Chapter 16
SARINA
A few hours have passed since I had my impromptu meeting at Tomás’ penthouse and I’m now sitting in the same chair at The Wilted Flower that I was in with him. Except now, I’m in the middle of the row my sister Harper’s bridal party has created, taking over this side of the bar.
We haven’t been here long and I’m already yawning, ready to go home and call it a night. I’ve been in my work clothes all damn day since I went directly to the hotel Harper is staying at after leaving Tomás’, and I feel my leggings and sweatshirt calling my name.
“If you yawn again, I’m going to smack you.” Harper laughs mid-sip of her wine.
“Stop lying.”
She sets her glass down. Leaning closer to me, she takes a dramatic inhale.
“Am I hallucinating or did you just sniff me?”
Harper’s friend, Michelle, who is sitting to my left, chimes in… also giving me a quick sniff.
Feeling self-conscious, I lift my arm to see if I smell. There’s rarely a day that goes by that I’m not in a rush to leave my apartment, and it wouldn’t be the first time I forgot deodorant, though all I smell as I incessantly sniff… is my deodorant. All good on that front.
“Relax, Ri, you smell good,” Michelle says nonchalantly as a new martini is placed in front of her, thus stealing her attention.
“Who is he?” Harper asks.
“Who is who?”
Harper slaps my lap. “The guy who was close enough to you to leave his Tom Ford cologne mark on you.”
I lift my arm again, this time pressing my fingers to the end of the sleeve, squeezing it as I bring the fabric to my nose.
Immediately the woodsy notes filter their way through my nostrils.
The scent is so distinct, even in the remnants left on my clothes, that it tricks my senses into thinking Tomás is here.
My stomach twists, as it has a habit of doing when I’m around him, and a smile stretches my lips so wide there’s no stopping it.
Harper’s loose hands graduate to my shoulders for another slap.
“Easy, Harper.” I eye her wineglass.
She shrugs. “Sorry, I get excited when I drink.”
I chuckle. “Umm, about cologne?”
“No, about whose cologne is lingering on my sister. So, spill. Now.”
Before I can say anything, Harper squirms in her seat excitedly. “Wait, is it, ah, what’s his name? Tom?”
The butterflies that invade my stomach from Tomás’ cologne dissipate and in its place is a sinking feeling. “You mean Tomás?”
Harper snaps her fingers. “Yes! That’s it! I couldn’t remember the name Mom told me.”
Fuck my life.
This is what I get for lying.
I part my lips, ready to tell her the truth, but she says something that stops me.
“I overheard him telling Ma that he thought you were lying. But you know how he is. Ever the pessimist.”
“Hold up, Dad said what?”
I don’t know what’s more concerning, the fact that my gut is telling me my dad likely assumed I was lying, causing him to push up the wedding to call my bluff, or that Harper is constantly brushing off his shitty behavior.
“He’s not a pessimist, Harper. He’s a fucking asshole.” The words come out harsh, giving off the illusion of anger, but they sting as they roll off my tongue.
“He’s… Dad.” Harper leaves it at that, and so do I.
She knows I’m right, and I hate that I am. And we both know he’s not going to change. Yes, he’s an asshole, but admitting that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
“Anyway, tell me more about Tomás. Is he—”
I can lie to my dad no problem, in fact it’s easier that way, but I’m not going to lie to my sister. “I’m his new Paralegal.”
“Wait. You’re dating your boss?” Excitement laces itself in her tone.
“He’s not really my boss. He’s just the attorney I work with.”
“Or under.” She jabs me again with her elbow.
“Ouch.” I laugh.
“Office romances are so hot. I love this for you. You seem happy, Ri. Seriously. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you happy.” I don’t have the heart to tell her the full truth like I want to. The sentiment in her voice grows irritated. “Especially since James.”
“Shh.” I reach for her hand, rubbing it. “Let’s not talk about him.”
“Say less. I hate him.”
“Me too.”
Our moment is disrupted by a round of lemon drops being passed out. We all hang out for another drink, and excitement grips me when one of Harper’s bridesmaids asks for the check so we can settle our tab.
“Ri, are you coming back to the hotel to hang?”
I take my phone out of my purse, illuminating the lock screen for the time. Not that it makes a difference, since I plan on Ubering back to my apartment.
We all walk out together, just as the Uber my sister and her friends ordered pulls up, with mine estimated to arrive in two minutes.
