A Soul Mate's Promise (7 page)

“What are these papers? Have you any idea what you’ve done? What the hell are you thinking?” I can hear the venom dripping off each word but I’m not going to flinch again. “Why is your attorney digging in my business? Just what do you think is there?”

I start to shake just a little and remember that this is why I want out of this marriage. I straighten my shoulders and raise my chin. “This is what the attorney advised me to do under our circumstance—”

Richard continues his rant until I begin to feel like a helium balloon with a hole in it..

“Look Richard, this is what I was advised to do and I listen to my lawyer.”

“Oh?” he snarls at me, “you listen to your lawyer? That’s because you have
no
idea how business works! You’ve probably screwed up everything now because you
never
wanted to learn anything! Seriously Grace, you
never
think!

“Richard! Stop! Just
stop
the dramatics. What do you have to hide?” I ask, something telling me that’s what’s really going on. “I can’t talk to you anymore unless you’re going to calm down. You’re always so angry! You’ve been an angry person ever since you took over that business.”

Richard’s tirade only increased in volume and viciousness. I feel hot tears fill my eyes and my heart is pounding in my ears. Then the heavy feeling in my chest creeps in, I gasp for air and realize I shouldn’t have called him back at all. I hit End Call.

I wipe the tears off my face, suck in as much air as I can and turn around. Sal is standing just outside the bathroom doorway, his face oddly blank.

“Gracie, are you okay? Jesus, Was that Richard yelling at you? I heard him all the way over here!”

I can only nod, and then the floodgate of tears cascades down my face and I feel like a real fool. I start across the room to go in the bathroom but Sal stops me by putting his hands on each of my wrists.

“Hey… , Gracie, calm down. Shhh… He pulls me gently against his chest. “You’re shaking! Can you tell me what the hell that was all about?”

I pull away and he lets me go, but I can feel him watching me. I go to my sink and splash water on my face, then grab a towel that only serves to catch more tears. I’ve lost it and I’m not sure I’ll ever get the tears to stop. When I manage to look up, Sal is just standing there looking torn between love and murder. I almost laugh except I might just laugh myself into an asylum, so I don’t let it out.

“Princess,” he says softly, “we’re friends, right? Please tell me what’s going on. Might help to talk it out.”

I take a shuddery breath and fill him in on the call, Richard’s tirade and how stupid I feel for calling him back. I reach to the counter for my prescription bottles.

“What’s that for?” he asks. I hold out the one bottle and show him it’s my prescription for Xanax.

“This helps calm down the panic attacks.” I reach for another bottle. “This one is a mild sleeping pill to help me sleep at night. I take them as needed.”

Sal takes the little yellow bottles in his big palm and looks at them. When he glances at me, his eyebrows are bunched together and he’s sporting a serious frown on his lips.

“Gracie,” he starts softly, “when did you start taking these?”

I shrug my shoulders “Right before Rich and I decided to separate. It’s unbelievable what your nerves can do to you.”

“No,” Sal says, shaking his head, “it’s unbelievable that Richard is such a selfish bastard. You gave him your heart and then he neglected it. He broke your spirit instead of building you up. He’s a taker–he took it all from you and never gave anything back, and now you’re disconnected. That’s why you’re getting panic attacks.” He let out a slow sigh. “Princess, you are not crazy. You are not stupid. You’re hurt, but this stuff isn’t going to help.”

Hearing Sal’s words, I can’t stop the new tears and I clutch the soggy towel to my sore eyes. He might think I’m not crazy, but I’m not so sure anymore. Why couldn’t I see what he just pointed out?

“Shhh…Gracie, don’t cry. Don’t you see? Your heart and soul is so open because you’re a very loving and generous person. I figured that out in just a few conversations with you. Look at the way you are with Pop–you have a good heart. It’s just been crushed.” He puts down the prescription bottles, then takes the towel out of my hands and gently wipes my cheeks. After he tosses the towel in the sink basin, he takes my face in his hands.

