FOUR
Rose
T he next morning, I opt for a pair of ankle boots instead of heels. The price I paid for them isn’t quite as excessive as my Louboutins, but they’re still cute and professional, and I won’t mind if they catch a little construction dust.
As I make my way down the hallway, I can already hear the whirring sound of a power tool coming from my office. I turn through the door to find Nate affixing new drywall to the ceiling. He stands on the ladder with his arms above his head, muscles tensing as he drills into the sheet. His shirt pulls tight around his shoulders but hangs loose around his torso, and between his teeth, he holds two extra screws.
Once he releases the screwdriver trigger and the sound dies away, he catches sight of me from the corner of his eye. “Mornin’ ma’am.”
I lean against the door frame and cross my arms. “You don’t have to call me that.”
He shrugs and pulls the screws from his mouth. “Judging from the other day, it seems you run a tight ship around here. Don’t want to offend.”
“It’s Rose, and you already accomplished the offending yesterday.” I raise an eyebrow.
His gaze trails down to my boots. “Those suit you better.”
I uncross my arms and point toward a tarp-covered shelf. “I need to get some files down.”
“Sure.” He slides his power drill into a hook on his belt and descends the ladder to lift the tarp.
I set my bag down and cross the room to search the shelf. Thank goodness I’ve organized them because Nate has to hold up the tarp while I do my searching. It’s a tight squeeze as I stand on my toes next to him, sorting through the dozens of folders.
He smells lightly of fresh soap and strangely, cinnamon. It’s pleasant in a way I wasn’t expecting from someone whose job consists of physical labor, and I breathe him in with an unplanned pause.
“I think that’s everything.” I clear my throat and collect my files, then back away as he repositions the covering.
He runs his hand through his loose hazelnut hair, pushing it back away from his forehead. “So, like I said before, I’ll finish patching up the ceiling today, and then tomorrow I’ll get to painting.”
I nod, holding my files quietly to my chest.
“I won’t need the full day. Come back at lunch and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Ok, well, um…thanks,” I reply just as my mother comes screeching through the door.
“Oh, Rose… ” she gasps as she peers around the room. “What a mess…” Her eyes pause on Nate and she frowns. “Where is Joe?”
Nate turns to face her squarely. “He’s up in Duluth with his wife. So, I stepped—”
“Well, make sure you give us the same quality work.” She points a finger at him, taking in his dusty t-shirt and jeans with a scowl. “The original builder had a keen eye for detail when he constructed these offices, and I don’t want that going forgotten upon a shoddy repair. Attention to detail is a must.”
Nate nods and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Of course, ma’am. I don’t do shoddy work. Once I’m finished, you won’t be able to tell there was any work done at all. And I encourage you to contact me if anything isn’t up to the standards of your property.”
She holds his gaze sternly for a moment as if he’s telling some lie she’s trying to see through. But she eventually sighs and turns back to me. “Have you spoken to Malcolm? He’s been trying to reach you.”
My shoulders fall with a shake of my head. “No, Mom, I haven’t.”
“He was showing me photos of this quaint little villa in Cabo he wants to rent.” She beams.
“Good for him.” I pull my phone from my pocket, pretending to check my texts.
Nate has climbed up the ladder again and is back to work while we speak.
“He wants to take you there. Just the two of you!” My mother practically squeals. “Think of all the making up you could do!”
The smallest rumbling laugh sounds from Nate’s direction.
I shoot him a death glare. “Mom, a trip to Cabo is not going to win me back.”
She lets out a frustrated grumble and retreats to the door. “Well, good luck finding a better prospect for a husband, Rose. I refuse to understand you anymore. Malcolm is as good as they come.”
“Oh, really?” I raise an eyebrow. “Well, count me out of marriage altogether then.”
She shrugs as she slips out the door. “Don’t come crying to me in ten years when you’re living in the suburbs and shopping the clearance section.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t,” I mutter under my breath after she leaves.
