13. Daniel
13
DANIEL
W e continue to walk through the streets of Mayfair, and she excitedly talks about the buildings, giving me historical facts as we pass certain places of interest. We stop and look in the windows of some designer shops, but she doesn’t go inside saying they are out of her budget. Most women I date would have happily dragged me into the shop and done whatever they needed to secure the bag.
“Do you want to walk through Hyde Park or go around?” she asks when we reach the park.
“Which way is quicker?”
“Through the park,” she answers.
“How are your feet?”
“Fine.” She huffs.
I would say they are not fine, and she might be in some pain. “Come with me,” I say, grabbing her hand and taking her into the nearest designer shop I can find.
“Daniel, what are you doing?” she asks, tugging at my hand, but I won’t let go, it feels nice having her hand in mine.
“Hi, can I help you?” the sales assistant asks.
“Yes, I’d love to grab her some flats. I know her feet are hurting walking in these heels, but she’s too stubborn to say anything. I think she’s a size eight?” I tell the woman.
She looks over at Rosie and then back to me. “Let’s see what we have,” she says, walking away.
“Daniel, what are you doing?” Rosie asks me.
“Sit, relax. Let’s get you some flats so you don’t end up ruining your feet,” I say, taking a seat, and reluctantly she follows. She slips her shoes off and I can see the red blisters on her toes as she stretches them. The sales assistant brings out some designer sneakers and hands them to Rosie to try on. She puts them on, and I know they feel good on her feet, then she spies the price.
“They are too expensive,” she whispers to me.
“My treat,” I tell her.
“No,” she says, shaking her head.
“We’ll take them. No need to wrap them up, she’ll wear them out of the store. If we can box her heels that would be great,” I tell the woman serving us.
“Daniel, no.”
“You gave up your night to hang out with me, it’s the least I could do,” I tell her.
“I’m not going to win this argument, am I?” I shake my head, which makes her pout but then I see a sly smile form across her lips when she doesn’t think I’m watching.
We walk out of the shop, and I can already tell her feet are feeling better as we cross the road and head into Hyde Park. The sun is slowly setting even though it’s late in the evening, which means there are still a lot of people walking around through the park.
“Do you come to the park often? You don’t live far from it,” Rosie asks.
“My morning runs are around the park.”
“You run around the park, is that like doable?” she asks.
It makes me chuckle. “Yes, it’s doable. It’s just over four miles,” I tell her.
“You run four miles every morning?”
“Yeah,” I say, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“Guess it explains why you look like that.”
“Look like what?” I ask.
“Trying to fish for compliments, Mr. DuPont.” She giggles.
“No, but if you want to give me some, it’s been a while since I’ve heard any,” I tease.
“I’m not going to say it,” she says stubbornly.
“I know you’re thinking it,” I tease.
“Please, you have women stroking your ego every day.” She huffs.
“I don’t care about their opinions.”
“Then you shouldn’t care about mine.”
“Unfortunately, I do.”
Rosie stops and it takes me a couple of steps to realize she isn’t following me. I turn around and she’s standing there staring at me with a frown on her face. Fuck
“Ignore me,” I say, turning to keep walking.
“You make it hard to.” I still, her confession dances on the night air and swirls around me. “Shit,” she says as she storms off in another direction from the path we are taking.
“Rosie, wait,” I call after her.
Ignoring me as she continues to stomp through the grass, I catch up to her and halt her steps.
“Daniel, I shouldn’t have said that.” I can see the anguish on her face as she chews her nails nervously.
“I think you should have,” I tell her, stepping closer.
She shakes her head as she steps back away from me. “You need to stay there, and I need to stay here.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my client.”
“Not because of any other reason?” I ask, raising a brow. “Are we going to talk about what happened in France?”
Rosie gasps, and for the first time I see color on her cheeks. “Nothing happened.”
“Yes, it did.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she argues, turning and heading into the park’s darkness.
“You don’t want to hear the way you took what you wanted from me in the darkness?” She shakes her head as she continues to walk off. “It was one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced?” I yell after her.
She rushes back toward me shushing me. “Are you insane yelling like that for everyone to hear?”
I look around where we are, and no one is paying us any attention. “Well, it’s the truth.”
“Doesn’t matter. It can never happen again.” Then I watch as she literally draws a line in the dirt. “You are there, and I am here.”
“You drew a line in the dirt?”
“Yes. You are my client now. Everything that has happened between us can never happen again. Do you understand me?”
“No,” I say, shoving my hands in my pockets.
Rosie throws her hands up in the air. “Please, Daniel. Hear me when I say, nothing can happen. Working for Ivy is a dream, and I will not do anything to jeopardize that. My career and my reputation in this business means more to me than … than …” she stumbles over her words.
“Than me,” I say, answering for her.
Her face falls. “I don’t mean it like that.”
“But you did mean it.” Silence then falls between us. “Come on, let’s get you home,” I say as I start to walk in the direction of Chelsea.
“Daniel, wait,” she calls out after me. I ignore her and she grabs my arm and pulls me to stop.
“I’m sorry, okay. What I said …”
I can see the anguish on her face. “I’m a big boy, Rosie. It’s fine.”
“Friends. I want us to be friends. Please, I need you as my friend right now,” she pleads with me and the desperation in her voice kills me. “I like this,” she says, waving her hands between us. “The walking, talking, the hanging out together.”
“I get it.” I shove my hands in my pockets. “I’ll be your friend, Rosie,” I say. Her brows pull together. “Come on, let’s get you home.”