“Look at me.”

I gaze into his warm brown eyes. In a low, calm voice, he says, “Good. Now breathe nice and slow. Good. Deep breaths. Come on, do it with me, Gracie. Breathe. Keep your eyes on me–I’m here. That’s it. Keep going. One more deep breath. Good. Better?”

I keep my eyes on his and my body relaxes and my breathing straightens out. Maybe I
can
beat this awful stuff.

“Yes,” I whisper, “better, thank you. How did you know to do that?”

He shrugs and shakes his head, then wraps me in his arms.

“You don’t need those meds to calm you. You just need your heart and soul to be whole again. Can you promise me something?” He lifts my chin to tilt my face up to his and nods toward the prescription bottles.

“Promise me that you won’t use these medications. I will help you. You need rebuilding not masking, and you have to promise me that you won’t talk to Richard again – at least not without your lawyer there. Listen to your lawyer. Capisce principessa? He says with a cute smirk.

I nod, beginning to feel human again I almost smile. “Capisce!”

“Good!” he says, then gives me a chaste kiss, scoops me up in his arms and puts me down on the bed. I’m giggling when he grabs my hand and looks closely at me. “Feeling better?”

I’m tired from the emotion, the tears, the anger, but I do feel better. “Yes I am, thank you, Sal. That was really sweet what you did. If only Richard knew to do things like that, maybe our marriage would have turned out different. He hardly ever touched me.”

Sal looks down at the floor and his lips form a thin line—then he lets out a big breath and lets go of my hands.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but, his loss is my gain!” Looking at me out the corner of his eye, he flashes me a sexy smile and wiggles his eyebrows up and down.

I can’t keep a straight face and burst into a loud, gaspy fit of laughter.

“Ah there it is,” he says. “There’s that contagious laugh of yours! Listen, why don’t you just relax for a while. I gotta go into town with Pop but why don’t I take you out later, get some dinner? Or a movie? What ever you want. I’d like to take you on a proper date, how’s that sound?”

“That sounds great!” I say, thinking this day has been quite a roller coaster.

“I’ll see you around 6 then?”

I nod. “Sounds great,” I say, wondering if I’m crazy to let this thing between us grow.

He bends down a little and gives me a good solid kiss before he heads down the stairs.

“Thanks again for working on the lights and.. and, everything!”

“My pleasure Gracie I’ll see you later.”

*       *       *

I go down to check on Toby who came in the house when Sal left. After a thorough petting and some Toby kisses, I ran back upstairs to call Celine. She answered quickly.

“Hello, Darlin! What shakin?” she drawls. I smile.

Like a teenager, I’m ready to rattle off my past two days. I fight the urge and take a breath and collapse on my bed.

“Are you sitting down?” I begin. “Oh my god have I got news for you!” I tell Celine all about the drive into town, and lunch, then the kiss, and the dream, and everything else!

“He’s taking me out tonight–dinner and stuff. I’m a little nervous, but in a good way. I swear it’s like we’ve known each other all along, he’s so familiar.”

Celine is quiet for just about a second. “I KNEW IT!” she yells. I knew you were gonna turn his head. Now listen to me baby, don’t go thinkin’ too much, just try to have fun and let him put some spark back those eyes of yours. Remember, he’s got baggage, too. Did he ever tell you about any of it?”

“No,” I answer, “but, I thought I’d bring that up at dinner before I go jumping into a romance.”

Celine makes a tsk sound with her tongue. “What did I tell you? Just have fun–no strings!”

“Celine, I told you, I can’t do that. That’s just not me. I’m just not that kind of person.”

Celine exhales loudly. “I know, baby, I just thought it would help. You’re such a giving person and you got a heart of gold–I just want you to have fun. But do what you gotta do.”

“I know you mean well Celine, but I’m to the point that I might not want to let anyone in. I could never go through the pain of this kind of rejection again.”