Nate observes from his ladder. “They probably don’t sell those heels in the clearance section,”
My blood boils. “I will never shop clearance.”
He crosses his arms and leans back against the metal rungs. “Don’t you teach people how to use their money carefully?”
I set my jaw. “I help people put their hard-earned assets safely away for their children and grandchildren. That has nothing to do with shopping sales.”
“Yeah, but if you don’t go to Cabo with your future rich husband, you might have to shop those sales. Plus, you won’t get to do all the making up.” He raises a roguish brow.
“Oh, stop it.” I roll my eyes and turn to the door.
“He must like you a lot if Cabo’s on the menu.”
“A trip to Cabo is pocket change for him.”
Nate exhales a low whistle as he goes back to his work. “Sounds like you’re missing out.”
The thought that I’m missing out on Malcolm almost makes me laugh, but with my hand on the doorframe, I tap my foot and look at Nate. “I can afford my own trip to Cabo.”
Nate nods as he places a screw between his teeth again and lines up another piece of drywall. It’s all the acknowledgment he gives me.
So, with one more tap of my boot on the low-pile carpet, I spin from him and leave the room.
My clients for the morning consist of a nineteen-year-old college student who has just come into a huge inheritance from his deceased father, a mid-forties couple with five children enrolled at the most prestigious private school in the city, and an elderly widow looking to make her younger sister her beneficiary.
Each of the meetings go well, plus I’m generously offered a date by the nineteen-year-old, which I tastefully decline. If the seven-year age gap isn’t enough, I have a strict rule against dating clients. And that particular excuse was a little easier for him to take.
At lunch, I stop by the building cafe and then make my way back to my office, chai tea and fresh green salad in hand.
I’ve given Nate ample time to finish up before midday like he promised, but to my dismay, he’s still packing his bag when I walk in.
I open my mouth to ask if he’s leaving, but before the words come out, I notice he’s not alone. Just inside the door stands someone tall and auburn, and certainly not welcome.
“What are you doing here?” I stop short of coming all the way into the room.
Malcolm is leaning casually against the wall staring at his phone, but he quickly slips it into the pocket of his Armani suit and smiles his perfect crooked smile at me.
“Rose, you look…” His clear blue eyes slide slowly down my legs. “…I’d better not say.”
He tries to smirk, but I interrupt with a repeat of my original question. “What are you doing here?”
With a shrug, he turns to Nate. “I was just in the building. Your mom wanted to see some photos of this villa in Cabo—you have to see it. Your repairman here told me you’d be back soon.” He squints at the ceiling. “Looks like you had a nasty leak.”
Nate clips the buckles shut on his bag and extends his hand. “Ah, so you must be Malcolm?”
Malcolm regards him with mild curiosity as he accepts the handshake. “Malcolm Carnegie, yes. Of the Manhattan Carnegies.”
Nate poorly feigns interest and then puffs out his chest. “Ah, well I’m Nathaniel Hale. Of the Fitchburg Hales.”
Malcolm scratches his chin. “Hmm, I’m not familiar.”
Nate turns back to his bag with a wave of his hand. “No, you wouldn’t be. We’re only known among an exclusive group.”
With a furrowed brow, Malcolm returns his attention to me. “Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat?”
I point at the boxed salad on my desk. “I already have lunch. But thanks for stopping by.”
He cocks his head, regarding me for a long moment as he deliberates his next tactic. He’s good at that. He’s a corporate lawyer, and he’s paid well for it, which of course is the simple fact that led my mother to set us up a year ago.
A grin breaks across his face and bright white teeth sparkle back at me. He steps forward, touching his fingers to the soft cashmere of my dress. “Maybe we can get dinner? I can spare about an hour tonight. Wear that pretty little blue thing I got you last spring.”
I close my hand around his and lift it away from my hip. “I have other plans.”
