Broken Angel Page 2

  “Sarah, tell me,” he urges when I say nothing.

  Not looking at him and instead down at the bubbles in the tub. “Scars.” OMG did I really just say that. What the hell is wrong with my brain? The filter that is normally there seems to be on vacation and whatever my brain thinks just comes out. Why has my guard let down? What the hell is going on?

  The muscle in his jaw twitched and a flash of anger sparked in his eyes. He doesn’t even know my story but he got mad. Just as quickly as it was there he reigned in the control and a cool look was replaced.

  “Oh. Want to tell me about it?” Decker says like this is a normal everyday conversation and we’re sitting on the couch and not naked in a tub.

  The burning tears pricked the back of my eyes like they always do when this subject is brought up. I squeezed my eyes shut and begged myself silently to not start crying in front of him. Please hold it together. Please. Please. Don’t show this man any more of your weaknesses. I just shook my head no.

  “Ok,” he said. “Maybe, someday?”

  “I don’t know. It’s not something I like to talk about,” I barely whispered still looking down and not at him, so afraid that if I did look into his eyes I would spill my whole horrible story to him.

  “When you’re comfortable you will.” It was more of a statement of order than anything else.

  Will I ever be comfortable to tell someone about one of the worst day in my life? Very few people know the real story. Plus this man is my boss. One that in two weeks when his leg is at almost full strength and he won’t need help any more I won’t be seeing again. Or at least I hoped I wouldn’t see again, because I’m just not good enough for him. “Is there something you wanted?” I finally got out of my mouth. Finally a real thought, whooo.

  He turned his head into a sideways glance trying to get me to lift my face and look at him. “I was hoping we could go out for dinner tonight? It has been so long since I got to go to a restaurant.”

  “Oh, is there something wrong with my cooking?” I questioned finally looking up at him raising a brow and splashing him with water. Oh fuck, did I really just do that. When the hell did this situation turn friendly and flirty?

  He quickly and swiftly grabbed one of my feet and yanked me closer to him. My one hand went flying up to clutch the towel to my chest, my other hand landing on his chest to steady myself. The heat that I was feeling felt scorching hot, the thought of my hand mark burned on his chest briefly crossed my mind. I quickly removed my hand and placed it on the side of the tub. Almost instantly I missed his skin and I could have sworn I heard a sigh escape his lips when I let him go.

  His face was a mere two inches from mine, it would be so easy to kiss him. His stare turning into something I have never seen. Something sultry! I wanted to run my tongue across his jaw. My throat and lips suddenly becoming very dry. I had to run my tongue across my lips to wet them and as I did that muscle in Decker’s jaw twitched again, except this time I don’t think it was because of anger.

  Oh God why did I agree to stay the weekend? I have never stayed the weekend let alone the night. A few weeks after I started I helped Decker hire a night nurse, Maggie, who came every night to relieve me and another girl, Jen, who would do weekends; both who seemed to somehow come down with the flu this weekend. At the same time! Why, why, why!!! Don’t show weakness. Don’t show how much this is a turn on.

  “No. I love your cooking. Just after weeks of you making every meal every day, I thought I would do something nice and give you a break and take you out. Plus, now that the cast is off I can finally walk somewhat normal.”

  “I don’t know. You’re so high profile and if someone gets a picture of us together it will be everywhere.” Oh quit making up excuses you know you want to go!

  “So?” he said moving his face an inch closer to mine.

  I took in his sweet smelling breath. It smells like my cinnamon buns, he must have just had one from the fresh batch I left on the counter before taking a bath. “You know I have a boyfriend,” I said stuttering. I couldn’t think with him this close to me.

  Oh yes, the douche bag, Shawn, who I’ve given fourteen years of my life to and still refuses to marry me. Until this job with Decker Jensen, I sat home raising his kids from a previous marriage, who hate me and did everything evil and mean they possibly could do to send me to bed crying every night. To raise our daughter who is the light of my life, but still not a good enough reason to marry me.

