The Promise

by River Laurent

  As I turn to put the dollar into my tin, I feel someone watching me.

  It is a boy. He’s wearing a leather jacket and blue jeans and he is leaning against the wall of the school building, his arms crossed over his chest. And oh, my gosh! He’s so handsome it’s freaky. His dark hair is so thick and perfect. Blue eyes. I’ve seen boys like him on TV and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to see one in person.

  I can feel him staring at me as I kiss the next boy. I don’t know if I should look at him, or pretend that he’s not even alive. I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help looking over at him as the kiss ends.

  The next boy steps up as I’m staring at the boy across the schoolyard. I can’t tell if he’s just interested in watching, or he wants to come over and get in line. I can feel the skin on the back of my neck get all prickly when I think about what it would be like to kiss him.

  He’s so, so cute.

  But I have to think about the boy standing in front of me, so I turn and look at him. And my heart sinks a little. He’s not in my grade, and I don’t know his name, but I know him by sight. Everybody does. It’s hard to miss him. He wears thick glasses, weighs a million pounds, and has a mouth full of ugly metal braces. I don’t want to kiss him.

  But he has a dollar. I can see it in his hand, sort of crumpled up.

  My eyes swivel over to the handsome boy. He’s still standing there, just watching, and my cheeks start to burn. I wish he wouldn’t watch this part. What’s he going to think of me? He looks older, a lot older, like the fat boy in front of me. Maybe they’re in the same grade. I would die. I would just die. Why can’t he go away? Or if he’s going to hang around, why doesn’t he get in line?

  I want to be kissing him. Not the boy in front of me. I can’t help it but suddenly, burning tears come into my eyes. I can’t stop them. They roll down my face. I’m so ashamed, I want to crawl into a hole and die.

  And he sees it, the boy in front of me.

  I know he must think I’m crying because of him being who he is, but really, I’m not. I’m crying because I shouldn’t be kissing all these boys. I’m crying because I know Dad won’t like it if he knew—because I wish I could be like all the other girls and only kiss the boys I like.

  Even through my tears I see his face fall and I start feel bad for him too. I know how he feels. He must get teased a lot for being fat just like I get teased for my clothes and the food I eat. He frowns and looks at the ground, and now I feel worse, so I start crying for real. Big, hot tears that roll quickly down my cheeks and drip onto my stupid, worthless jacket. I know I should stop, but I can’t.

  Then, the fat boy does something odd. He reaches into his jeans and pulls out a bunch of money all crumpled up, and shoves it into my cold palm. “Go home,” he says.

  “Huh?” I hiccup.

  “Go home.” He doesn’t say anything else.

  I don’t need him to, anyway. I have all this money, and there’s no way I can face everybody in school again today. Maybe not ever again. I just want to die. I take off at a run and I hear the kids still waiting in line grumble and curse because they didn’t get their turn.

  I hear something else, too, as I run past the wall where the handsome boy is. I hear him calling out to me.

  “Hey, kid!”

  But I can’t look back. Not at him. I’m so ashamed. All I can do is run with the money clenched in my fist as tight as I can hold it to be sure I don’t lose it. I run all the way home.

  I didn’t have to worry about going to that school again, anyway.

  The next morning, some people from Child Protection Services come to the house. They bring two policemen with them. They say they received complaints that I was selling my body in the school yard. They speak sternly to my parents, and throw around words like unfit parents, stealing food from the dumpster, and foster families.

  They speak to me gently and tell me they’re taking me away to live with another family.

  Mom screams hysterically at Dad to do something. He puts his head in his hands and cries, but he doesn’t tell them to get out of our house.

  I tell them I don’t want to go, but they drag me away kicking and screaming.

  Chapter 6

  Brock

  (Present Day)

  I never saw her again after that day, but we all heard the stories.

  Even at my young age, I understood why she was selling her kisses in the first place. The girls called her a slut and a skank, even though they didn’t really understand what they were saying.