“Well Darlin’, have fun on your date tonight. Who knows? Maybe Sal’s the one! Talk to you later and see you Friday morning at ten for the meeting.”

“Oh yes, the meeting. Celine, I’ll call you soon!”

Before I can say goodbye, Celine chimes in and says, “Soon? You better call me tomorrow and tell me every dirty detail of this date!”

I laugh and it feels damned good. “No problem, but I don’t think there will be much to report..”

C H A P T E R 7

Toby and I hopped in the Jeep and headed for town to fuel up with groceries and gasoline.

While driving through town I spotted Antonio’s van in the lot at the medical building, and I figured Sal was there for his orthopedic doctor’s appointment. Though tempted to wait for them, I also feared that Toby would polish off the groceries, so I headed for home.

Toby was sprawled on the kitchen floor as I put away groceries. Twice I stopped in my tracks realizing that I was humming and grinning like a little kid. I have a date! My insides felt like a family of butterflies had moved in.

*       *       *

I get out of the shower and wrap a towel around me. I pad into the closet and sigh at my limited selection of stunning outfits.

Finally, I figure a pair of really nice dark jeans and a loose blouse that ties at the shoulders should work fine. I decide to finish off my look with a pair of four-inch platform sandals. I leave everything on the hanger and check the time. The clock reads, 4:00 PM. I have two hours till date time. I’m having more fun today than I’ve had in years. Hell, maybe in forever.

I have no idea why, but it took me a full two hours to get ready. I had a glass of wine in between applying makeup and putting on my jeans, just to calm the jitters.

With Toby fed and filled in on my plans for the evening, I let him out for a few minutes. That’s when I hear the beast come to life! My heart’s pounding with excitement and I see Sal leave the garage to make his way around to my house. I call for Toby to come inside, then wait for the doorbell.

I answer the door. There’s Sal freshly showered and smelling of cologne. He too has on a nice pair of dark blue jeans with a white tailored shirt and a black vest. His hair is brushed back off his face,  hanging in loose curls to his collar. I just stare in awe, hoping I’m not drooling, but even if I am, I can’t do anything about it. His laughter breaks the spell. 

“Hello, Gracie, you ready to go?” he asks. Before I can answer, he grabs me around the waist and gives me another toe-curling kiss. When he lets me go, I can feel my face turning the color of a ripe watermelon.

“You look beautiful! I’ve been waiting all day for that kiss,” he says with his little half smile.

We drive the Beast along A1A and enjoy the beachside breeze. Sal pulls into Bistro Mediterranean, which sits right on the beach.

When Sal opens the door and ushers me inside, I catch my breath. It’s like something out of a fairy tale, with small, candle lit tables set with black tablecloths.

A pretty blonde woman at a hostess desk welcomes us with a warm smile.

“We have reservations,” Sal says, holding my hand at his side. He gives her his name and she consults the book on her desk.

“Right this way, Mr. Petroni.” Her accent isn’t Italian, but she certainly has one that rolls the “r” and makes it sound musical.  I giggle and Sal squeezes my hand.

“After you, Princess.” He lets my hand go and I feel a light touch at the small of my back as he guides me through the tables.

We follow the hostess to a quaint little table overlooking the ocean. The pinks and violets of the setting sun in the sky is very romantic.

“You really are beautiful tonight,” he whispers as he settles his cloth napkin in his lap.

I roll my eyes and turn bright red judging from the heat in my cheeks. “Sal, you’re embarrassing me!” I laughed waving my hand at him.

“Sorry,” he says with a big smile playing on his lips, “but you really have got to learn how to take compliments.”

Before I can take a sip of my water, the tuxedo-clad waiter comes up to the table and introduces himself as Gerard. In his French accent, he asks if we would care for cocktails or a bottle of wine.

Sal looks up at him and starts speaking French like a native. All I can do is listen and stare like a deer caught in headlights. I check to make sure my mouth isn’t hanging open.