  The man who every weekend in the winter from December to March would disappear to go snowmobiling and to do God knows what else. The man who has mentally abused me into thinking my life is no longer mine to control.

  Don’t cry, please don’t cry. I can feel the tears pricking and burning my eyes again. I squeezed them shut as tight as I could, hoping that one wouldn’t escape.

  “You know you’re too good for him,” Decker said. He must have seen the tears welling up inside me and felt the need to squash them somehow.

  Talking about my boyfriend and the kids was the one personal thing I allowed in this work relationship. Ever since my third day on the job when I showed up at his apartment crying, even after my hour drive into the city I couldn’t stop. Took him almost another hour to get me to calm down and talk about the fight we had.

  Inches from his face, staring into to his hazel-green eyes and smelling his sweet breath I couldn’t do anything but shrug. I really wanted to kiss him, but that would be crossing a line. Ugh!

  He pushed me so I once again I was leaning back against the tub, but he kept my foot in his hand. Staring at me, burning a hole into my dark tormented soul, trying to will something out of me, he started to rub the souls of my feet. Oh God that feels so good. My body temperature rising, so hot I feel like the water around us will start to boil soon.

  “I don’t have anything nice to wear. All I brought were leggings, and T-shirts,” I finally said after a few minutes.

  Oh fuck, did I just say that.

  “I figured as much,” Decker said as he dropped my foot and took the other one and started to rub, never taking his eyes off mine. Never looking anywhere but at my face. “I had some dresses, shoes, and accessories sent over. Don’t worry everything will fit; I checked your clothes for your size. I hope you don’t mind.”

  My mouth dropped open again. Holy crap did this man have no boundaries. Why does it really not even bother me that he was looking through my stuff? Why do I feel like I’m about to float to the ceiling? Why do I feel this fluttery feeling in my stomach that I haven’t felt in a very long time and should not be feeling with him?

  Stop it! You are not allowed to feel this way about him. You are not allowed to let yourself fall for his charm and good looks. You are not allowed to have feelings for him. You will never have a life with him, it’s not possible. He’s so out of your league!

  I just nodded my head and half smiled. I closed my eyes and just let his hands rub my foot. He didn’t try to move closer, he didn’t move his hand further up my leg. He just rubbed my foot.

  After what seemed like forever, but was probably only five minutes, he dropped my foot. I opened my eyes and looked into his. He smiled and started to remove himself from the tub. His muscles rippled, as water and bubbles dripped down his orgasmic body. Oh God. Oh God he has an ass to die for. As he grabbed for a towel he turned toward me, his erection not full but still strong. Oh God what I would do to have him in me, moving in and out, making me reach higher and higher for my orgasm and then explode around him. Stop thinking like that. Fuck! Fuck! He looked down at me, bent and kissed the top of my head then proceeded to walk away like nothing every happened.

  When I heard the door click and I knew I was alone again I exhaled a breath I didn’t even know I was holding and sank to the bottom of the tub with a shuddered. What the fuck did I just agree to? Am I seriously headed out into public with Decker Jensen?

  Letting the water drain from the tub I proceeded to head to the huge shower. Damn this thing can
fit like ten people in it. What is with this guy? An apartment overlooking Central Park with four bedrooms, tubs made for five and showers that will hold even more people. This guy lives alone, is a known bachelor and has been quoted many times as saying he would not settle down till his career was over which was at least five years away, so why did he need all this room.

