Final Destination III Page 2

  The doorman chuckled. “Just like my thirteen-year-old daughter.” He gave me access to Lauren’s apartment. I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to the elevator.

  Thankfully, I was the sole person on the elevator and got to the fifteenth floor quickly. My heart was racing as I ran down the long hallway to Lauren’s corner apartment. I prayed that she hadn’t slit her wrist again! And that I wasn’t too late.

  When I tore into her apartment, Lauren was in the living room, sitting on her white shag carpet in a pool of vomit. A half-drunk bottle of white wine was next to her along with an empty container of aspirin. Her normally glorious hair was matted to her head, and tears were streaming down her vomit-coated face. She was sobbing uncontrollably.

  Panic charged through me as I ran to her side. “Oh God, Lauren, what have you done?”

  “I can’t live without Taylor,” she sobbed.

  “Fuck him!” I barked at her. “He’s a total creep! You deserve better.”

  Lauren clutched her stomach and upchucked again. Her eyes rolled back in head.

  “Lauren, we have to get you to a hospital!”

  “No!” she shrieked. “My parents will institutionalize me! Go away!” She began to convulse and sweat profusely.

  Oh, God! What was I going to do? Lauren would never forgive me if she ended up in a mental institution. And there was this to consider—if Lauren’s attempted suicide got out to the press, she and her family would never live it down. Think, Sarah, think!

  The answer came to me quickly. Ari. I pulled out my wallet from my messenger bag and fumbled through it for the hundred dollar bill with his cell phone number scribbled on it. He told me to call him if I ever had an emergency. This was an emergency.

  I found my cell phone and punched in the number. His phone rang and rang. Pick up, Ari. Please pick up. And then a voice. Cold and stinging.

  “Sarah.”

  “Ari, I need your help. I’m with Lauren. She’s overdosed on wine and aspirin.” I was speaking a mile a minute.

  His tone took on urgency. “Where are you?”

  I gave him Lauren’s address and apartment number.

  “I’ll be right there. In the meantime, see if she has any Gatorade. If not, make her drink water.” CLICK.

  I hurried to Lauren’s refrigerator, and miraculously, among all the Diet Cokes, I found a single bottle of Gatorade.

  “Drink this!” I urged Lauren when I returned to her side. She was still shaking and sweating buckets. I put the bottle to her lips, and to my relief, she slowly sipped the contents down. I prayed that Ari would get here soon. In the meantime, I managed to get Lauren cleaned up and into a fresh set of clothes. I noticed, for the first time, that she wasn’t wearing her five-carat engagement ring.

  The intercom buzzed ten minutes later. Ari! Pretending I was Lauren, I told the doorman to send him up. He fell for my impersonation.

  The doorbell rang. I ran to open it. I was not prepared for my reaction when I met him face to face. I thought my knees would buckle as my blood rushed to my head. He held me in his gaze for a brief moment—oh, those beautiful but unreadable gemstone eyes—and then sprinted past me to Lauren. Shaking, she had begun to hallucinate.

  “Fuck!” he said. “We need to get her to hospital right away.”

  I bit my lip.

  “Get me a blanket. And grab the bottle of wine and aspirin. They’ll need to analyze how much she consumed.” Without a word, I did exactly what he said.

  He scooped Lauren up in his arms, and I followed him out the door. The silence we shared in the elevator was tense. We avoided eye contact. I could not begin to imagine what was going on his head. As for me, there was a sick, sinking feeling that deepened as the elevator descended.

  The doorman gave us a strange look as we skirted past him. “Too much partying,” I told him. “She’ll be okay.” I only prayed.

  Ari’s Bentley was parked right outside the building. He loaded Lauren, who was now in a semi-conscious state, into the backseat and wrapped the blanket around her. A vision of him carrying his blanketed unconscious toddler son Ben into the hospital flashed in my head. I wondered if he was reliving that painful memory as I gazed at his solemn face.

  He opened the front passenger car door for me and then hopped into the driver’s seat. The car peeled off the curb. More silence.

  The car raced up Park Avenue. Finally, Ari broke the ice, but kept his eyes focused on the road. “I’m taking her to Lenox Hill Hospital. We’re almost there.”

