Beautiful Rose (Elixir Billionaires #1)

38. Zander

38

ZANDER

“So, what do you think?” Zach cocks his head toward the paper he slid to me across the kitchen counter a few minutes ago. It’s the list of potential locations for our upcoming third office.

I give another glance to the ten-line document before opening the bag of chocolate chips and throwing two handfuls into the pancake batter.

After wolfing down two full bowls of risotto, Zach declared that this dinner in my apartment, which he and Zane, invited themselves to, is incomplete without my unbeatable chocolate chip pancakes.

Yeah, Zach will say anything for food. And also, he doesn’t care that I’m practically cooking a second meal this evening. I have full faith in his eating abilities and know he’ll ask me to pack him a to-go container for his breakfast tomorrow.

“What’s th-there to th-think about? It’s Cherr-rywood,” Zane says when I don’t reply immediately.

“I thought you’d already be packing your bags and calling real estate agents.” Zach steals some of the chocolate from the batter and then licks the mixing spoon before throwing it into the kitchen sink.

How he stays fit after eating sugar like a ten-year-old is still a mystery to me.

I place the skillet over the stove and turn on the heat. Then I throw a big dollop of butter onto the hot iron because my brother is not only a sugar addict but a grease fiend too.

I pour in the pancake batter, and Zach shoulder-bumps me.

“Why aren’t you excited?”

Fuck. They won’t drop it.

“Because moving to Cherrywood is a big deal. I need to talk to Rose.”

“Then t-talk, what’s-s the problem?”

“She might say no,” I grunt before spreading the batter into a round shape, or I try to do so. This conversation feels like a grand test to my otherwise therapeutic cooking abilities.

“Why would she say no to the chance of living with you? You guys are engaged.”

“Because we’ve been fucking engaged for six months, with no sign of a wedding date in the future.” I throw the burnt pancake into the trash before turning to Zach. The black silicone spatula in my hand shakes between us.

He takes a step back.

“She needs t-time, Zander.” Zane presses lightly on my shoulder, making me aware of my tensed muscles.

I switch off the flame and put a lid over the smoking pan before releasing a deep breath. I look away from the concerned gaze of my younger brothers.

“I thought six months would be enough time for her to fully believe in me and my love.”

My stomach tightens, hating the vulnerability I feel. After my horrific childhood, I pledged that I wouldn’t let myself feel vulnerable ever again. But since Rose came along, memories of my mother and all the nightmares my brothers and I suffered have been more and more recurring.

“You gotta ask her, Zander. How the heck will you know if she’s ready or not?” Zach turns on the stove, placing the spatula back in my hand. “Just propose to her again with some flowers and maybe another piece of jewelry. I’m sure she’s just waiting for you to ask again, bro.” He grabs my shoulders and tries to turn me toward the stove. “Now make me some pancakes.”

“How are you always hungry?” His actions distract me and pull my attention away from Rose.

“I work very hard.” That bastard doesn’t even smile as he blurts the stupid excuse.

Zane snickers. “Zach’s r-right, you sh-should talk to her.”

I nod, even though a nervous energy still courses through my body.

“Yeah, I’m driving to Cherrywood this weekend. I’ll ask her then.”

After my driver, Greg, parks the car, I saunter to the private elevator, which takes me to the top floor of my company building.

As I step out of the elevator, my executive assistant, Kelly, rushes to get up from her seat and wish me a good morning. I give her a smile and head into my office.

I power on my laptop and type in the name I’ve dreaded all my life but is slowly becoming the biggest comfort. The calendar app allows me to check if Rose is busy in a meeting. My staff, who use this app to book meetings, doesn’t know their CEO has found an alternate usage in stalking his fiancée.

There’s a knock on my door, and then Kelly pokes her head in. “May I come in, Mr. Teager? ”

“Yeah.” I minimize the window.

She places a cup of steaming coffee on my table. The warm liquid reminds me of my first meeting with Rose at the café. Her reaction to my coffee habits was one of the things that attracted me to her instantly.

“You have an eight-thirty meeting with the board, then a breakfast meeting at nine with your brothers.” She swipes the screen of her tablet and then asks, “I also need to schedule your international business trip to Japan.”

I relax back in my chair. “What are the client’s preferred dates?”

“I don’t have them, Mr. Teager. I asked if we could propose some tentative dates, and they could pick the most suitable one.”

“Why? We usually do it the other way around.” I look at the young woman in confusion.

“I thought… I mean…” Kelly shifts on her feet. Her nervousness reminds me of my girl, like every other thing these days.

“What is it?”

“I wasn’t sure if there were any specific months or weeks you wouldn’t want to be out of the country.”

“I don’t get it, Kelly.”

“The wedding. I assume it’ll be soon?” she stammers like she’s trying to find the right words. “I mean, in the coming months?”

When I don’t confirm or deny, Kelly says, “I’ll ask the client’s preferred dates, Mr. Teager.”

She leaves, but this entire conversation has my stomach in knots.

My brothers’ confidence, my assistant’s assumption… It seems everyone in the world except my fiancée is excitedly waiting for the wedding. I maximize the calendar app and see that Rose is free for the next thirty minutes. I’ll ask her outright why she isn’t setting a date .

She asked for time, and I gave her time. Six fucking months’ worth.

In the early days, whenever I broached the subject of our engagement, she froze. She fucking froze like she does whenever her panic attacks threaten to surface. Or whenever she’s asked a question in the middle of a presentation. Or whenever she has to choose between two things she doesn’t like.

I thought I was a definitive—a sure thing—but her reactions give life to my own insecurities.

Is she second-guessing her decision?

Is she waiting for someone else?

As these insane, nonsensical questions run through my mind, my gaze lands on the red cube she gifted me for my birthday. She traveled to St. Peppers and surprised me exactly at midnight. I play the MP3 file she played for me that day.

“I love you, Zander. Yours and only yours, Rose.”

Her soft, breathy voice gives me chills.

My hand curls around the resin cube, and the titanium sound wave shines as her words ring out repeatedly.

She’s mine. Only mine.

I close my eyes, the image of her face after I proposed to her forming in my mind. And then she thanked me for wanting her, for loving her.

I run my palms over my face, feeling like a moron.

How can I even think of her hurting me?

I click the call button next to her name on my computer, and she picks up immediately.

“Zander, you’re late.” Her beautiful face fills my computer screen. She’s dressed in another of her red-and-black checkered shirts, buttoned all the way up to her neck.

I bite back a smile. “I didn’t know we had a meeting.”

“We don’t. But you usually call me at eight ten after your assistant has given you a rundown of your morning. I’ve been waiting for the past ten minutes.” She fixes her glasses over her knitted brows and squinted blue eyes.

She is going nowhere.

“Actually, Kelly took longer than usual. She is making travel plans for my Japan trip. She wanted to know if there are any dates I can’t travel.”

“Are there?” She’s completely unaware of my misery.

“You tell me,” I probe.

Her eyebrows furrow as she considers. “I don’t think so. Do you?”

“No.” I release a deep sigh. “How is Cherrywood?” I change the direction of our discussion because the current one is giving me a headache, and I’m not ready to approach this topic just yet.

“Cherrywood is waiting for you.” Rose smiles, and once again, with one upward curl of her lip, she fills some of the cracks in my heart.

“I’m waiting too, couch girl.”