11. Rose
11
ROSE
My phone buzzes on the table as I bite on the sandwich I have for lunch.
Zander: Did I tell you about Pippi?
Me: What’s a Pippi?
Zander: Pippi is the one keeping me awake at night.
I look at my phone. The crazy thing about texts is that you don’t know if they’re meant as a joke or said in earnest.
Is Pippi a lady friend or… something else. And how do I feel about the former? Thankfully, Zander clarifies before my brain goes into overdrive.
Zander: Pippi is my neighbor’s obnoxious new parrot, who is still on a different time zone. That stupid bird starts squawking before sunrise and goes on and on…
Reading his words, my lips twist in a smile.
Me: LOL I can’t believe it’s so bad.
Zander: Don’t make fun of me. I’m operating on very little sleep.
Me: How much coffee have you had already?
Zander: Don’t you even start on the coffee.
Me: You are grumpy!
Zander: Pippi is to blame .
A few days later, while I’m sitting in the passenger seat as Kristy drives us to work, my phone vibrates along with a tweet sound, which I’ve assigned to Zander.
Zander: Pippi is gone.
I giggle, and Kristy arches an eyebrow at me.
Me: I hope you had nothing to do with it.
Zander: Not at all. I think Pippi’s owner was equally pissed by him.
Me: I’m glad to hear your nights will no longer be painful.
Zander: Amen to that!
Zander: Did you have a pet while growing up?
My smile drops as I read his text. I chew on my lips, debating how to respond. He doesn’t know the kind of childhood I had.
Me: I grew up in an orphanage. We weren’t really allowed to have pets.
I type but then hesitate. Should I hit send, or reply with a simple no? That would be much easier and possibly less awkward. But then Kristy makes a sharp turn, and my wavering thumb presses on the send button.
Taking me by surprise, his reply is immediate.
Zander: I don’t know if you’re aware, but I was in foster care for some time before moving in with Ashcroft. Was your home good?
I read his message a few more times, not sure if he’s deliberately trying to make light of my unconventional childhood or if it really doesn’t matter to him.
Me: It was good for the most part.
Zander: Hmm. That’s good.
I try to pull the topic of our discussion away from sappy childhood memories.
Me: But if I had a pet, I’d have killed it in a week. Or maybe myself in the stress of keeping it alive .
Zander: LOL You need a low maintenance pet, couch girl.
Two days later, I receive a delivery from the local pet store. In a state of daze, I bring in the glass bowl where a goldfish is swimming, perfectly unaware that it has just been assigned to the most paranoid person.
Me: You sent me a fish!
Zander: They delivered already? Great.
Me: Zander, I can’t take care of a fish! I’ve never had a fish.
Zander: Calm down, couch girl. Did they give you something else?
Me: Yes, the delivery guy gave me a package.
Zander: Open it. I asked them to prepare a starter’s guide for you. Don’t worry, this is the easiest pet to have.
I look at… my first pet , a pretty golden fish, laid back with not a care in the world.
My hands frantically open the cardboard box, and I find some food and a binder. I flip through it, and the top of the first page reads First Five Days with Your New Friend .
My gaze falls back on the fellow floating in the water. I guess I can give it a try, if this little guy is up for it.
Me: What should I name him?
Zander: What are you thinking?
Me: LOGAN.
Zander: I didn’t expect anything less from you, Wolverine junkie. ;) Enjoy your new friend.
With a new-filled excitement, I bring the fishbowl to my room and place it on the nightstand.
“Please don’t die on me, Logan,” I murmur.
“Why am I in this meeting?” I ask Kristy as we walk toward the teleconference room.
“I really don’t know. Maybe because it’s your idea,” she mumbles, biting her phone between her teeth as she fixes her hair.
“But I’ve initiated several projects in the past and…I’ve never had to sit in a sales and marketing meeting.” My eyebrows furrow in confusion, wondering what am I doing in a S&M department meeting.
“I don’t know what to say, Rose.” She stands before me with a perfect top bun. “The invitation came from St. Peppers. Maybe Zander asked for you.”
