Promise Me Forever

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Promise Me Forever Page 5

by Scarlett Adams


  Looking over at me he shrugged. “What are you going to do? I gotta keep them happy until I can figure this out.”

  I gave him a half smile, trying not to let on to the fact that I was suddenly very uncomfortable. I glanced down at my watch and shook my head. “Man, I didn’t even realize what time it was getting to be. I really need to get home. Tish is going to close at the bakery today for me but I have about a million things to do that I’ve been putting off forever and are suddenly very important. Paperwork, taxes… New menus?”

  I was struggling to come up with excuses, but from the look on his face he didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, I know, I’m sure you’re extremely busy and I didn’t mean to keep you this long.”

  I shook my head, dramatically waving my hands at him. “No, I’m the one that asked you out to lunch. Besides, it was hilarious and you intimidated my ex so it was definitely a win-win for me.”

  I felt a flicker of nerves in my chest as he walked toward me, his eyes staring deep into mine, his lids closing slightly, and his pupils darkening. My eyes shifted right and left, and I wavered in my stance. He reached his hand out, and I wasn’t sure whether to put mine up so he didn’t kiss me or just let it happen. Of course, I completely read that wrong. Instead of it being some awkward romantic gesture, he slipped his card into my hand. Holding it tightly there, he smiled at me. “It’s got my cell phone number on it. If you get done with what you’re doing and your bored, text me. I will probably be up really late.”

  I took the card and slipped my hand in my pocket nodding as I turned. “Take this time to write. Then you won’t have to stay up like a vampire.”

  He chuckled and pointed at me as I continued to walk away. “That is very sound advice. I definitely should do that. I probably won’t though.”

  I waved at him as I turned away, heading toward the street. My smile quickly faded but my steps picked up in pace. I couldn’t just stop, I didn’t want him to see that. While I still found him extremely charming, handsome, and really loved how much we laughed together, I was scared. I had every right to be scared. Men had never treated me well, and I had never listened to my own instincts before. I knew there was a good chance that doing it this time was the wrong time, but just a small chance that I was right made me even more nervous.

  When I reached the sidewalk I turned right, and glanced back but didn’t see him. I pulled his card out of my pocket and held it up. It was simple, with his name, his title, and a cell phone number on it. I rubbed my fingers across the thick paper and held it to my lips as I continued down the street. Every time I passed a trashcan I wanted to stop and throw it away but something stopped me. I probably looked crazy walking down the street and pausing at every trashcan, but I was in a mental struggle with myself. My mind refused to allow my body to do what I was trying to get it to do.

  By the time I had reached the edge of town, heading toward my house, I gave up. I put the card back in my pocket and pulled my jacket closed tightly at my neck. Suddenly, without him by my side, I could feel the cold he was talking about. I had never met someone that affected me in that way, and I couldn’t figure out whether it was a good thing, or something I needed to seriously be aware of.

  Chapter 8

  Christian

  As a man, I have come across all sorts of women. I’ve met the overly confident women, the extremely shy women, and those that thought they were better than everyone else. I’ve met the women that just wanted to have a good time and the women that were looking for marriage. But out of all the women that I had met, Rory, hands down, had to be the most confusing of them all. If she thought that I didn’t see the change of facial expression and personality in her after I took the phone call, then she was fooling herself. I didn’t want to make it awkward, so I didn’t say anything. If she wanted to go home, I wasn’t going to pressure her to stay with me.

  I wasn’t sure what changed her tone though, the call or the text. We were having such a great time, and she had finally started to open up to me. I felt like I was seeing her true self. She was goofy, she giggled a lot, and everything she said made me laugh. My facial muscles hurt from smiling so much while I was with her. And my response to her ex… It came out of nowhere and was completely out of personality for me. I was not a confrontational person, not anymore at least. I had my hay day as a military guy, but it had been years and I had learned to be collected and levelheaded because I knew that confrontation got you nowhere.

  Standing in front of that smirking redneck though, listening to him call me a sissy wasn’t even what got me angry. What angered me was how he spoke to Rory. How he had the audacity to make a comment that inferred there was anything wrong with her beautiful body. I thought that small-town guys were supposed to be the ones with charm and manners, but this guy, he gave them all a bad name. Something inside of me stirred standing in that restaurant, and yes, I wanted to see her smile, but I also wanted to protect her. I had never been in a situation where I felt that it was that important to defend and protect someone. I felt it down to my core. I felt it as if it were natural and always there even though I had only known her for a few days.

  She responded really well to it, and I loved the way it felt for her to cling to my arm as we walked. But then everything changed. With one phone call that distracted us from the bubble that we were in, she closed up and threw up the fastest brick wall I had ever seen. I was shut out in an instant, and it was all that I could think about. After she had left, I continued walking around the park, trying to get it off my mind before I went back to the hotel. The last thing I wanted to do was to go sit down to write and only be able to think about her. It was only going to make my writer’s block even worse.