  But I knew better.

  I don’t know her now and didn’t back then either, but I’ve always had a way of reading people. The poor kid was just trying to help out her family the best way she knew how.

  One night while I was doing homework with my bedroom door open I overheard my parents mention the Saber family. I crept to the top of the stairs and listened to them discussing her drunken, worthless father and her sick mother.

  Both died within two years of Dani and her brother being removed from the home. I used to wonder if she knew. I even hoped that she’d come back for the funerals. Just so I could see her again, and know she was doing all right.

  I’ve had to wait twelve years for this day.

  But what the hell has happened to her? She’s fucking cleaning houses for a living. It’s better than a lot of things she could be doing, but not nearly good enough for her.

  I look up the stairs. The white marble shines under the lights. She must have got down on her hands and knees to do them. Something in my chest hurts.

  There was always something special about her. She had guts. She was determined and strong, not to mention resourceful. And she was the most beautiful girl I’d ever set eyes on. She never knew, but I used to watch her. Back then, I was crazy about her. I used to write her name in my notebooks. Once, I even punched another kid for saying something nasty about her. Got a temporary suspension, and my dad was mad as hell with me, but it’d been worth it.

  I guess I’ve always had a thing for her.

  Funny how life hinges on meaningless little decisions. Stay in bed a few minutes longer and miss the train that crashes. Take your kid in for his first day of school and avoid being in the office when a plane hits the building. If my investors had arrived on time I would have stayed on in LA for another two days and I would never have met her again.

  I take the stairs more slowly this time, and quieter than before. She needs her sleep. I wonder what she’d think if she knew who I was. Here I am, getting all sentimental over her, when I doubt she’ll even remember me.

  Back in the bedroom, where she’s still deeply asleep, I settle comfortably into a chair across from her, and watch her sleeping. I need a plan, a solid plan. Before she wakes up.

  Her breathing is soft and light, even. Her mouth curves into a slight smile and I wonder what she’s dreaming of. Or of whom. My body clenches at the thought. My eyes fly down to her fingers. No ring on her left hand. A good sign.

  When the idea hits, it’s like a bolt from the blue.

  It’s still sketchy, still in its early stages, but it’s the ideal way to keep her in my life. Because I must. I must keep her with me now. There’s no other option. I’d be a foolish man to let her slip away from me again. Opportunities like this don’t come around more than once in a lifetime.

  I slide my phone from my pants and text Mark.

  ME: Slight change of plans. Tell Charlotte I’m coming to Vegas for her wedding.

  His return text comes through almost instantly. Awesome. We’ll have a blast.

  ME: BTW, I’m bringing my fiancée.

  MARK: WTF???!!!

  I smile. Tell you when I see you later tonight.

  MARK: Tonight? Aren’t you in LA?

  ME: Nope. See you about nine.

  MARK: Can’t wait to hear this story.

  I glance away from the screen and over to Dani.

  She stirs as if she feels my gaze, or knows what I’m thinking as she
sleeps.

  Wouldn’t it be something if I showed up in Vegas with her on my arm? Poor Charlotte. I’ll try my hardest not to rub it in, but she can only dream of being like Dani.

  I sit there for a while, watching her from my chair as she sleeps. Planning. Wondering. Looking forward to the moment when my Sleeping Beauty awakens.

  Chapter 7

  Dani

  Oh, wow! I’ve never been so comfortable. Never in my whole life.

  As I slowly work my way back to consciousness, I become aware of everything around me. The cool silk bedspread is just as incredible on my skin as it was before I fell asleep. I’ve worked my way into the mattress and I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to get back up. Not when it cradles me, fits around my body like a glove.

  I think it’s made of clouds. That’s got to be it. I just slept on a cloud. And darn it, I might fall back to sleep just for the hell of it. Because when am I ever going to have a chance to sleep on a bed like this again?