  I told him about my concern about the negative publicity this incident might generate for Lauren and her family and the possibility that Lauren’s parents might send her away to some rehab clinic.

  “Don’t worry, Saarah.”

  I melted hearing him say my name.

  “We’re going to use a private backdoor entrance and check her in under a different name. No one except you and me will know about this incident. I’ve already taken care of everything.”

  I glanced back at Lauren. She was resting peacefully. Hope coursed through me. Ari had that effect on me. In his presence, I believed everything was possible. Everything would be okay. Even better than just okay. This godly man was a healer. Oh, how I loved him! But he wasn’t meant to be mine. I fought back the tears that threatened to leak out of my eyes.

  In no time, we reached the private entrance of Lenox Hill Hospital. An emergency team was already there waiting for us with a gurney. The paramedics quickly unloaded Lauren onto the stretcher, took her vitals, and hooked her up to a moveable IV. She looked so frail. So vulnerable. So helpless.

  As they rushed her through the entrance, the dam that was holding back my tears collapsed. A river poured down my cheeks, and I began to sob.

  “Oh, Ari, I’m so scared. What if she dies?”

  Ari blanketed me in his strong manly arms. I buried my tear-soaked face into his soft cotton tee as he caressed my tangled tresses.

  “Shhh, ” he whispered in my ear. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  He let me weep in that position for a long time. I don’t know how long I’d been there when he said, “Come on. Let’s find out how she’s doing.”

  I let him take my hand in his and lead me up to the fifth floor. The Benjamin M. Golden Pavilion. The wing was named after his father. My guess was that this is where he was treated for cancer and that the Golden family had donated the wing in his memory. It resembled the lobby of a luxury hotel, filled with expensive Persian rugs, plush leather couches and armchairs, and expensive works of art on the walls. Ari sat down on one of the couches while I, deliberately distancing myself from him, sat across the way in an armchair. My sobbing had subsided, but I was still very anxious.

  Ari glared at me, his blue eyes fierce. I knew what was coming and braced myself.

  “Saarah, why did you stand me up?” His lips thinned into an angry line, awaiting my response.

  My heart pounded, and I fidgeted with my fingers. Because your psycho ex-wife is my psycho boss! is what I wanted to scream out, but revealing this would just open a Pandora’s box with dire consequences for everyone.

  I had to work late? While that was a good excuse (although not exactly true), I could only keep that up for the rest of the workweek and would have to come up with another one to avoid seeing him over the weekend.

  My mind raced. Finally, I knew what to say. “I’m seeing someone else,” I mumbled. While I appeared calm on the outside, inside I was aching. Falling apart.

  Ari’s eyes grew steely. He said nothing, but his expression begged for information.

  “It’s someone at work. We’ve been seeing each other for a while, but decided to cool it for a bit. You know, to see if we really wanted to be a couple.”

  Ari listened silently and intensely, not blinking an eye.

  “I’ve missed him so much.” Oh God, was this hard!

  Ari’s eyes narrowed. “So, I see, Saarah. I’ve been a Band-Aid.”

  I felt sick-to-my-stomach ter
rible. “He told me today he wants me back.”

  Silence.

  “I’m going to move in with him.”

  Silence.

  “Ari, I hope you understand.”

  “I understand.” His voice was devoid of emotion.

  I forced a half-smile that said thanks. Inside, my heart was bleeding tears. After tonight, I would never see my gorgeous stranger on a train—or his son Ben—again.

  I might have burst into real tears once more had not a doctor walked up to us. I jumped up from my chair, my heart hammering.

  The doctor lifted his horn-rim glasses on top of his balding head and wiped sweat from his brow. Oh, God. Wasn’t this what they did on TV shows when the doctor was going to break the bad news that the patient had died?

  “Ms. Greene… Mr. Golden…”

  My heart beat so hard against my chest I thought it would leap out. Ari squeezed my ice-cold hand, a kind gesture I didn’t deserve.

