “Is that cool?”

  He hesitated. “Uh. Yeah. That would work.”

  “Are you sure? I want to tell you–”

  Another line at the hotel started ringing. “Hang on,” he said.

  “Never mind. I’ll tell you when I get there.”

  He flipped over to the other call and I hung up just as I got to my car. I slid inside, my legs sticking to the vinyl seat. I blasted the air, trying to cool off the interior. I’d need to remember to park in the covered lots when I came to work.

  Work. I grimaced. What was I getting myself into? I thought about it as I drove, trying to remember all of the positives of finally having a job. Admittedly, there weren’t many.

  Twenty minutes later, I’d parked in the hotel lot and was walking through the double doors of the hotel. I approached the front desk. Juan was there, sitting off to the left of the registration window. He smiled, a little nervously, I thought, when he saw me.

  “Hey, Emma,” he said.

  “Hi.” I looked around. “Is Grant here?”

  He shuffled some papers on the desk. “Yeah. I think he went to the bathroom? He’ll be back any minute.”

  “OK.” I waited for a second. “Actually, I think I’m going to go use the restroom.” The iced coffee had gone right through me.

  Juan started to say something, then stopped. Instead he just looked at me, his dark eyes unreadable as he chewed his lower lip.

  I headed toward the bathroom, rounding the corner to the hallway. There were guests coming in from the pool, a couple and their young kids, towels wrapped around their mid-sections. The youngest, a baby perched on her mother’s hip, wailed loudly. I smiled sympathetically at them but all I could think of was that I would probably be hearing a lot more of that in the days to come. Unless people shopped at The Baby Boutique without their babies.

  I used the bathroom, washed my hands and pulled open the bathroom door. The men’s room was across from where I stood and I wondered if Grant was still in there or if he’d gone back to the desk. I’d actually thought I’d pass by him on my way to the bathroom. But the door stayed closed and there were no sounds of flushing toilets or running water. I stepped fully into the hallway and turned to head back to the front desk. I noticed another room off to the right, a housekeeping room. And heard voices. Low, almost a whisper, but heated.