A Soul Mate's Promise (4 page)

“Fast, huh?” I ask. “How fast?”

“Well, it’s four-hundred horse power–which in the early 90s was something. It has a six speed manual transmission and Lamborghini helped with the design to get some of the weight off the engine. The making of this car was very impressive for back then. It’s unique–I like unique things.”

As he proceeds to tell me about the car, he strides up next to me, very close, so close I can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the scent of him mixed with the salt of the sea from his run. He opens the hood for me.

“It opens backwards?” I ask.

“Yep, unique!” he says.

I peek at the engine that says
VIPER
in bold letters and looks almost too big for the car. “That looks like something out of a sci fi movie.”

He laughs, shuts the hood, then leans on the side of the car so he can face me.

“You know,” he goes on, “some people have considered this to be the sexiest car of it’s day, describing the body as passionate, voluptuous and complex.”

“R-R-really?” I stammer, raising an eyebrow as I try to stay cool and composed.  I’m getting turned on just listening to him chatter about the Viper.
Is he flirting and comparing me to this sexy little sports car? Could I be that lucky?

“Some thought the Viper shouldn’t have been sold legally in the United States.”

“Oh? How come?”.

“Well, because it’s like a stripped down car, no anti lock breaks, and all that safety stuff.”

“The inside looks different,” I say. “The steering wheel looks small in a way”.

“Yeah, that’s because there’s no air bags, just steering wheel.”

“No air bags? You better hope you don’t ever get hit in this thing!” I groan.

He smiles, then laughs. “Now you sound like my mother used too, minus the accent!”

“Well?” he asks, “what do you think? You wanna go into town in the beast?”

I look up at him, my eyes wide in surprise. “Definitely,
yes
!”

“Okay then,” he laughs. “Be ready in half an hour, can you do that? I’ll meet you right outside your front door.”

“See you in thirty.” I answer.
 

CHAPTER 5

Camille sat in an area of Richard’s office at BOUMONT & SON INC. The affluence oozed from the expensive décor made her all but shiver with delight.

Though she’d come away looking something of a gold digger for nabbing Richard away from poor little Gracie, it didn’t keep her up at night. She was a southern woman and she was entitled to get what she went after. And if the debutante bitches at the Southern Woman’s Society didn’t embrace her, what did she care? They hadn’t exactly treated little Gracie much better.

I got what I need– I’m on the top and laughing all the way to the bank!

She looked over at Richard reading over some papers.

“Darling,” she said, “would you care to go to the club for lunch this afternoon? Or should I have Jessica make a deli run and we can have a quiet lunch in?”

“Hmmmm?” he replied not looking up at her. “Oh, ahh lunch, just get some sandwiches sent up. I’ve gotta get this deal worked out before next week’s deadline,” he said flatly.

“Fine. What would you like then, turkey or a Rueben?”

“Oh, a Rueben sounds great,” he said. “Make sure it’s not too greasy. I want rye bread with no seeds, and lightly toasted, not too much of the Russian dressing, and make sure it’s hot.” he demanded. “Last time it got cold and gummy and I just couldn’t eat it.”

Camille arched a well-defined brow. “Really, darling I’m not going to
ge
t it. I’m sending the secretary. I can tell her all of that but do you honestly think it will happen? Why don’t you get something more accommodating to your needs?”

“Camille, why don’t
you
call it in for me according to my needs. This way it just has to be picked up!”

“Okay Richard, okay,” she said under her breath.

Camille was learning pretty fast that Richard had a very high maintenance personality, which sometimes exhausted her, but she could overlook anything if her bank balance improved. She got on the phone to the deli and just about begged for Richard’s sandwich to come out the way he wanted. Once the lunch order was placed, she hit the call button to Jessica’s desk, and asked her to go pick their lunch up and deliver it to their offices.

Camille took a deep cleansing breath and braced herself for her next question.

“Richard, she asked softly. “What’s happening with the divorce proceedings?”

Richard looked up, his eyes wide.

“Oh crap, that’s just an other thing on my plate to deal with. I’d just as soon give Gracie what she wants and be done with it. Could be final in a matter of days at that point.”

“Richard, you can’t be serious!” Camille gasped. “She has never done anything for the company, she doesn’t even understand what we do here. She didn’t even like hosting parties for your clients– you used to say that she was going to say something to embarrass you —and.. you want to give her a percentage of our profits? For what? Honestly, I’m clueless!”