“Zander? Is he going to be in this meeting?” I stop just outside the door.
We’ve talked so much over the past few weeks but only in texts, and that’s… simpler, easier. In those texts, he doesn’t feel like my boss, but rather a friend I’m slowly developing a crush on.
“Yes. Is that a problem?” Kristy takes a few steps back to me.
I shake my head. Suddenly, my feet feel as if they have heavy weight tied to them—possibly the weight of the storm rolling in my stomach as I enter the room.
We are thankfully some of the first people here, and I quickly grab the empty chair at the far end, beyond the scope of the camera. Kristy raises an eyebrow at me but thankfully doesn’t say anything.
The meeting starts and six people appear on the projector screen. Sitting in the middle is Zander, and on his one side is Zach Teager. I guess the rest are the team members of S&M.
Zach is about to say something when Zander asks, “Is Ms. Marlin not in the meeting?”
Oscar glances my way. My panic-laden eyes meet his for a second before I look down at my laptop. “She is here and listening,” he confirms.
Zander doesn’t look pleased with the answer, but he doesn’t argue further. Throughout the meeting, his gaze wanders.
Is he searching for me?
Zander: Why couldn’t I see you in today’s meeting?
Me: I don’t know. Why was I even there? Was it a mistake?
Zander: No. You were there because I wanted to see you.
My breath hitches at his unexpected and direct response.
Me: Oh. But wouldn’t it have been easier to video call me instead of asking me to attend a video conference?
My phone rings. Holy moly, he’s fast.
But I’m in no state for a video call. I’m sitting in my pajamas and pigtails, ready to get into bed. I end the call.
Zander: What?
Me: We can talk some other time. I’m not ready at the moment.
Zander: Not ready for what? A call? Just pick up, Marr.
I ignore his call again. But when my phone rings for the third time, I know there’s no way I can ignore him tonight.
“Hello,” I mutter, embarrassed at being caught in such a state.
“Hello.” He smiles, and my eyes widen at the sight of Zander, who’s sitting on what looks like a balcony.
Does he know how impossibly handsome he looks under the yellow LED light?
The top button of his shirt is undone, and his tie sits loose around his neck.
“How…are you?” My voice shivers.
“Good. I just wanted to see you,” he says, giving me that killer smile and dimpled cheek.
“I look crazy.” I peer away from his piercing gaze.
How did I land here? Looking like a dork in pigtails ready for a hair wash tomorrow with an oily night cream on my face, while he’s all set for a photoshoot.
“You look cute. Pigtails suit you.” Zander smirks.
My heartbeat accelerates at his comment. “Don’t make fun of me.” I tug on my braided hair. “I wasn’t expecting a late-night video call from my boss.”
“I’m your friend. Oscar is your boss,” he states with a shrug. As if there is any truth in that technicality. Zander changes the subject. “How’s Logan?”
I turn my camera to the fishbowl beside my bed and bring it closer to my new roomie. “Alive, so far. I just wish he had some lips.” I glance at Logan’s expressionless face. “This way I could know if he’s happy and smiling. Right now, I have no clue.”
Zander bursts into laughter. “You’re funny.”
My heart feels lighter knowing I said something to get that laugh out of him.
“Lips or no lips, he looks happy, couch girl.”
“Why are we here?” Kristy asks, and by here, she means sitting on our living room’s vintage rug with pizza from Giovanni’s and iced tea.
“I need to ask you something,” I reply as she takes a bite of her pizza slice.
“About Zander?” She’s wearing a gray T-shirt with a cute coffee mug and I love coffee written in perky letters.
I nod, sipping the cold iced tea, hoping it’ll cool down some of the anxiety rolling in my stomach.
“He wants Logan back?” Her eyes bug out at me, and a giggle slips from my mouth in the middle of my nervousness.
“No, Logan is safe here. It’s…” My words falter as my grip ar ound the glass tightens before I place it on the floor. “I’m…”
“What’s the matter?” She places her hand on my knee and squeezes.
“I’m confused.” My hands pull on the cuffs of my flannel nightshirt. “You know Zander and I, we’ve been texting for a while.”