  As I strolled around the rather large park for such a small town, I watched the people stuck in their own little bubbles. There was an older couple, the man holding the woman’s hand as they slowly crept along, their bodies old and shriveled, their bones brittle, and their eyes dimmer than before. But the love between them was a strong as any young couple I had ever seen, and probably stronger. You could tell that he genuinely cared for her, helping her along, coddling her as if something were to happen, he would be able to lift her into his arms and take her out of danger. And despite the fact that she herself knew he was just as fragile as she was, she leaned into him, feeling the safety of his arms. That was incredible to me. That was the essence of the books that I had written.

  No matter how much I saw that though and could feel my own yearning for something that strong, I couldn’t put it to use in any type of idea to go toward my book. When I first started writing the series, ideas came to me all the time. I carried five notebooks with me all over the place. It didn’t matter where I was, things would pop into my mind and I could see it play out in the story perfectly. When the main character’s father died, I was in the middle of a Greek wedding, listening to them smash plates, cheer, and sing. I was watching the father standing next to the daughter in pride and love. I immediately took a notebook for my front pocket and jot down the ideas. That was one of the very important turns in my story that I used. The one that people told me I captured the emotion of just perfectly.

  But walking back toward the B & B, the air cold on the back of my neck, the only thing I could replay was the last fifteen minutes of my time with Rory. At the hotel, I propped myself up in the bed and pulled my phone out looking at the message I had gotten earlier. No sooner than I had hung up with my editor, Rachel had texted me. Suffice it to say she was not the person I wanted to hear from. Rachel was an actress, someone that had been at the right place at the right time, or vice versa whichever way you wanted to think about it. We had had a blip of a fling and had slept together a couple of times. Her emotions for me were much stronger than mine for her, especially considering I had zero emotion for her. She was the typical California girl with dreams of walk-in closets and big bank accounts. She wasn’t anywhere near the kind of girl that I wanted to have in my life long-term.

  Lon
eliness could make you do funny things though, and I knew there was a point that I had strung her along, leading her to constantly try to contact me despite me finally telling her that it wasn’t going to work out between us. She didn’t seem to absorb that memo. I leaned my head back against the headboard and stared up at the ceiling, pulling the laptop into my lap and opening it up. I thought maybe if the screen was glowing against me it would help pull out the words that I knew were trapped somewhere in my body. But as the minutes ticked by, absolutely nothing came out of me.

  The phone buzzed on the bed beside me and I rolled my eyes, figuring it was going to be another text from Rachel. She didn’t like it when she texted me and I didn’t answer back. When I picked up the phone though, I was pleasantly surprised. Rory’s name scrolled across the screen and I pulled up my messages finding she had texted me something witty. I returned in jest and chuckled. She sent me back a meme, a cat laying on the floor, on its back, asleep. I reached over and took the box of cookies I had bought the day before and opened them up grabbing one of them. I snapped a picture of the box first and then one of myself devouring a cookie. I chuckled at the photo, knowing she was probably the only person on earth I would actually send that to.

  I thought for sure that I would get a response back from that, and I waited and waited, wondering if she was going to send me some silly picture back, but nothing ever came. I dropped the phone on the bed next to me and shook my head. Her mixed signals were so confusing. I had to remind myself, I was there for a purpose, and that purpose was not to find a girlfriend. I wasn’t from there, and eventually I would have to go back home. If I had anything with Rory it would be nothing more than a fling. As much as I was falling in love with the place, my life was far too demanding for me to move there or stay there for a long period of time.

  I did the best that I could to convince myself that it would never have worked out in the end. I picked up my phone and scrolled back through the messages, hitting the one from Rachel. I knew it was stupid, I knew it was wrong, but again, loneliness made you do strange things. I typed a message back to her, pausing only once before hitting the send button. Closing my laptop as my phone buzzed again, I sunk down into my covers, and opened up the picture that Rachel sent me. For the first time in a long time, being wrong, no matter how beautiful Rachel was, felt terrible.

  When I woke up the next morning, feeling slightly shameful with a phone full of text messages because I had fallen asleep halfway through talking to Rachel, I grimaced and knocked my phone onto the floor. My first instinct was to get up and get dressed and head over to the Café, but after never hearing from Rory again, and after our strange and awkward departure from each other, I thought maybe it would be best if I stayed at the B & B and tried to work. Rory was a really good person, and I liked her a lot, so I knew that stringing her along, making her think that I would be there longer than I was, or even having a fling with her wasn’t right. I didn’t want to hurt her, and I think part of me didn’t want to feel that lurch in my stomach when I had to leave.

  I called down to the front desk and ordered some breakfast from room service. I was in kind of a foul mood, disappointed with myself, and frustrated with my own brain. I didn’t really feel like being nice to everyone. Most of the people that I came across knew who I was, and they were exactly how anyone would picture small-town people who were starstruck. They wanted to hold conversations, they wanted to pick my brain, and on a normal basis I found that captivating and flattering, but that day I didn’t think I could take one more question.

  In an attempt not to be a jerk to any of them, or let my feet stroll me to the Café despite what was best, I set my computer up at the table and waited for breakfast to arrive. Normally the older woman that owned the place would bring it to me, a smile on her face, and the most adorable high-pitched giggle after each and every sentence. That day though, the cook brought it up, and I was pretty sure he had no idea who I was. That was a good thing though.