  “I have good news for you. Ms. Hoffmeier will be fine. Fortunately, she did not ingest enough aspirin to cause any permanent liver or kidney damage. We’re going to keep her here a couple of days for observation.”

  I breathed a loud sigh of relief. Thank goodness!

  “Can I see her?” I asked.

  “Yes. She’s awake now and asked to see you.”

  I turned to Ari. He jerked his chin, signaling me to follow the doctor. “I’ll wait for you here.” His frosty voice sent a chill down my spine.

  Lauren’s room was a far cry from my mother’s sterile, shoebox-size hospital room. It was a suite with bleached hardwood floors, sleek white leather furnishings, and pale gray silk drapes. A floor-to-ceiling window overlooked the sparkling city. Lauren, in a hospital bed, was propped up on plump pillows and covered with a luxurious white duvet. An IV was attached to her arm. She looked pale and tired. I planted a kiss on her forehead and plunked down in the armchair next to her bed.

  “Hi,” she said weakly.

  “Hi.” This was awkward.

  “Thanks for being there for me. The doctor said I’m going to be okay.”

  “I’m glad. But you’ve got to get some help when you get out of here. Promise?”

  “Promise.” She asked me to pass her the water that was on her nightstand. She took a sip through the straw. “How did I get here?”

  “Ari drove you here. You don’t have to worry about your parents finding out. He’s got it all covered.”

  A faint smile crossed her lips. “He’s a great guy. Have you slept with him yet?”

  Only Lauren would have sex on her brain right after a suicide attempt. I nodded, my heart aching inside. In reality, we had never actually slept together nor would we ever.

  My BFF’s face brightened. “Sarah, don’t let him go.”

  Her words made my stomach churn. “Well, you’d better get some rest. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.”

  Lauren closed her eyes, and I tiptoed out of the room. Oh, how love could hurt!

  In the waiting room, Ari was on his cell phone. When he heard my footsteps, he ended the call and gazed up at me. Concern was written all over his face.

  “How is she?”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  An awful, anxious feeling consumed me. Longing. I desperately wanted to be in his arms. Feel the warmth of his breath… his heartbeat against mine… the heat of his member. “Well, I’d better be going. I’ll take a cab.” I could use his hundred dollar bill. No need for that anymore.

  “No. I’ll take you home.” It was a gruff order.

  “Actually, I’m staying over my boyfriend’s apartment.” I don’t know what made me go back to the masquerade. In fact, take it up a notch. My heart quivered.

  Ari pressed his lip together. “Fine.” He stabbed the word at me. “Just tell me where it is; I’ll drop you off.”

  When we got into the Bentley, I gave him the swank address of Lauren’s parents’ apartment. 50 Sutton Place South.

  “So, your boyfriend must do well.”

  “He does a lot of things well.” When I saw the hurt look on Ari’s face, I immediately regretted my words. His long fingers tensed on the steering wheel as he stepped on the gas and peeled off the curb. Wishing I could take back what I said, we drove the short distance in silence. Not once did he turn his head to look at me. When we pulled up to the elegant apartment building, the white-gloved doorman ran up to the car and opened the passenger door for me.

  There was no teary good-bye. Ari was gone before I could say good night and thank him for his kindness. I watched his Bentley fade into the distance with my eyes watering. When I was sure he was not coming back, I walked home, leaving a trail of tears behind me.

  2

  ONCE AGAIN, SLEEP ELUDED ME. I spent most of the night, gazing up at the ceiling, and thinking about my decision to stop seeing Ari. My pack of lies haunted me. I had hurt him. Hurt him terribly. I hated myself for what I had done almost as much as I hated Catherine. Finally, when I dozed off, Jo-Jo woke me up, nuzzling his head against my chest and meowing loudly. I dragged myself out of bed and knew I had to pull myself together. Today was Catherine’s big boys’ toyline presentation to Ike and the design team, and I was going to have to be the one to pull it together and make her look good. What I really wanted to do was sic a pack of rabid dogs on her.

  After a feeding Jo-Jo and downing a cup of coffee, I debated whether to go for a jog. I was tired but stressed. And depressed. In the end, I decided to go for a quick run in the park, in lieu of my neighborhood, hoping that it would lift my spirits.