  Slowly—oh, so slowly—something else works its way into my senses. A scent I haven’t noticed throughout the time I’ve been inside this amazing penthouse. Hmmm…a musky, spicy scent.

  As I hone in on it, other sensations start filtering through. The sound of breathing—that isn’t coming from me.

  My eyes fly open with shock, and I’m greeted by the sight of the most drop-dead gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. He is sitting in a leather club chair across from where I’m curled up at the foot of the bed. One ankle is crossed over the other knee and his long fingers are tented beneath his chin. His startling blue eyes are trained directly on me.

  Oh. My. God.

  “I’m so sorry!” I scramble off the bed and to my feet. My cheeks are burning with shame like I’ve never known. Shame and guilt. And the knowledge that there’s no way he’s going to pay me for all the work I’ve done after walking in and finding me asleep on his bed. The man made me toothbrush his already-clean grout. I don’t think he’s the type to forgive something like this.

  What’s worse, he doesn’t say a word. He just looks at me with an inscrutable expression. His finely-drawn mouth neither frowning nor smiling. His square jaw isn’t clenched but is tight, which tells me he’s not pleased. Something’s bothering him, regardless of whether or not it’s me he’s displeased with.

  Wait, what the hell am I thinking?

  Of course, it’s me. He’s just found me sleeping in his bed, like I’m Goldilocks, or something even though I’m not a blonde, and he’s not a bear. Though he is pretty big and I’m pretty sure he could tear me to pieces if he wanted to.

  “Truly, I’m sorry for this. I cleaned for seven hours and I was up all night studying and—and I was just so exhausted, and you weren’t supposed to be back for two days. I was going to change the sheets, anyway. So it’s not like I’ve done any real harm—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Of course, it was wrong, germs and all that.”

  His eyebrows shoot up, though he remains silent.

  “I apologize. I tend to babble when I’m scared to death and I’m scared right now, because I really need the money from this job and oh, look, I’m babbling again.”

  He holds up a hand to signal silence.

  Instantly, my mouth snaps shut.

  He’s still staring, which I would tell him is just about the most unnerving thing in the entire world if he hadn’t already signaled for me to shut up.

  My insides are all quaky and shaky and a little watery. What’s he going to do to me? Call Helen? Get me fired? Oh, my God, I need this job. I’ll even give him today’s work as a freebie if he promises not to get me fired.

  “What’s your name?”

  My eyes widen. Interesting lead-in. “Dani. Dani Saber,” I whisper cautiously.

  He nods. “Dani. I assume you’re not the usual cleaning woman who takes care of my apartment.”

  Crap again and again. How did he find out? Did I miss a spot or something? Is he going to get angrier if he finds out I’m not his regular? But Helen didn’t say it was secret. I should just come clean since he probably already knows, seeing he brought the issue up. Lying would definitely be a bad move. I nod with a sigh. “That’s right. How did you know?” I can’t help but ask. I know I was as thorough as I could be.

  “You changed the linens in the guest rooms.”

  My jaw drops in shock. “Hang on. Lisa doesn’t normally change the linens?”

  “Not unless there’s evidence of the bed having been used since she was last here.”

  I shake my head in wonder. “But how can you tell? All the sheets are exactly the same.”

  “The inside corner of each sheet is embroidered with a different color. Call it extreme, but I like to know what my cleaning people are up to.”

  I nod, even more impressed at the extent of his weirdness. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  He shrugs. “Your service is the only one I’ve found so far that’s anywhere close to suitable. Otherwise, your coworker does an adequate job. You, however, do excellent work, and I always give credit where credit is due.”

  “Thank you so much,” I breathe out, some of the tension draining out of me.

  “Except for the part where you fell asleep on my bed, rather than completing the job.”

  And the tension is back. “I know. As I said and say again, I’m sorry. Very, very sorry. Please don’t tell Helen, I mean, Mrs. Lincoln.”