“Well, get home or to Tomás’ place safe.” She winks.
“I will get to my home just fine,” I reassure Harper, leaving it at that, not bothering to correct her as I hug her goodbye.
Seconds later my phone vibrates with a text.
Speak of the devil.
Tomás
I hate to bother you on your night out, but did you by chance get my email?
I close out of the text and navigate to my email app to see not one, but multiple cc’d emails.
I’m so sorry, I’ll catch up on them now
Tomás
I may have fucked up. I’m going to need you to have the title search to me sooner than I had mentioned
My Uber pulls up and, just my luck —which is nonexistent— I drop my fucking phone as I sit down. Okay, no big deal there. Except, why would it be that simple?Nothing in my life is ever simple. It’s why I’m now hearing my name spoken out loud from a very smooth and very familiar voice.
“Sarina?”
My eyes pinch shut.
Please tell me I didn’t accidentally FaceTime him.
My name sounds again, followed by an “Are you okay?”
I slowly open my eyes to see Tomás’ face on my screen.
“Sorry, I dropped my phone getting into the Uber.”
“It’s all good.”
I notice him grin then try to cover it up with his hand.
“Are you okay?” I ask him, noticing his gaze lower.
I take momentary relief in the lack of eye contact, using it as an opportunity to look away for a second to possibly get my bearings.
Big mistake.
Somehow in the however many seconds it took me to drop my phone and retrieve it, the buttons to my blazer opened.
I didn’t feel like changing after I went to Tomás’ earlier, so to make my outfit look less like work attire and more bachelorette party appropriate, I took off the camisole and bra underneath, only buttoning two of the four buttons.
Frantically, I button my blazer with one hand, still holding my phone in the other, wondering why I haven’t hung up already.
Refusing to look at the screen, I try to redirect the conversation, skating over my wardrobe malfunction.
“Like I said, I’m sorry I missed your emails, I’ll catch up on them as soon as I get home.
I’m going to hang up now.” My thumb ghosts over the red circle on the screen to hang up.
“Wait!” Tomás exclaims, and it’s something in the way his voice sounds, desperate, needy, that allows my gaze to lift to meet his through the screen. “On second thought, forget the emails.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m positive.” His tongue swipes ever so subtly over his lips. “Do me a favor and take care of yourself tonight for me. I’ll take care of work. Sound good?”
A million inappropriate comebacks float through my head. I say none of them, opting for a subtle head tilt as I hang up the phone, finally able to breathe.
The nuance of what he said isn’t lost on me.
“Sure. I can do that,” I reply. My pussy is throbbing from his innuendo alone.
I will one hundred percent be taking care of myself and attending to this ache he caused between my legs as soon as I get home.
I just hope my vibrator —Pedro— is charged.
“Atta girl.”
Oh my god, stop.
“If that’s all, I should get going.” My voice trapped in a breathy whisper.
“Of course.”
My finger hovers over the end button. I know I need to press it but somehow can’t.
We stare at each other for a few seconds more, neither of us saying anything until he is the first to break the silent standoff we find ourselves in.
“I like the blue,” he says. Simple enough, thought it’s the way he says it mixed with the look in his eyes that has my attention.
It takes me a second to process that he’s referring to the blue topaz I have on each end of my nipple piercing.
I swallow, thickly. The nervous energy running rampant throughout my body only increases as he speaks again. “It matches your eyes. Which so happen to be my favorite color.”
“You’re just saying that,” I deflect, brushing off the compliment.
“I’m serious.”
“Right. So the color of my eyes and the gems on my nipple piercings so happen to be your favorite color?”
I don’t know why I won’t take the compliment or why I’m not letting this go but it doesn’t seem to matter to him, he remains calm, confident in his response, patiently waiting for me to stop spiraling.
“Yes. It is now.”
Before I can say anything, his dimples disappear as his expression grows stern. Not in a rude way, but in a way that commands my attention, as if it would be anywhere else but on him. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. I’ve seen you in more compromising positions.”
I bite my lip, suppressing a grin.
“Even if this…” He pauses, “if we can’t happen. I’m still going to compliment you every chance I get.”
“Why?” My voice is barely above a whisper. It’s all I can get out. My throat feels tight.
“Because you need to hear it. You deserve to. Have a good night, Sarina.”
He ends the call abruptly, and it finally feels like I can breathe, for the first time in a very long time.