Chapter 11: Right Hand Woman

Sabrina’s POV

“How’s the new job?” Dylan asks from across the table.

The weather is so lovely today. The sun is shining and it’s not too cold, which makes it the perfect weather to get frozen yogurt with your bestie and sit in Central Park. This is something Dylan and I always do together on the weekend because it gives us the opportunity to catch up and discuss how our week went.

I scoop a big spoonful of chocolate yogurt into my mouth, “It’s amazing. My colleagues are great, and my boss is super kind.”

“He’s hot though, right?” Dylan winks at me.

I lean across the picnic bench to punch his shoulder. He continues to say that every time I mention Atlas because he wants to know how attractive he is, but I won’t give him the satisfaction by giving him an answer.

“You really have to stop with that,” I mutter, “Because no matter how many times you say it, I won’t tell you what he looks like.”

Dylan frowns, eating a mouthful of his yogurt, “You’re no fun.”

I laugh at him, “Pout all you want, it doesn’t work on me.”

Being in Central Park on a day like today is both relaxing and entertaining. Many people come to the park to socialize, workout, have birthday parties, go roller skating or just to enjoy the scenery with a loved one. There is so much going on that it makes for the perfect people watching time because if you’re lucky you might catch a couple having an argument or see someone pissing in the bushes even though everyone can see them.

There is so much to see and do here. It always puts a smile on my face.

“How’s your job?” I ask Dylan to change the subject.

Dylan groans, “God, don’t even get me started. There is this one lady in my department…”

My mind wanders elsewhere as Dylan talks my ear off. He works in retail and always has a story or two to tell me, but I zone out and people watch while he speaks. It’s always the same two stories about someone stealing or a bitchy co-worker.

There are always people jogging through the park, but the crowd running past catches my eye. The group of ten men stop on the pathway next to us to catch their breath and drink some water. In a swift moment, they’re all running away, except one person.

“Atlas?” I question out loud, although I thought I said it in my head.

Atlas swivels his head to look at me, shock spreads across his face, followed by a toothy grin. He’s wearing dark blue workout shorts and a black muscle tank that shows off every single tattoo on his arms. His hair is damp, small droplets of sweat fall into his eyes.

“Sabrina? How are you?” He asks, walking towards us.

I look over at Dylan who is starstruck, his jaw literally hanging open. I shoot him a look to tell him to pull himself together.

I stand from the bench to greet him, “I’m good. I see you’re out for a jog on this fine day.”

Atlas squints when he looks up to the sky, “It’s a beautiful day, with good company.”

“Who are you?” Dylan pipes up, looking between Atlas and me.

Atlas frowns for a moment, “I’m her boss. Who are you?”

“My roommate,” I chime in, wanting the conversation to end.

Seeing Atlas here is so unexpected in a large city like this. We could’ve run into each other at any point in time, but instead it had to be here when he looks like that and I’m with my nosey roommate.

The frown on Atlas’s face doesn’t leave and I wonder what he’s thinking about. Sometimes his expressions are so hard to read, and I never know if he’s happy or annoyed when his face stays blank like that.

"Look, I better go,” Atlas states, not taking his eyes off Dylan, “I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Wait!” Dylan calls out, “Join us for dinner tonight? We have wine and fun board games.”

Atlas looks at me and I can see his features soften, “Alright, text me your address.”

Without another word, Atlas runs off to catch up with his group. I release a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

I turn to Dylan, who’s eyes are twinkling as bright as the sun. I try to ignore the look he is giving me when I sit back down at the table.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” I mutter, eating a scoop of melted yogurt.

“That’s your boss!” He exclaims, “How dare you keep him a secret, Sab. He’s gorgeous.”

“I know that,” I sigh, “But, he’s exactly that, my boss. Nothing else.”

“Well, he’s coming over for dinner tonight, so I expect you to be in your skimpiest outfit,” He winks at me.

I shake my head, “Absolutely not.”

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Dylan tried his best to get me to wear a dress that falls just below my a** but I put my foot down because it’s freezing in the apartment. He pouted for twenty minutes, but in the end, he allowed me to wear my cutest jeans, a white crop top and a burnt orange cardigan.

I’ve been in the kitchen most of the afternoon cooking my infamous mac n cheese after I texted Atlas my address. I was nervous he would decline the offer, but he said he’ll arrive at seven with a bottle of wine. That man loves his wine.

Atlas arrives at seven on the dot, like he had promised. He greets me with a warm smile and a bottle of Moscato. Atlas and Dylan sit at the dining room table while I serve dinner. I can hear them talking in the other room and I’m praying that Dylan isn’t being inappropriate.

I balance the three dishes across both of my arms – the perks of working in hospitality – and take them out to the table. Atlas takes it upon himself to pour the glasses of wine and I can’t take my eyes off his casual outfit. I’ve never seen him wear a pair of jeans but I’m loving it.

We begin eating and the conversation is directed by Dylan towards Atlas. He asks about EarthX and what he hopes to accomplish. I have always wanted to know why Atlas started this company because he’s very passionate about what he does.

“Inventing new products has always been a passion of mine,” Atlas states, taking a sip of wine, “I grew up quite poor, so I wanted to be successful and help my family financially.”

“I know how that feels,” I mutter, “I grew up the same way. I had this one friend who was always there for me no matter what was happening in my life. We lost touch many years ago, but he was always my rock when I needed him the most and he was supportive of my family and I during tough times.”

“I’m sure he isn’t as great as me,” Dylan scoffs, acting offended by my comment.

I brush him off, “Stop being jealous. Besides, I haven’t spoken to him in years, so I hope he’s happy wherever he is.”

Atlas is looking at me carefully with his jaw clenched and his eyes searching my face, “I’m sure he is.”