  Washing my hair, shaving, and just standing under the shower did nothing for my frazzled nerves. Finally drying off and I headed back into my room.

  ~~~

  My mouth dropped open again. Crap, holy shit, fuck, damn, fuck, damn, my Jersey trucker mouth was ringing off in my head. Against the wall was a clothes rack at least ten feet long. Fuck! It was loaded with dresses, coats, shawls, you name it and it was on there. Different lengths, styles, colors, fabrics, Christian Dior, Versace, Valentino, Chanel, Alexander McQueen.

  “Oh my God, fucking Jimmy Choo shoes. Shit, Christian Louboutin shoes! How am I ever going to decide? I don’t even know where we’re going?”

  I sat on the edge of the bed with my head in my hands. I really should back out. I really shouldn’t do this. I should climb into my sweats and crawl into bed and hide.

  Grabbing my cell I did the only thing I could think of, I sent Decker a text:

  *Where are we going?*

  His response came less than a minute later:

  *It’s a surprise.*

  Oh come on really. How can I decide with that vague of an answer?

  *How do I decide what to wear if I don’t know where we are going?*

  It seemed to take forever to get a response. Staring at the rack I just keep pulling clothes off and replacing them. Finally the phone dings,

  *Formal. It has also started to snow so choose wisely.*

  Ugh, really that’s all he’s going to give me. Formal. Formal can mean so many things. Well let’s figure this out. Plugging the iPod into the surround sound system I turn it on and blast it. Just as U2’s It’s a Beautiful Day comes pumping through the surround sound speakers, I spot it. The dress that has been waiting for me to find it and I have been waiting all my life for, the sexy black number by Zac Posen.

  Placing the dress on the bed ever so gently, I turn to stare at it. “Wow $2,990. Shit! I’ve never had an outfit that cost this much. I’ve never had anything that cost that much. I mean really who buys this stuff. Right Decker Jensen does,” I mumble. The long lace sleeves are so soft it feels like it can rip just from touching it.

  Turning toward the dresser to the right of the rack I go to grab a pair of my panties and a bra, but I notice the boxes sitting on top. I open them slowly. They’re stuffed with every color and style bra and panty I could possibly think of from designers I never heard of. Removing a pair of black lace boy cut shorts I said, “Fuck, $350 for underwear, you have to be freaking kidding me.” I find the matching corset and garter belt and begin to dress. Sliding on the black silk stocking almost gave me an orgasm. I have never felt anything so soft and silky.

  Looking in the mirror with just my undergarments on for the first time in years I feel sexy. Even the douche bag boyfriend would have to agree. But just to be an ass he wouldn’t. He would point out the baby gut that has never really gone away, or the hips that are too wide, or my butt that no one could ever love but him because it’s just a little too big. How would he put it, oh yes, ‘that ass is so big that no one would want to be seen with you because they would have to walk around holding your ass from dragging on the ground. That’s why I don’t take you anywhere.’

  But most of all he would point at my scars and remind me that no one but him would ever love me because my scars left me half a woman and that was disgusting for most men to look at. Thank God I haven’t done my makeup yet because the tears are streaming down my face faster than Niagara Falls.

  Grabbing my phone I press two buttons and hit send.

  “Hey,” the soft friendly voice said when she answered the phone.

  “Hey,” I respond through tears and sobs.

  “What did that fucking shit head do now?” She was pissed now.

  “Chrissy, for once he actually didn’t do a thing, per say.”

  Chrissy McAllen has been my best friend since fourth grade. She has been the one constant thing in my life. She has held my hand through so many things it’s unbelievable. Boys, bullies, death, siblings, parents, and life as teenagers and young adults we lived through it all together. I could never hide anything from her. She knew things before I even figured them out for myself. She would give it to me straight and I would give it right back. No matter how many times we would get into a fight we never stayed mad each other for more than two hours.

  “Then why are you crying like that, Sarah? He had to do something; you never cry that hard unless he has done something.”

  “He’s actually upstate with the kids for the weekend. I’m staying at Decker’s for the weekend; both the relief aides got the flu. So don’t go over analyzing this.”

  “Ok.” I can hear the mischievousness in her voice, she was already over analyzing me being here. I know she wants to question me about staying at Decker’s or the very least make some wise ass sexual comment. “Then I don’t understand. What’s the issue? Why are you crying?”