“Well,” he surmised, “she gave me money to open the other office downtown. I never paid her back and it’s half in her name. I did that while we were still good, or so I thought. I have people working on it. Don’t sweat something that you shouldn’t be concerned about.”

Oh, but Camille
was
concerned.
That little bitch wants out, let her get out without a dime.
She didn’t go to college like I did, and work hard to get where I am. No, Gracie is not part of the plan.

*       *       *

Up and over the bridge, and into town Sal drives us in the Viper, roaring down streets. At the stoplights, Sal revs up the engine and people on the street stare at the shiny unique sports car that was loud, passionate, voluptuous and complex!

I giggle every time and feel the engine vibrate through my whole body. Sal’s brother Joe had placed a C.D. player in the car a while back, and we decide to crank up some Van Halen’s Greatest Hits.

One of my favorite songs is, “Right Now” with Sammy Hagar, and we blast it out of the car for the whole town to hear! It’s really nice to just let loose and have some fun. I’m singing along, enjoying the wind in my face when Sal looks over at me.

“Am I driving too fast for you? Am I making you nervous at all?”

“Oh, no! You’re fine!” I shout over the music and engine throb. “Who knew running errands could be this much fun?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Good I’m glad you’re having fun. Now, where to first? The pet store?”

I nod my head.

He turns up the main drag and pulls into what we call a town center. When we park the car, I remember a story. No idea why, but I blurt it out to Sal.

“I was going to ask for a job here once and Richard talked me out of it. I thought it would be cool to work with the animals and stuff. He thought it would be embarrassing for his wife to work here and that I really didn’t need to work. I shouldn’t have listened to him. And I don’t know why I just told you that story., Sorry didn’t mean to air my crap on you.”

He chuckles. “No, no, it’s all right, although I can’t imagine what you could do to be embarrassing to him.”

“Well,” I say, “he didn’t want me working unless it was something substantial. I hated being home alone all day.. Richard’s mood swings exhausted me. I was never right. Dammed if I did and dammed if I didn’t.”

“What did you guys have in common in the first place?” Sal asks.

“You know what, Sal? I really can’t remember, and I really don’t care anymore.”

We go into the pet store and Sal maneuvers the shopping cart around the store. He lifts the heavy bag of dog food into the cart, then wrestles it into the little so called trunk. I got all warm and fuzzy having him help me. I feel flutters–he even makes sure my seat belt is secure.

“Oh, umm, I have to go to my attorney’s office. Leonard Burnes over on Windmere Avenue. I’ll show you where.”

“I think I know where that is. My re-habilitation doctor is over there, I had a session already.”

“How is your shoulder doing?” I ask. “You were very lucky that’s all the damage you took. It must be scary always being in the line of fire.”

“Well,” he says with a shrug. “Like a cop or fireman you just do it, don’t think or you’ll choke. The world is a crazy mad place these days.”

“Yes, it is”! I agree. “I’m glad we have heroes like you protecting us everyday.”

His face transforms into stone he’s obviously uncomfortable. “Thanks... I don’t feel much like a hero.”

“Oh yes you are,” I insist. But his discomfort is growing. “I’m sorry Sal, I don’t want to upset you, See? This is what my Ex used to say I embarrassed him about by not knowing when to keep quiet. I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Gracie. You said nothing wrong, it’s just a little hard to talk about sometimes. How were you supposed to know? It’s really kind of nice talking to you about it. You make me feel calm. I don’t know why, but you do. Pop says you have a kind heart. I guess I can feel it too.”

I just sit there in a stunned silence. I stumble when I try to speak. “Wow, thank you Sal. That’s really nice of you to say!”

“Hey,” he says, “sometimes I don’t stick my foot in my big mouth like Pop might have told you.”

“Nope, he hasn’t really told me much about you. Why don’t I just let you do that from now on, Sal, sound good?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m good with that,” he says, and gives me a very handsome cleft-chin smile. And to my surprise makes me chuckle.

Sal turns the key in the ignition and once again the Viper roars to life like a waking lion. And, we are off. We pull up to the first traffic light and I feel Sal’s warm brown eyes on me.

“You know what, Princess? You’ve got the best laugh! It’s very contagious.”

“Thank you.” I smile shyly “So tell me,” I ask. “This Princess thing, is this now my nickname? Because, truly I’m so
no
t a Princess. Far from it, or is that the irony of the nickname?”

