Trainwreck 2 (Trainwreck #2)

by Nelle L'Amour

  Ari glared at me, his blue eyes fierce. I knew what was coming and braced myself.

  “Sarah, why did you stand me up?” His lips thinned into an angry line, awaiting my response.

  My heart pounded, and I fidgeted with my fingers. Because your psycho ex-wife is my psycho boss! is what I wanted to scream out, but revealing this would just open a Pandora’s box with dire consequences for everyone. And in my emotionally vulnerable state, I couldn’t handle them. I pondered an excuse.

  I had to work late? While that was a good excuse (and partially true), I could only keep that up for the rest of the workweek, and would have to come up with another one to avoid seeing him over the weekend.

  My mind raced. Finally, I knew what to say. “I’m seeing someone else.” I blurted out. While I appeared calm on the outside, inside I was aching. Falling apart.

  Ari’s eyes grew steely. He said nothing, but his expression begged for information.

  “It’s someone at work. We’ve been seeing each other for a while, but decided to cool it for a bit. You know, to see if we really wanted to be a couple.”

  Ari listened silently and intently, not blinking an eye.

  “I’ve missed him terribly.” Oh God, was this hard!

  Ari’s eyes narrowed. “So, Sarah, I’ve just been a Band-Aid.”

  I felt sick-to-my-stomach terrible. “He told me today that he wants me back. That he can’t live without me.”

  Silence.

  “And I feel the same way. I’m going to move in with him.”

  Silence.

  “Ari, I hope you understand.”

  “I understand.” His voice was glacial, devoid of emotion.

  I forced a half-smile that said thanks. Inside, my heart was bleeding tears. After tonight, I would never see my gorgeous stranger on a train—or his son, Ben—again.

  I might have burst into real, ugly tears again had a doctor not lumbered up to us. I jumped up from my chair, my heart hammering.

  The doctor lifted his horn-rim glasses on top of his balding head and wiped sweat from his brow. Oh, God. Wasn’t this what they did on TV shows when the doctor was going to break the bad news that the patient had died?

  “Ms. Greene…Mr. Golden…”

  My heart beat so hard against my chest I thought it would burst out. Ari squeezed my ice-cold hand, a kind gesture I didn’t deserve.

  “I have good news for you. Ms. Hoffmeier will be fine. Fortunately, she did not ingest enough aspirin to cause any permanent liver or kidney damage. We’re going to keep her here a couple of days for observation.”

  I breathed a loud sigh of relief. Thank goodness!

  “Can I see her?” I asked.

  “Yes. She’s awake now and has asked for you.”

  I turned to Ari. He jerked his chin, signaling me to follow the doctor. “I’ll wait for you here.” His frosty voice sent a chill down my spine. The doctor sent his regards to Ari’s family, and without looking back at my beautiful companion, I let him lead the way.

  Lauren’s room was a far cry from my mother’s sterile, shoebox-size hospital room. It was a huge suite that looked like it belonged in a luxury five-star hotel with bleached hardwood floors, sleek white leather furnishings, and pale gray silk drapes. A floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the sparkling city. Lauren, in a hospital bed, was propped up against a mountain of plump pillows and covered with a luxurious white duvet. An IV was attached to her arm. She looked pale and tired. I planted a kiss on her forehead and plunked down in the armchair next to her bed.

  “Hi,” she said weakly, her voice a mere rasp.

  “Hi.” This was awkward.

  “Thanks for being there for me. The doctor said I’m going to be okay.”

  “I’m glad. But you’ve got to get some help when you get out of here and get over Taylor.” This wasn’t the right time to tell her about the repulsive Hampton’s incident, where drunk, slobbering Taylor hit on me. And would have likely raped me had not Ari intervened. Inwardly shuddering at the memory, I held her in my gaze.

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  Quirking the faintest of smiles, she asked me to pass her the water that was on her nightstand. I obliged, and she took a sip through the straw.

  “How did I get here?”

  “Ari drove you here. You don’t have to worry about your parents finding out. He’s got it all covered.”