Sal looks over to me. “Gracie, would you like red or white wine tonight?”

Wine?
All of that sexy talk is about wine? French is almost as sexy as Italian, I decide. “R-Red. I would like red.”

Sal continues in French. I can only make out
Boujoules
or
Bordeaux.

“Very well
monsieur
.” The waiter answers with a bow and leaves us.

“Okay,” I start with a wrinkle in my nose, “I know you speak Italian, but French too?”

Sal laughs. “I speak a bunch of different languages: Spanish, German, Russian, Farsi, French. Had to learn it for my work.”

The waiter comes back with our bottle of wine and makes Sal test it before pouring it for us. Sal approves and Gerard fills our glasses and puts the bottle on the table. He leaves us to look over the menu.

“So you had to learn to speak all those languages for work? What exactly was your job with the military?”

Sal takes a big gulp of his wine and sits back in his chair like someone has let the air out of him. “I was Special Ops. I can’t really tell you much, but I had to go to a lot of different countries and stay there for months. Sometimes a year.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You can’t tell me much? What the hell were you, like 007? James Bond stuff?” I joke.

There’s no smile on his face. “Close. I guess you could say that.”

The waiter returns to find me in stunned silence again and asks if we have questions about the menu.

“Oh?” I say, “I didn’t even look at it yet.”

Sal looks at Gerard and has yet another French conversation. Hearing several words that I can figure out, I gather Sal is ordering our dinner.

Gerard responds with, “Superb
monsieur
, I’ll bring you some bread.”

Sal picks up his wineglass and smiles, but I sense he’s uncertain. I smile back. I wonder if he’s not as confident about this date as he’d have me think.

“I hope you don’t mind but I ordered for both of us. I talked with Pop, he said you’re not very picky. I ordered a couple of appetizers to try and then a surf and turf entrée. Will that be okay?”

Now I grin at him. “Well, you did good with the entrées but what else did you order?”

“You’ll see,” he says with a wink. “I think you’ll be fine with it.”

I press on with the conversation about his job. I want to know where he has been, what he’s seen. I want to know everything about him.

“Sal, did you ever have to kill anyone?” I ask in a whisper, expecting him to laugh his head off.

“Yes, Gracie,” he answers in a very quiet voice. He holds my gaze with his, his promise to be honest with me ringing in my ears.

“I have killed.” He blows out a sigh, a look of sadness crosses his face and is gone so fast maybe I imagined it. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

I watch as the look on his face turns serious and dark. I get a little nervous because he looks like he disappeared for a moment.

“Hey,” I say, hoping to bring him back to me, “it’s okay. You don’t have to talk about any of it. I’m sorry, I’m just curious. I want to know all about the man who calls me beautiful and gives me passionate kisses when I least expect it.”

Sal smiles and raises his wineglass. “Here’s to us and our new start in life.”

We clink glasses and like the genie in the bottle, Gerard appears with our bread, followed by another server with two dishes. Gerard takes them from him and places them on our table. “Enjoy!” he says.

I look down at the plate and see escargot. Sal is looking at me with eyebrows raised, waiting for my reaction.

“I
love
escargot!” I nearly shout.

He draws in a breathy sigh of relief. “I thought you would, but I took a big guess. Pop was right – you do have a love for good food!”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” I say as I pick up my tiny fork and aim for the butter and garlic soaked snail. “My parents owned a small Italian restaurant in New York City when I was very young. I think when you’re raised around the cultures that a big city offers you, I guess you just get accustomed to a different variety of foods. I am
not
finicky when it comes to food. I have had some friends that just could not eat or even try new things, which is a little sad, I think.”

I’m relieved to see that Sal’s relaxing again now that we’ve gotten away from the topic of his work history. Odd that I can be so comfortable with a person who has killed people, and yet somehow, I understand him and I’m not afraid of him.

