CHAPTER 18
Sarah
When I arrived for breakfast in the main house the next morning, Ari, his son, and his sister were already seated around the kitchen island, eating pancakes. Gwen looked up from her New York Times and eyed me coldly. Ari was reading his Wall Street Journal, and Ben was playing a game on his iPad.
I helped myself to some coffee and joined them at the island.
“How did you sleep?” asked Ari, putting down his paper. He looked tired, the usual sparkle in his eyes gone.
Gwen shot me a smirk, clearly pleased that I hadn’t slept with her brother.
“The best I ever have,” I replied, shooting a smirk back at the manipulative Ice Queen to let her know I could read her mind.
I took a sip of my steaming coffee and yawned. To be honest, I slept terribly. The bed, with its fluffy down duvet and mountain of pillows, was as delicious as I’d imagined. But while the ocean sang a lullaby with its ebb and flow, I tossed and turned. Ari was a man of contradictions. He was tender and savage. Gentle and rough. Hot and cold. He wanted me; he didn’t. I was tormented by his ambivalence and began to question what this sexy billionaire saw in me. I was a no one. A plain, small-town girl with a messed up life. And though he called me his “beautiful princess,” my beauty probably paled next to the women he was used to fucking as well as to his ex-wife’s. He had said it himself—don’t count on a permanent relationship. There was no way this could work out, and I knew I had to cut it short while I still could. I was not, however, going to let his cunning sister Gwen in on my feelings of self-doubt and dread.
Ari, dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, rose. I couldn’t take my eyes off his tanned, buff body. The sight of this godlike man who had ravaged me on the beach last night made my stomach flutter and insides ache. It hurt knowing I couldn’t have him.
“Sarah, I have to go back to the city this morning for an emergency business meeting. You’re free to stay here—my mother will be arriving shortly—and Gwen can take you home with Ben later. Or you can go back with me.”
His voice was matter-of-fact, almost cold. While I relished spending more time with Ari’s lovely mother and his delightful son, the thought of spending two hours in a car with his calculating sister was unbearable.
“I’ll go back with you,” I replied, aware of Gwen’s eyes on me.
“Fine. Please pack your bag. We’ll be leaving right after breakfast.”
We drove back to the city in Ari’s Bentley in silence, except for the Beethoven CD that played. Appassionata. He was brooding, but I didn’t dare ask him what was on his mind. My own mind was troubled too. How was I going to end it with him? Plus, I was worried about my mother; I was worried about Lauren, and I was worried about Jo-Jo. Fingers crossed Mrs. Blumberg had fed her and left her some water.
We made excellent time back into the city, missing the traffic that would for sure later clog up the roads when the long weekend came to a close. Ari dropped me off in front of my brownstone. He helped me with my bag and walked me to the front door. We shared another awkward stretch of silence until he finally broke it.
“I hope you enjoyed yourself, Sarah.” His voice was flat, and the way he said my name was clipped.
“Thanks. It was a great weekend.”
Anticipation, like a dangerous sparking wire, coursed through my body. Was he going to kiss me? Swoop me into his arms? Invite himself up to my apartment?
Instead, he gazed at me coolly. “I’ve got to go.”
Without touching me, he headed back to his car and took off. I longed for him to turn his head. Or even wave. He didn’t. Dammit. I should have ended it right then and there.
With a mixture of disappointment, sorrow, and regret, I watched as the Bentley rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight. Maybe I didn’t have to end it. Maybe he just had. His fear of commitment had gotten the better of him. Or I just wasn’t his supermodel type. Something in him had changed. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure that our relationship, if you could call it that, was over. Chances were I’d never see him again.
My heart heavy, I jammed the key into the front door, but no matter how much I jiggled it, I couldn’t get the damn door to open. Just my luck. I buzzed Mrs. Blumberg’s apartment, but there was no answer. And then, Mr. Costanzo’s, the pizza man. No answer. Great. I was locked outside.
As I lowered myself to the stoop and moped, Mrs. Blumberg came bursting out the front door with her shopping cart. There wasn’t a single day that went by that she didn’t shop for groceries. I suppose it gave her something to do.
“Young lady, didn’t your mother ever tell you that you could get infections down there from sitting on a dirty stoop?”
My “down there” throbbed. Once again, I felt robbed. Physically and emotionally.
Shaking her head in dismay, the elderly woman held the door open for me with her cart. I thanked her for taking care of Jo-Jo and trudged up the stairs with my pink overnight bag, filled with the clothes Ari bought me. Fortunately, I had no problem opening the door to my apartment.
Jo-Jo, with a loud hungry meow, greeted me and rubbed her head against my ankles. I threw my bag on the floor and hurried to the kitchen to feed her.
I checked my messages. None. Opened my refrigerator. Nothing. I decided I might as well use the rest of the day to try to find a second job to help pay for my mother’s treatments. Later, I would call her. And tonight, I would start on Catherine’s bookings. Fingers crossed the Internet was back up and running.
Not wasting time, I changed into my trusty combat boots and hit the pavement, still wearing one of Ari’s sundresses—and pantyless. The ache between my legs, which rivaled the ache in my heart, made it impossible to forget him as I combed the empty streets in search of part-time work. Most of the local restaurants were closed because of the holiday—including Mr. Costanzo’s pizza joint—and the few that were open had no employment opportunities. Exhausted and depressed after three futile hours of looking, I trudged back to my apartment in the late afternoon.
The first thing I did was call my mother. She sounded upbeat, a little stronger than usual. I tried to sound cheery, telling her that I had a nice weekend at the beach. While I wanted to pour my heart out to the person who was my best friend in life and confidant, I refrained because I didn’t want to pull down her spirits. Of course, I didn’t tell her about the insurance problem and, in fact, still had no idea how I was going to break that news to her. I told her that I was looking forward to seeing her again on Friday. By the end of the conversation, my mother sounded tired. We exchanged “I love you’s” and I hung up the phone.
I fed Jo-Jo again, and then boiled some water to make a cup of ramen noodles before starting in on my boss’s assignments. A loud rap at the door diverted my attention, and I turned off the stove. It must be Mrs. Blumberg. The busybody probably wanted to hear all about my weekend.
I slumped toward the door and peered through the peephole. My heart dropped to my stomach. It was him!