  She flashed another smile, this one bigger, more genuine. “He’s a great guy, Sarah. Have you slept with him yet?”

  Only Lauren would have sex on her brain right after a suicide attempt. I nodded, my heart aching inside. In reality, we had never actually slept together nor would we ever.

  My BFF’s face brightened. “Girlfriend, don’t let him go.”

  Her words made my stomach churn as my heart sank to the floor. “Well, you’d better get some rest. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

  Lauren closed her eyes, and I tiptoed out of the room. Oh, how love could hurt!

  In the waiting room, Ari was on his cell phone. Upon hearing my footsteps, he ended the call and gazed up at me. Concern was written all over his face.

  “How is she?”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  An awful, anxious feeling consumed me. Longing. I desperately wanted to be in his arms. Feel the warmth of his breath… his heartbeat against mine… the heat of his flesh. “Well, I’d better be going. I’ll take a cab.” I could use his hundred-dollar bill. No need for that anymore.

  “No. I’ll take you home.” It was a gruff order.

  “Actually, I’m staying over at my boyfriend’s apartment.” I don’t know what made me go back to the masquerade, never mind take it up a notch. My heart stuttered.

  Ari pressed his lips tightly together. “Fine.” He stabbed the word at me. “Just tell me where it is. I’ll drop you off.”

  I was too fatigued and emotionally drained to protest. And to be honest, every minute I spent with him was a gift. We departed the hospital steeped in silence. At the entrance to the hospital, we waited for a valet to bring his Bentley around. The car came quickly. After we got settled into it, I gave him the swank address of Lauren’s parents’ apartment. Fifty Sutton Place South.

  Ari shifted the car into drive, his eyes facing forward. “So, your boyfriend must do well.”

  “He does a lot of things well.” When I turned and saw the hurt look on Ari’s face, I immediately regretted my words. His long fingers tensed on the steering wheel as he stepped on the gas and pulled away from the curb. Wishing I could take back what I said, we drove the short distance in silence. Not once did he turn his head to look at me. When we pulled up to the elegant apartment building, the white-gloved doorman ran up to the car and opened the passenger door for me.

  There was no teary goodbye. Ari was gone before I could say goodnight and thank him for his kindness. I watched his Bentley fade into the distance with my eyes watering. When I was sure he wasn’t coming back, I walked home, leaving a trail of tears behind me.

  Ari

  A lethal cocktail of jealousy and rage coursed through me as I drove home. Goddammit. Sarah had played me. I was nothing more than a rebound fuck. And now, she was back with her rich boyfriend and living with him. How could I have been so blind? So fucking stupid? Maybe it served me right. I had treated her like a toy, offering her no sense of commitment. Whatever we had, if we ever had anything, was over. She had moved on and made it loud and clear that she didn’t want or need me in her life. Self-loathing mixed with my storm of emotions, burning me like acid rain. I could feel myself reddening as I heated up.

  Goddamn fucking traffic. Stuck in the stop and go crawl, it allowed me too much time to fume behind the wheel of my Bentley. My uncontrollable fury manifested itself as road rage, and I honked and cursed at every Tom, Dick, and Harry who got in my way. It took me forty-five fucking minutes to get back uptown to my apartment. Valeting my car with the doorman, I
wiggled my fingers, which had cramped up from clenching the steering wheel so tightly on account of my tension.

  To my surprise, Ben was still up, sitting in the living room with a platter of cookies and some milk. Luisa was scuttling about, plumping up pillows and re-arranging tchotchkes. When it came to maintaining my grand apartment, she was a tireless, obsessive-compulsive.

  “What are you doing up, bud?” I asked, joining him on the couch. While I was still burning with rage, seeing my son cooled me down a bit.

  “He couldn’t sleep, Señor Golden,” chimed in Luisa, dusting a picture frame with her apron.

  My heartbeat accelerated and worry pulsed through me. Another nightmare?

  Before I could inquire, Ben took a sip of his milk and asked, “Daddy, can I ask you about something?”

  The hesitant, sheepish tone of his question rattled me. My knee-jerk reaction was that he had met Cassandra. Every muscle tensed.