He grabs my hand instead. “Aw, come on, Rose.” He pulls me closer. “Your mom says you’re just playing hard to get. Let’s drop the game, alright?”
Over his shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Nate, who is quietly observing the exchange. His eyes meet mine, calculating.
“Malcolm.” I tug my hand from his and shake my head. “I have work to do.”
He glances at my lunch. “I’ll just keep you company while you eat, then.”
Nate clears his throat. “I actually need to speak to her about a few details regarding the repair. So, I’ll be using her time, Malcolm.”
Malcolm cranes his neck, regarding him with a mild scowl. “Fine.” He straightens his suit jacket. “I’ll call you later, then.” He gives me a half smile before leaving the room.
I make a mental note to come up with a reason why I’ll be too busy to take his call tonight. Ever since we broke up, he’s been impossible to get off the phone when I answer. But when we were together, he always forgot to call.
Once he’s gone, I lift my gaze to the fully patched ceiling and then lower it back to Nate. “What do you need to talk with me about?”
“I don’t need to talk to you.” He slings his bag over his shoulder.
I cock my head. “But you said you—”
“Yeah, I was just getting that creep off your back.” He raises a disgusted brow. “You really dated him?”
I blink widely at him. Who does he think he is, trying to play hero for me? I clench my fists. “I did not ask for your help.”
He gestures to the empty doorway. “Aren’t you glad he’s gone, though?”
“That wasn’t…who do you think you are?!”
He shrugs and slides his hands into his pockets. “He wasn’t gonna take no for an answer. I saw it in his eyes. And you certainly weren’t making much of an effort to tell him off.”
I cross my arms and arch a brow. “Well, I wasn’t gonna kick him out. But I think I was getting my point across.”
“Fair enough.” His eyes hold mine calmly.
I tap my foot. “Also, the Fitchburg Hales? What was that boloney?”
“Yes, of Wisconsin. We’re a fairly select group, the seven of us.” The corner of his mouth turns up.
With a scoff, I pick up my salad fork and slide into the chair behind my tarp-covered desk. “You’re hilarious.” The sarcasm in my voice oozes like honey.
“So are you. See you tomorrow.”
He hurries past me without another word, but I catch a glimpse of the full-on smirk that has grown on his face. He isn’t just a grump. No. He’s a grump who will only let his smile free at my expense.
Classy.
With a harrumph, I dig into my salad. I could have handled Malcolm on my own. It probably would have required sitting through his persuasive attempts while I ate my arugula, but he would have left eventually. He always grew bored with me.
I stab a cherry tomato and pop it into my mouth as I slide my phone onto the desk and pull up the Bloom app. I didn’t receive any messages earlier this morning, but it now indicates I have two.
I tap the first.
Stewart, 32, PHD How about a drink sometime, beautiful?
You’d think he could come up with a more clever line if he has a freakin’ PHD. I swipe to close the chat and open the next.
Blake, 27, MBA Hey there. Your profile pic is awesome. Was it taken at First Avenue?
I hesitantly type a response.
Rose, 26, BA Hey. Yes, last summer at a concert. It’s such a great venue. Have you been?
Blake, 27, MBA Yeah, I went to almost every concert last summer. Surprised I didn’t see you there. I would have remembered you ;)
I shove in another bite of salad with a deep breath. The flirtation is so forced I could almost vomit, but guys tend to spread it on thick at the beginning.
Rose, 26, BA It was pretty crowded that night. So, do you live in the city?
I just have to get through the initial small talk and then…
Blake, 27, MBA You’d have liked me. Your dress was gorgeous. If I’d been there, it would have looked even better in a heap on my bedroom floor…
Ok. And that’s enough. I swipe that chat closed too and slide the phone away from me as I slump back in my chair. This is exactly why I haven’t dipped my toes into online dating until now. Behind a screen, you can say whatever you want. Apparently, Bloom doesn’t have the douchebag filter perfected yet.