She nods. “Yeah, Rose. I know he likes you.”
“You…think so?” My heart stumbles over its next few beats.
“The way he’s organizing unnecessary video calls, sending all those fish—”
“It’s just one fish,” I correct.
“You know what I mean. But what’s the problem?” She gives me a pointed look.
“Of late, the language of his texts is… different.”
“You guys are sexting?” she yells so loud, I jump in my seat, my back hitting the couch.
“No! God, no. Most likely…it’s nothing and I’m just imagining things.” That’s my biggest fear and also the reason why I need Kristy’s advice.
“Tell me what he said, and I’ll decide if it’s nothing or not.”
With great trepidation and my heart hammering against my rib cage, I tell her how, two days back, Zander put me in a mushy daze while he commented on my sleeping habit.
“ If you were my girlfriend, Marr, you’d have to be in bed at nine to continue your routine of sleeping at twelve. I’d need three hours to have my way with you.”
And when I asked him nervously what he meant by having his way, he simply replied, “ I’ll talk to you for at least three hours about our day before I let you sleep. You are a very easy person to talk to.”
I know guys flirt often, though not many have flirted with me. But with Zander, I don’t know. Is this even flirting?
I have no clue whether the ginormous texting spree that has been going on without a break for over a month now has changed my relationship with the man who became my friend over an empty cup of coffee or if it’s just my confused, hallucinating brain.
“I’m stumped,” I tell Kristy, who’s hanging on my every word.
“I can’t say I’m surprised. Mighty Zander Teager, enamored of our Rose.” Her gaze doesn’t leave me as she leans back, taking support of the love seat.
Her words make my heart race, which is its usual state these days.
“You think…so?” I wish so badly for Kristy’s words to be true.
The feverish feeling I have around Zander is like his personal electricity directed toward me. I feel it every time there’s even a reference to him. It’s only recently that I’ve realized this feverish feeling isn’t bad. It makes me warm like hot cocoa in winter.
“He’s totally into you. Did you not see how upset he was when our camera didn’t work on the last conference call?”
I chuckle while remembering the day. He was so restless throughout the whole meeting.
“When he met us in the café that morning, I wasn’t sure if his attraction was because of your genius freaky mind or your sweet shyness.” She taps the tip of my nose with her finger.
“Only you can call me a freak and sweet in the same sentence.” I pout, and it’s her turn to giggle. I remove the empty pizza box and lie back on the rug next to her, my gaze following the concentric circular design on the ceiling of our living room.
“Do you really think it’s possible, me and Zander? As much as I want it to be true, I’m scared. He doesn’t know…” I can’t finish the sentence, the familiar cold engulfing me .
“No, Rosie. Don’t go there. Zander is lucky to have grabbed your attention.” My best friend grasps my hands tightly, willing me to believe in her words.
I know she’s right. I should be happy for these unfamiliar sensations and feelings. For so long, I thought my life would be just me, my work, my comic books… basically only me . But now Zander is knocking on the closed doors of my heart, urging me to open them. The question is: am I prepared to find out what’s inside and ready to take a chance?
Can I risk the stability I finally have in my life?
“What are you thinking?” Kristy turns to her side, facing me.
“This looks like a gamble.”
“Love always is.”
Oh my. Are we really talking about the big L-word?
Before I can mull or hyperventilate more, Kristy distracts me.
“You really like him, don’t you?”
I’m sure she has no problem reading the fear on my face, but she presses my hand lightly and smiles.
After several minutes of silence, she playfully nudges my shoulder. “Maybe next time when he’s flirting with you, you simply play along before he makes a U-turn.”
“I don’t think I can do that.” I nervously rub my forehead.
She pulls my hand away. “You don’t have to go all gaga over him. Just play up some of your cute charm.”
I don’t dismiss her idea this time. Not because I’m going to act on it immediately, but because it’s tough to argue with Kristy. Instead, I ask, “What do you think happens next?”
“You guys will probably move beyond the virtual world and go on… real dates.”
Dates? Sweet sugar! Am I up for it?