  “Sure, buddy,” I said in my calmest voice as I ruffled his hair. “Shoot.”

  “A girl in my class told me she loved me and said she wants to marry me.”

  My brows lifting to my forehead, I practically keeled over. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry with relief or burst out in laughter. My adorable little boy was already a heartthrob. In no time, he’d have women at his feet. With a big smile, I gave him an affectionate noogie and helped myself to a cookie. Fuck it was good. Melt-in-your-mouth orgasmically good. Did Luisa know how to cook anything badly?

  “What’s her name?” I asked after swallowing another chunk.

  “Jordan.”

  Jordan. That must be Lisa’s daughter. Maybe the love affair began at the movie theater.

  “Do you like her?”

  “She’s okay for a girl I guess.” He took another sip of his milk and then looked at me thoughtfully with his soulful long-lashed green eyes. “Did you love Mommy when you married her?”

  I almost choked on my next mouthful. The memory of seeing the psycho bitch last night came at me like a spear, obliterating the one of seeing her for the first time clad in a bikini on a beach in Saint Tropez and falling head over heels in love with her beauty. My stomach twisted while words stayed trapped in my throat. I had to answer this question carefully. Both Dr. Zimmer and Ben’s psychiatrist felt strongly that it was important for my son’s well-being to believe that our tragic marriage was rooted in love.

  “Y-yes,” I finally stammered.

  He broke into a small smile before consuming another cookie. I told him it was his last one. But he wasn’t done with the questions. If his first question about my ex was like a punch to my gut, this one was like a knife to my heart.

  “Do you love Sarah?”

  My heart clenched painfully. Should I tell him I was no longer seeing her? Refraining, I answered his question with another question.

  “Do you like her?”

  A dimpled cheek-to-cheek grin lit up his face. His green eyes twinkled with mischief. “C’mon, tell me,” I nudged him, eager for his response.

  “I think you should marry her. Luisa thinks so too.”

  His words collided in my head like bumper cars. But instead of making me dizzy, they knocked some sense into me. The truth hit me hard. I wanted Sarah in my life as much as I did Ben. Scratch that. I needed Sarah in my life because my son needed a mother. My son’s happiness was my number one priority and I needed to fight for him. I was raising him to be a winner just as my father had raised me. And winners didn’t lose.

  With another smile, I gave my little man another fatherly noogie and told him it was bedtime. I called out to my housekeeper, who was still scurrying about. “Luisa, would you get him ready for bed, por favor, and I’ll be in shortly to tuck him in.”

  “No problema,” she replied with a wink, obviously having overheard our conversation. She padded our way to usher Ben to his room.

  After they disappeared, I devoured another cookie and then headed to Ben’s room to tuck him in. It was too late for a story.

  “Night buddy. I love you.” As I gave him a kiss on his forehead, a realization hit me. I was capable of saying those last three little words.

  After tucking him in one last time, I exited the room and thought about something that my father had taught me. To succeed in business, know your competition.

  I made a phone call.

  Fuck Sarah’s boyfriend. I was taking him down.

  Sarah

  Once again, sleep eluded me. I spent most of the night, gazing up at the ceiling and thinking about my decision to stop seeing Ari. My pack of lies haunted me. I had hurt him. Hurt him terribly. I hated myself for what I had done almost as much as I hated Catherine for the things she had done to Ari and his son. I finally dozed off, but soon afterward, Jo-Jo woke me up, nuzzling his head against my chest and meowing loudly. I dragged myself out of bed and knew I had to pull myself together. Today was Catherine’s big boys’ toyline presentation to Ike and the design team, and I was going to have to be the one to pull it together and make her look good. What I really wanted to do was sic a pack of rabid dogs on her.

  After a feeding Jo-Jo and downing a cup of coffee, I debated whether to go for a jog. I was tired but stressed. And depressed. In the end, I decided to go for a quick run in the park, in lieu of my neighborhood, hoping that it would lift my spirits.

