Chapter 41
Sarah
I sit in my car for a moment as I try to will my heart rate to drop back down, it’s beating so hard in my chest that I feel like I’m about to have a heart attack.
I dropped the kids at school and grabbed a coffee on the way, all the while about to go into cardiac arrest.
It’s fine, he doesn’t know anything, and knowledge is power. While he doesn’t know anything we are safe.
He will, though…
One day soon I’m going to have to tell him, in fact I think I already kind of admitted it. I close my eyes, overwhelmed with fear. I know how postal he is going to be and…damn it. I can’t believe I’m living this lie; this was never who I was.
Maybe it’s better if he does find out….maybe then I can finally forgive myself for it and move on.
With one last look in my rearview mirror, I drag myself into work.
“Good morning, Ruth,” I say as I walk through the front doors.
“Good morning, Sarah.” She looks up at me over the top of her glasses. “Everything all right? You look
frazzled.”
“I’m great,” I lie with a smile as I walk through the office. “Everything is just great.”
I’m a disaster, Ruth, and my children are the spawn of the devil… literally.
Why wouldn’t I have just politely declined? What on earth was I thinking that I was going to achieve by screaming down the phone? All I’ve done is made him angry, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that Gabriel Ferrara when angry is a catastrophic force.
Dumb, dumb, dumb.
I get a vision of Gabriel sitting at his desk in New York and I can feel his rage from here. Complete with the red sky, the lightning, the earth splitting in two and swallowing me whole in true horror movie
fashion.
I inwardly kick myself. Shit.
Why did I curse and carry on like an immature child on the phone?
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Damn it, I need to be smarter about this.
Something about that man brings out the absolute worst in me.
Ugh… So stupid.
I storm into my office and dump my briefcase on my desk. Now, to top off my morning from hell, I have to organize home loans all day.
Ugh, I hate my job.
I work at a bank as a loan manager, it’s a good position, great pay with hours that I can work around the kids. I should be grateful for the opportunity, and I am…it’s just… Mindless, boring, and crappy working out how much debt people can go into all day long.
As much as I hate to admit it, I miss the exotic days in New York of wearing six–inch heels and tight pencil skirts to work and staying back and having drinks with my work friends in cool bars. I get a vision of back then and Gabriel in his black briefs making me coffee every morning while I went through his day.
Stop it.
“Good morning,” Mervin calls as he walks past my office.
“Morning, Merv,” I reply as I open up my computer.
He sticks his head back around my door. “Do you want to buy some brownie cookies?”
Ugh…
“I guess.” I grab my purse. “How many fundraisers do you do exactly? I swear I need to loan myself.some cash just to support your kids‘ sporting activities.”
“I know, right, I’m sick of selling this shit too.” He walks into my office and puts the box of cookies on my
desk.
I pass him over ten dollars. “You know I buy these things from you with the full intent of taking them home and sharing them and then, next thing you know, I’ve eaten the lot of them.”
“Same.” He takes the money and looks through his wallet for change.
I scrunch my nose as a waft of something bad surrounds me, and I look around. “What is that god–awful smell?” “I don’t know?” He looks around.
“Oh…it’s disgusting.” I wince.
“The hell is it?” He shrugs and looks on the bottom of his shoe. “Hopefully my office doesn’t smell.” He
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disappears down the hall.
“Ruth,” I call. “Do you know what that smell is?”
“Not really,” she calls, disinterested. “I smelled it before when I walked in the door, though.” Fuck’s sake.
“Oh yuck, it’s putrid in my office, I think there must be a dead rat in the ceiling or something,” Merv calls
down the hall.
“Eww.”
This day just keeps getting better.
4 p.m.
An email pops up on my screen,
Your next appointment is here.
Mr. Don Johnston.
Don Johnston, what kind of name is that? I glance at my watch, I hate having appointments with new
clients this late in the day. I reply to Ruth.
Send him in please.
I close down my email and take a sip of my water and stand and open the door.
Gabriel Ferrara is striding down the corridor toward me, and my eyes widen in horror.
“Hello, Miss Adams.” He sneers as he walks past me into my office.
Shit.
Fake appointment.
Diabolical.
I glance around my office for an escape route before closing the door.
He’s towering above me, wearing a perfectly fitted suit; his black hair has a bit of a curl to it and his animosity is encapsulating the room, making everything else feel so small and insignificant.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He sits down at my desk. “You told me to make an appointment.” He points to my chair. “Sit.”
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I drop into my chair, my nervous heart hammering. “What do you want?”
He sits back and crosses his legs, arrogance personified, and his dark eyes hold mine. “I would like to
know a little bit about you.”
I shrug as I act casual. “There’s nothing to know.”
“Cut the bullshit, Sarah,” he fires back. “Do you have something to tell me?”
I swallow the bucket of sand in my throat as my eyes hold his. I imagine him flipping the desk and smashing the windows or something equally dramatic.
“Like what?”
“Do. Not. Play. With. Me.” He bangs his hand on my desk and I jump. I swallow the nervous lump in my
throat. “Are they or are they not my children?” His silhouette blurs.
His jaw tics in anger. “Answer. The. Fucking. Question.”
I nod. “Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“You…” I try to say the words out loud, but my dry mouth betrays me, I can’t even form a sentence.
“You what?” he spits angrily.
“Yes. You are their biological father,” I say quietly.