  “Well Decker asked me to dinner. Before you go all ballistic with the questions, it’s just to give me a break. He finally got the cast off yesterday and can walk normal again and wanted to take me out as a thank you.” I didn’t dare tell her that he asked while sitting in a bath tub with me, oh there would be no way I would ever get out, we’d be on the phone for hours if I did.

  “Ok, again I don’t understand. What’s the issue?”

  “Well, I didn’t pack anything to go out because we never had. So when he asked me to dinner I tried giving him the excuse that I had no clothes, but he shrugged like it was nothing and said that he bought me some things and I could wear one of them.”

  “Again, Sarah, for the third time, I don’t understand. What’s the issue?”

  “Well, Chrissy, I’m now standing here in almost $1,000 worth of lingerie staring at myself in the mirror, actually thinking I look sexy. Finally smiling like I really am happy and not that fake smile I’ve learned to perfect. But then I hear his voice ringing in my ears. Pointing out all my insecurities, throwing my scars in my face and now I just don’t know if I can go to dinner. I mean it’s freaking Decker Jensen and I’m nobody.”

  “Wait, did you just say $1,000 in lingerie?” Ignoring all the other things I just said.

  “Yeah, but that’s not my issue.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, no man buys a woman $1,000 worth of lingerie without some type of feeling there. But ok the real issue. Please don’t let that shit head get into your head. You are too good for him and his little devils…sorry kids.”

  “Please don’t make me laugh.” I giggled through my tears.

  “Oh but if I do then maybe you will begin to see yourself in a new light and maybe try that real smile out more than normal. Plus you’re about to hit fucking NYC with fucking Decker Jensen. I mean really you’re about to fucking live every girls fucking fantasy.” There is her Jersey trucker mouth going!

  “Wanna know how much the dress is that I picked out?” I said laughing.

  “That a girl. Tell me how much.”

  “Chrissy, I hope you’re sitting down…$2,990. It’s a freaking Zac Posen. Plus there is a rack here full of probably twenty dresses priced the same. Plus shoes and underwear and bras and jewelry and stockings and coats…”

  “Ok, I get it you have like $200,000 worth of clothes right there. Doesn’t that mean something that this hot shot, super sexy, all-star, New York freaking Yankee wants to take you on a date?” I can hear the smile on her face. “Hell, you’re living my fucking dream. Tell you what, don’t even hang up the phone with me just put it in your purse and let me live your date in real time!”

  “Chrissy, you always make me smile and forget my issues. Now I just hope I can get through this dinner witho
ut having a nervous breakdown or a panic attack and make a real fool of myself.”

  “Sarah, just make sure the iPod is in your purse. Oh yeah did he give you any purses?”

  “Yeah there’s like ten of them. I think I’m going to choose one of the Coaches. You know me and my Coach purses, except I don’t think he got these off eBay.”

  We both laughed at that one. I could not picture Decker buying anything off eBay. Yet that’s how I can afford things, used and cheap where he is new and expensive. One more thing to prove that we are so different and don’t belong together.

  “Probably not. Just make sure you have your iPod and if you need me I’m always a call away. Now go put on that dress and pair of sexy heels…oh wait, what kind of shoes?”

  “I have a bunch but I think I’m going to choose either the Jimmy Choos or the Christian Louboutin’s. Both are a dream come true. Maybe I’ll wear one of each and then I won’t have to decide.”

  “Sarah, you’re headed out on the date of your fucking life, don’t you dare wear two different shoes.” She sounded like a mother about to ground one of her kids for wearing something in public that was inappropriate.

  “I know. I’m just so overwhelmed.”

  “Maybe you should consider talking to him and telling him about the scars; the physical and mental ones. You never know he may not run away.”

  “No, I can’t do that. He’d walk away like everyone else.”

  I hated my scars. From the second I got them I have dreamed of the day I could erase it all. But it never happens. Every morning I wake up and they’re still there a very real and painful memory. I was barely seventeen when I got them. I was still a baby and very naïve trying to live in a very grown up world. Then one day it all came crashing down. My world was never the same. I was never the same and I hated that. I hated the self confidence I lost that day. I hated that I lost myself.

  “Listen, just go get ready, take a damn picture and send it to me then go have fun with Decker Jensen. You know I expect details by Monday and I will be checking all the paparazzi sites tomorrow for any news.”