He just smiles. “Hmmm, I don’t know,” he shrugs. “My first impression of you, it popped in my head. But after talking with you, and knowing that Pop thinks very highly of you, I see it differently. Don’t take it the wrong way, but you remind me of a damsel in distress. I don’t know why, but,
Princess
seems to fit. I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” I say. “A damsel in distress huh? Maybe more like under a lot of stress.”

He pulls up to the door of the office building and asks me if I want his company, but I decline.

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll be right here then.”

The door says “Leonard Burns Divorce Attorney” and as I walk into the office, I take a deep breath. Sometimes I’m still not sure this is really happening, at least not until I wake alone in Richard’s house and realize it has never been
my
house.

A young girl at a small glass desk with a computer and a headset looks up at me and smiles. She was very pretty, in a new age or Goth kind of way. She had a small diamond stud on the side of her nostril and black nail polish on her long fingernails. She’s dressed very professionally, and her makeup looked like a super model’s. I border on being envious of how together she seems when I’m always feeling like I’m falling apart. “Hi, I’m Gracie Boumont,” I say. “I’m supposed to sign some papers for Leonard? He told me to just swing by any time today. Is he here?”

“Yes Mrs. Boumont, I have your papers right here. And no, he’s not in right now, he’s at court.”

“Oh, okay. Could you run off copies for me so I can have them for my own files?”

“Yes of course,” she says with a smile that makes the stud in her nose twinkle. “I did that already. A Mr. Antonio Petroni called. He asked if I could do that for you. Is that your dad?”

“No,” I reply with a smile of my own. “But he acts like one.”

She hands me a ton of paper with legal mumbo jumbo written on it. It may as well be in Chinese. I take a deep breath and will myself not to break into a sweat but it isn’t working. The anxiety is a knot in my chest and it’s hard to breathe

“Are you all right, Mrs. Boumont?” the young woman asks.

I nod and look at her. “Yes, it’s just all this legal talk I just don’t understand. Makes me very nervous.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Burns knows what he’s doing. That’s what you pay lawyers for, right?” she asks. “These papers let Mr. Burns go to the court and get permission to collect your husband’s financial information. See the yellow tabs? Just sign on the lines where I indicated for you. Don’t worry, Mrs. Boumont. Come in the little conference room right here and make yourself comfortable.”

When she calls me Mrs. Boumont for the second time in five minutes, I cringe. “Call me Gracie, please.”

“Okay, Gracie,” she says, “would you like a bottle of cold water?”

“Yes please, that would be great,” I mutter, following her into the room directly off the waiting room. She leaves the door open which is a relief because I swear the walls are closing in.

As she leaves to get the water, I look at the stack of papers in front of me on the table that’s polished so well that I can see my reflection. I don’t look very good and take another deep breath.
I can do this…

Before I start searching for the all-important yellow sticky tabs, Sal walks in. I look up at him a little surprised

“What are you doing? I thought you were gonna wait in the car? Are you okay?”

He shrugs and gives me that lopsided grin. “Yeah, I’m fine. By the look on your face, I should be asking you that question. I was sitting in the car and I just thought you might need some moral support.”

Just then the Goth secretary comes back with a bottle of spring water and hands it to me. She ignores Sal, though I have no idea what woman could do that.

“Are you feeling better?” she asks me, her concern clear.

“Why? What happened?” Sal asks as he kneels beside my chair and puts his hand on my shoulder.

“She got a bit shaky and short of breath. I went to get her water. Sometimes that helps,” the secretary replies, looking as though she wished she was somewhere else.

“Really, it’s nothing,” I interrupt. “I’m fine. I just get anxiety attacks sometimes and I just got too nervous about all this paperwork – and what it all stands for, I guess.” I take a big sip of the water which is nice and cold going down my throat. “I’m fine really, feeling better already.” I can’t quite pull off a smile, but my breathing is steadier.

Sal pulls out a chair, sits down next to me and looks up at Goth Girl. “It’s okay, I got it from here.”

Sal looked me over. “Okay Gracie what happened, I understand anxiety.  That shit can be awful. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, honest.” I’m struggling not to let my frustration show. Since the divorce thing started, my self-confidence has decreased as the anxiety increased. “No big deal. I just got overwhelmed.” I wave my hand over the stack of neatly-typed paperwork. “I probably should read all this, but will I understand it all? It just freaked me out. I’ll be fine.”