  He ignores everything I said and asks me a totally different question, “You said you were up studying all night?”

  I frown. “Until four in the morning.” Which reminds me. I look around. “What time is it now?”

  “Ten-thirty,” he murmurs without checking his Rolex.

  Ten-thirty? Jesus, I didn’t take a nap. I had half a night’s sleep. “Again, I’m so very sorry. I won’t take long to finish up in here. An hour tops. If you want to wait downstairs, I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  “No,” he says quietly.

  Did he just say no? “Oh, all right then. I’ll come back tomorrow when you are at work, or something.”

  He has a very powerful personality, for sure. I know I should be afraid of him, or at least intimidated. The hair stands up on the back of my neck whenever our eyes meet, like he’s shooting invisible electric sparks at me. It’s a sort of intoxicating sensation, and damn it, he’s toe-curlingly, gloriously hot. Easily the best-looking person I’ve seen.

  What can I say?

  I’ve always appreciated beauty. I let my eyes side away from his sculptured mouth and begin to walk backwards. Even though I don’t actually want to be out of his way. “Okay. I should be off. I’m sorry again. And thank you. Bye now.”

  I’m two seconds away from the door when his commanding voice stops me in my tracks. “Not so fast.”

  Chapter 8

  Dani

  My stomach drops. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, not so fast. Are you hard of hearing?”

  Oh, so that’s it. I’m still sleeping and this is some bizarre dream. Is it possible for a person to hallucinate after inhaling too much vinegar and lemon? “My hearing is just fine. I was only wondering why you would order me around like that.”

  “I asked you because there are other things I wish to discuss with you. When it’s time for you to work in my bedroom, you’ll be the first to know.”

  My skin flushes and there’s the hair on the back of my neck standing up again, right on schedule. Does he even know he dropped a heavy double entendre? Yes. I think he does. My cheeks burn even hotter than before. I’ll just ignore that. “What is it you want to discuss?”

  “Have a seat.” He gestures toward the bed.

  I shouldn’t just give in, but it’s probably better for me to just do things without asking why, even if it runs counter to my personality. One of the things that always drove my foster mother crazy was the way I couldn’t stop asking questions. She liked it a lot better when I kept my mouth shut.

  I perch carefully, only slight
ly unnerved by the way he’s staring at me. “Did anybody ever tell you it’s rude to stare?” I murmur.

  “I can’t help it. I’ve never seen that shade of red on a human face before.” For the first time, a slight smile plays at the corners of his mouth.

  —Oh, my Lord, it’s possible for him to be even sexier. Pure lust explodes inside my body. He’s superhuman, or an angel, or something. That has to be it. I press my palms to my burning face. “What is it, then? I’m sure you want to unwind after traveling.”

  “I’m fine, thank you.” He straightens out his long legs.

  I can’t help but notice how thick with muscle they are. He’s a real piece of work, in many ways. My eyes helplessly stray upwards, past the area of his—umm—upper-thighs and just a little bit higher, and oh, my—that is some package he has there. Big. Suddenly, I realize what I’m doing and lift my eyes all the way up to his, and they are sparkling with wicked humor.

  Oh, God. So embarrassing.

  He just watched me check out his junk, and I was practically drooling. I’m such a dumbass. I should just suffocate myself on his super-soft pillows right now. If my cheeks were red before I cannot imagine what color they must be now. They feel like they’re on fire. I meet his amused gaze for a split second before letting them jerk away, while I desperately think of something to say, but really, what can I say? It was an eye-lick pure and simple.

  He gestures next to his head with his finger. “Can you remove that thing on your head?”

  Jesus, can this get any worse? “Oh.” I snatch the shower cap away and my hair tumbles untidily down over my shoulders and back.

  His eyes darken as he looks at me through half-lidded eyes. “Hmmm…”

  I shift awkwardly. “What do you mean ‘hmmm’?”

  “I have a problem which I believe you can help me with.”