He asks me all about my life growing up, and what kind of student I was and how many boyfriends I had. I answered his questions until we finished our meal and all the wine.

“Don’t get dessert,” he says, “there is somewhere I want to go.”

“Okay!” I say sounding a little too giddy and definitely buzzed.

Sal pays the check and with his arm firmly around my waist to help steady tipsy me on my four inch heels, we leave the restaurant laughing like children. His laughter stirs something deep inside me that assures me I will always be all right with him. Before we step off the curb, someone calls my name. “Grace?”

Thanks to the wine and the company, I don’t freeze, but my stomach lurches just a little. Sal’s arm tightens as we turn toward the voice. I’m sobering up fast.

We stand staring at Richard and Camille.  I’m ready to run, Sal holds me tight against his side.

“What are you doing here?” Richard asks.

“Ummm, we had dinner?”
What else would we be doing at a restaurant?

“Hello.” he says to Sal, and sticks out his hand. “I’m Richard Boumont, Grace’s husband.”

I thought Camille was going to swallow her tongue.

“Really, Richard,” Camille chimes in, “you’re practically divorced. Hi, I’m Camille James, Richard’s fiancée. And
you
are?”

I quickly answer. “This is Salvatore Petroni.”

“Oh?” says Camille. “How long have you been dating? You two seem pretty close.”

“It’s still in the getting-to-know-you stage but—”

Sal cuts me off mid sentence. “Yes, we are close. I’m working on some of Gracie’s trust issues. You know the ones that come with betrayal and cruelty?”

Camille’s standing there with her mouth hanging open. Richard on the other hand, apparently hasn’t heard a word that Sal’s said.

Richard is still repeating Sal’s last name. “Petroni..Petroni. I know that name. You’re not Antonio’s son are you?”

“Yes, I am,” Sal answers.

“I thought you were like off in the military for life or something. Never met you before.”

Sal nods slightly. “I was a Marine, I served, I’m done. Now if you two will excuse us, we’re going to finish with our date. Good night.”

“Grace, call me tomorrow,” Richard calls to my back. “We have things to discuss.”

I stop and turn and Sal stands beside me. “No, we don’t Richard. I have nothing to talk to you about. Talk to my lawyer.”

Sal turns us and we walk in silence back to the car.

We get in the car and Sal motions to me with a lift of his cleft chin. “You all right?”

“I’m fine.” I say with a chuckle. “That was fun. I’m glad you were with me, it helped, but, I think it’s killing my buzz.”

“Well, I think I have just the fix!” he says. He drives up the road a few miles and pulls into Guido’s Gelato.

“Oooh,” I croon, “I love gelato!” “I thought you might.” He parks the car, helps me get out of the low seat and we walk inside to a flavor list that’s longer than the constitution.

“What would you like, Gracie?” Sal asks me.

“Okay,” I say. “You ready for this? I want a scoop of the cappuccino flavor and a scoop of strawberry cheesecake!” I look at him with my mouth in a yummy smile.

“Gracie, you have dimples! I never noticed them before.”

I put my hands on my cheeks and feel their heat. Sal grabs my hands and pulls them away from my face.

“Stop, they’re adorable,” he says. “Don’t be embarrassed. I never want you to be embarrassed with me. You have no reason to be.”

We get our treats and head outside. I’m two spoons into mine when I lean over to see what’s in his cup.

“What is yours?” I ask with a mouthful of my weird combination.

He smiles and says, “Amaretto.”

“Oh, I like that, too!” I tell him. “I like the liqueur, it was always a favorite of mine.” Sal laughs.

“Is there anything you don’t like, Gracie?”

“Ummm… not really?” I laugh with him.

“Ahh good, you’re laughing,” he says. “I like when you’re laughing”. He points to the beach. “Walk with me, Princess?”

“Oh..” I say, wrinkling my nose. “I don’t think I have the right shoes for walking on the sand.”