  I ate my bacon and toast, picking at my eggs, and recognizing the sweet perfect taste of the muffin that was brought up with it. Apparently, everybody bought their baked goods from Rory. Sipping my coffee, I stared at the computer screen, trying to muster that feeling of love that I had seen in the old couples’ eyes in the park the night before. But every time that I pictured them, the old man turned into me, and the woman into Rory. It was frustrating.

  Figuring if I couldn’t get her out of my mind I might as well talk to her, I grabbed my phone and sent her a text message. It was a simple message, asking her how her day was, and letting her know that I hadn’t forgotten about her. I waited and I waited, but again she never texted me back.

  I slammed my phone down on the table and stared at the computer screen in a mixture of frustration and fear. I felt trapped, and not in the town nor the bed-and-breakfast, but inside my own mind. I felt as if I was torturing myself for no reason. I needed an escape, that light and feathery feeling that Rory gave me anytime I was near her. I needed her, but no matter how hard I stared at my phone, she wasn’t answering any of my messages. Whatever I had done, it was pushing me toward insanity.

  Chapter 9

  Rory

  “No,” I said angrily as a paced back and forth in the kitchen. “I don’t even understand how you think that you have any claim to her. I had her before I even met you. She hated you. And you hated her. She used to climb on the bed and try to pee on your head. Then, when I finally got her to stop doing that, every time you walked down the hallway she would pounce and rip your legs open. I know that you are not keeping her because you love her. So, do not give me that bull crap. You are keeping her because you have some sick obsession with me and even though you broke things off, you can’t fully let it go.”

  My anger was so bad that all I wanted to do was grab one of the pots from the sink and slam it repeatedly over and over again against the counter. Knowing that would probably scare the entire restaurant, I gripped my fists tightly instead. My ex talked on the other line, blabbing and word vomiting showing me his disgusting personality. I hated the sound of his voice. The part of me that was sad about losing him, it went away really fast. Maybe it was Christian that helped me get over it, or maybe I had just seen the light, but either way, I really wanted to teach him a lesson.

  I walked out of the kitchen and stood behind the counter closing my eyes and taking a deep breath through my nose. “Listen to me and listen carefully. That is my cat. My cat. There is zero reason for you to keep my cat. Whether you’re going to give her back to me now or I’m going to have to come forcefully take her from you, she will be back with me. And let me just explain to you very carefully that if there’s one hurt hair on my puffy little furball, I will take a shovel and I will stick it so far up your…”

  “Good morning,” Tish yelled from beside me as people walked in the door.

  I glanced over at her and gritted my teeth. She shook her head and mouthed the words, “hang up.” I pressed my tongue against the back of my front teeth and rolled my eyes. I just wanted my cat, I just wanted my sweet furry little cat back. I wasn’t sure where the absolute necessity to do it right then came from, but I woke up that morning feeling as if I couldn’t go another day without my best friend. Tish would just have to get over the fact that she came second to my cat.

  “Maybe you should think twice about having your new boyfriend threaten me in my own town,” he mumbled. “Who wears a cardigan anyway?”

  I pressed my fingers to the bridge of my nose and glanced up at the register, seeing Christian standing there with his hands in his pockets. It made me even more anxious. “Look, I gave you everything that we bought in our relationship. You got the comforter, the bed, most of the furniture and you didn’t even need any of it because you went to live with your little blonde bimbo. I just want my cat back. She’s important to me and what you’re doing is cruel. I was not cruel when we broke up. When you can stop and think about all the things you’ve done to me over the last year,
just have a heart and bring my cat back.”

  I pulled the phone away for my ear before he could respond ending the call. I felt very emotional about my cat, but the truth was I was just having a bad day. Having Christian standing there glancing at me, didn’t make things better. I knew that he was the primary reason behind my bad day, but it was my own fault. I should’ve never texted him the night before, and then when he sent me that adorable picture of him scoffing down cookies like cookie monster, I realized how much danger I was in. I was falling for a man that was inaccessible. He was only here to finish his book, then he would go back to his life and we would never talk again. I didn’t want to be the person on the other end of the phone that he was fake with. I didn’t want to be the editor one day.

  With a deep breath, I walked up to the register and gave Christian the best smile I could muster. He looked at me curiously, as if he were trying to figure me out. “Having a bad day?”

  I rubbed my face. “I wish that I could say it was bad, but I feel like it’s worse than bad.”

  He gave me a pitiful smile. “You know, we can always hop on a plane and I’ll take you to the set of the show. We can make a daytrip out of it and I’ll even introduce you to some of the actors.”

  I lifted my brow and gave him another smile knowing he was obviously trying to figure out some way to make me feel better. I wondered if he even had the power to take me on the set, and I wasn’t really sure what I would look at considering the series was over. Nonetheless, he did the best job that he could. The truth was, I didn’t want to go to some movie set, have some fancy jet fly me anywhere, or be the love interest of some famous author. What I really wanted was just for my life to feel normal again. I wanted to wake up in the morning and not have my stomach drop as soon as I remembered what reality was. I didn’t want to have complete breakdowns in the middle of my store trying to get a cat back.

 

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