  The decision was a good one. The air was cool and invigorating, and the early morning light that beamed through the trees along the lower loop was almost magical. All I thought about was running and making it through the countless hills and vales of this verdant path. The circle was a little less than two miles. I got off at Sixth Avenue and Central Park South. Watching out for bikers, I bent over and stretched my calves.

  “Well, Sarah, fancy seeing you here.” I straightened up immediately, my eyes traversing a pair of very long, lean, muscular legs. My eyes met hers. Standing before me was Gwen, dressed for a jog in black runner shorts and a sweatshirt that said Wellesley. Her flaming red hair was gathered in a ponytail.

  “So, have you thought about my offer?” she asked coyly.

  “I’m not seeing your brother anymore.” My voice was stiff.

  She flashed a smug smile. “I knew you’d come around. I’ll draw up a settlement offer later today and send it your way. Does two million dollars sound fair and reasonable?”

  Two million dollars? I gulped. Two million pennies would have sounded like a boatload of money. Gosh! There was so much I could do with so much money. Get my own apartment! Quit my job! Buy a car and pay off my bills! And best of all, pay for my mother’s cancer treatments in style!

  The temptation was great. So many of my problems would be solved. Yet, there was something so very wrong about accepting the money. This was not how my mother raised me. She raised me to be a kind person, with a good heart and strong moral compass. I was taught to work hard for the things I wanted in life. “Remember the three’s P’s,” my mother always said. “Be Persistent. Patient. Passionate.” In my heart, I knew my mother would rather die than have me accept a bribe.

  And there was the one thing all that money in the world could not buy me. The man I loved. Ari.

  I looked straight into Gwen’s eyes. Without a blink, I hissed, “Keep your money. I don’t want it.” She gaped. I ran off without looking back.

  By the time I got back to my apartment, the temperature had risen. I was hot and sweaty. After a quick, cold shower, I hastily donned my work uniform—a mid-calf peasant skirt, a t-shirt, and my combat boots, and then at last minute, changed into one of Ari’s floral sundresses. I still wanted to be attached to him in any way I could. I grabbed my messenger bag and my skateboard and flew out the door. I had no regrets about any of the decision
s I had made this morning. Even the one to leave my apartment pantyless.

  There were no flowers waiting for me when I got to my desk. And I had a feeling there would be no phone calls from him today either. Guilt mingled with sadness. I had hurt him last night. Scarred by love before, he was not looking for another train wreck. My Trainman was out of my life. Gone. It was the price I had to pay.

  I turned on my computer and checked my emails. The usual, absurd “To Do” list from Catherine née Cassandra, popped up on my screen. I hated this snake-tongued woman with a passion. She had ruined Ari’s life. And now she had ruined mine. I told myself that I would talk to Human Resources later today and see if I could transfer to another department. There was no way I could continue to work for the bitch and respect myself. The chances of getting a different position were slim, but I had to give it a try. Sadly, the chances of winning back Ari were none. A horrible wave of depression swept over me.

  With Catherine still not in the office, I had the opportunity to make a couple of personal phone calls. First, I called my mother, who was looking forward to seeing me tomorrow. The sound of her voice, which was growing stronger every day, temporarily cheered me up. I so wanted to tell her about everything that was going on in my life, but the last thing I wanted to do was worry her.

  Next, I called Lauren. She sounded much better, in fact, chipper. Whatever “happy pill” they were giving her, I wanted too. Chatting non-stop, she told me how the delicious the food was, just like a five-star hotel, and informed me that she had flushed Taylor’s engagement ring down the toilet. So like her to do that—my drama queen friend. The most exciting news was that her hospital suite was the one Beyoncé had stayed in when she gave birth to her baby. “Can you believe I’m sleeping in the same bed as Beyoncé?” she squeed. Lauren was definitely on the road to recovery.

  Just as I hung up the phone, Catherine came flying in like a storm. “Ike just called me and moved up the concept meeting to nine o’clock. Let’s go.”

  Grabbing the file, I followed her as she raced down the hall to the boardroom. Ike and the design team, including Fernando, were already there.