  The decision was a good one. The air was cool and invigorating, and the early morning light that beamed through the trees along the lower loop was almost magical. All I thought about was running and making it through the countless hills and vales of this verdant path. The circle was a little under two miles and took me less than fifteen minutes to complete. I got off at Sixth Avenue and Central Park South. Watching out for cyclists, I bent over and stretched my calves.

  “Well, Sarah, fancy you here.” At the sound of the familiar voice, I straightened up immediately, my eyes traversing a pair of very long, lean, toned legs. Every muscle in my body tensed as my gaze met hers. Standing before me was Ari’s twin sister, Gwen, dressed for a jog in black runner shorts and a sweatshirt that said Wellesley. Her flaming red hair was gathered in a ponytail.

  “Hi,” I said nervously, wanting to get away from her as fast as I could.

  Her eyes narrowed at me. “So, have you thought about my offer?”

  “I’m not seeing your brother anymore.” My voice was stiff, masking my sadness as well as my contempt for her.

  She flashed a smug smile. “I knew you’d come around. I’ll draw up a settlement offer later today and send it your way. Does two million dollars sound fair and reasonable?”

  Two million dollars? I gulped. Two million pennies would have sounded like a boatload of money. Gosh! I could do so much with that much money. Get a brand new apartment! Quit my job! Start my own company! Buy a car and pay off my bills! And best of all, pay for my mother’s cancer treatments without a worry!

  The temptation was great. So many of my problems would be solved. Yet, there was something so very wrong about accepting the money. This was not how my mother raised me. She raised me to be a kind person, with a good heart and a strong moral compass. I was taught to be honest and work hard for the things I wanted in life. “Remember the three’s P’s,” my mother always said. “Be Persistent. Be Patient. Be Passionate.” In my heart, I knew my mother would rather die than have me accept a bribe.

  And there was the one thing all the money in the world could not buy me. The man I loved. Ari.

  I looked straight into Gwen’s eyes. Without a blink, I hissed, “Keep your money. I don’t want it.” Her jaw fell to the ground. I ran off without looking back.

  By the time I got back to my apartment, the temperature had risen. I was hot and sweaty. After a quick, cold shower, I hastily donned my work uniform—a mid-calf peasant skirt, a T-shirt, and my combat boots, and then at the last minute, changed into one of the floral sundresses Ari had bought me for our Hamptons getaway. I still wanted to be attached to him in any way I could. Slinging my messenger bag across m
y body, I grabbed my skateboard and flew out the door. I had no regrets about any of the decisions I had made this morning. Not even the one to leave my apartment pantyless.

  ###♥###

  There were no flowers waiting for me when I got to my desk. And I had a feeling there would be no phone calls from him today either. Guilt mingled with sadness. I had hurt him last night. Scarred by love before, he was not looking to become a trainwreck again. My Trainman was out of my life. Gone forever. It was the price I had to pay.

  I turned on my computer and checked my emails. The usual, absurd “To Do” list from Catherine, née Cassandra, popped up on my screen. I hated this snake-tongued woman with a passion. She had ruined Ari’s life. And now she had ruined mine. I told myself that I would talk to Human Resources later today and see if I could transfer to another department. There was no way I could continue to work for the sick bitch and respect myself. The chances of getting a different position were slim, but I had to give it a try. Sadly, the chances of winning back Ari were none. Another horrible wave of sadness swept over me.

  With Catherine still not in the office, I had the opportunity to make a couple of personal phone calls. First, I called my mother, who was looking forward to seeing me tomorrow. The sound of her voice, which was growing stronger every day, temporarily cheered me up. I so wanted to tell her about everything that was going on in my life, but the last thing I wanted to do was worry her. By the end of the short phone call, I felt depressed and anxious again, knowing I still hadn’t figured out a way to pay for her treatments. Or a way to break the bad news to her about the research grant running out. The fact that she was getting better made it exponentially more difficult. As much as I looked forward to seeing her, I dreaded it. For a brief moment, I second-guessed my decision to turn down Gwen’s outrageous offer. But then my moral compass flexed its muscle and I knew I’d done the right thing. I remembered once again that my mother believed that good things happened to good people. And no matter how fucked up my life was, I had to believe that. I had to!