I’ll just have to tell Junie it won’t work out for me. In-person connections are better. I want to look a man in the eye while he delivers a desperate pick-up line. That way he can look right back at me and see how pathetic he really is.
No one worth my time will see any value in dating apps anyway, right? If they’re like me, they’ll see how shallow it all is and search for a more genuine alternative.
Like an app that hides identity and appearance and all those shallow things.
I stare at my phone and chew on my lip.
There’s one person who joined Blindly for exactly that reason. It couldn’t hurt to give him a chance.
I chew harder.
But what if he is living in his mother’s basement with a lap full of dollar-store snacks?
I sit up and close my fingers around my phone. No, he owns a business. He takes regular trips to the lake. He has his life together. And he’s been perfectly cordial so far.
I tap open the app and type a message below his from last night.
ASingleRose26 Can I ask you a few questions? I know this app is all about anonymity, and I’m not asking you to reveal your name or what you look like or anything, but I’d feel more comfortable if I knew some things about you first. When was your last relationship? What school did you go to? Do you live on your own? Are you secretly married?
I stare at his icon on the screen for twenty minutes while I finish my salad in silence. But there is no response.
Maybe I’ve been too forward? Maybe he doesn’t want to reveal too much about himself so quickly. He’s on the app to be mysterious anyway. I shouldn’t push to bend the rules he may have set for himself. I’ve scared him away already.
Or maybe he just has a nine-to-five job like the rest of the world.
I look at my watch to see that it’s almost one.
“Shoot.” I clear my salad box and toss it in the trash as I leap up from my seat. I have a client arriving in five minutes.
Junie catches me on my way down the hall. “Mr. Pearson is in the conference room waiting. I told him you’d be in soon.” She furrows her brow. “Everything alright?”
I fix my hair as I hurriedly sort the files in my arms. “Yes, just lost track of time. Thank you, I’ll go see him now.”
She nods, but as I turn away, she speaks up once more. “Oh, by the way. Miss Evangeline called. She’d like to meet with you this Saturday for her annual revisions.”
I pause and let my head fall to the side. Miss Evangeline is the tiniest, sweetest, elderly woman, and she’s a client who makes the company a lot of money each year with her extravagant investments, but she never visits our office. She always requests a personal meeting at her home two hours away in St. Cloud. And we always indulge her request because she’s literally our biggest client. And this year it’s my turn to make the trek to her offensively gigantic mansion to pet her three lazy corgis while she sips tea and tells me about her great-grandchildren’s latest cello recital.
There are worse ways to spend my time, but it’s still a perfectly good Saturday I’ll never get back.
***
Later that night, as I slide Daisy’s food bowl in front of her, my phone chimes, indicating a new message on Blindly.
I scramble to pick it up while Daisy scarfs down her dinner like she’s never eaten in her life.
BigSpoon92 Hey. Of course you can ask me those things. How could we get to know each other without asking any questions? I’m not trying to hide anything. I’m just avoiding the superficial, and pictures tend to really cloud a person’s judgment.
So, if it’s the pictures he’s worried about, maybe he isn’t the best looking. I take a deep breath. I can deal with that. Physical appearance isn’t everything.
Another message comes in.
BigSpoon92 I support myself in my own house that I bought five years ago, and no, I’m not married. I went to Marian. My last relationship was two years ago.
I sink into the sofa and pull a blanket around my legs. Marian? It’s a college in Wisconsin, but I don’t know much about it. It certainly isn’t an ivy league school, but he owns his own business, so his education must have done well for him. The part of his message that catches my eye though, is the fact that he hasn’t been in a relationship in two years. Why not?
ASingleRose26 Two years is a long time
BigSpoon92 Yeah, I’ve been pretty busy
ASingleRose26 Busy tree felling?
BigSpoon92 I'm impressed you remembered the term. But haha, no I haven’t entered a competition in years. Too busy chopping wood for my own place on the lake
ASingleRose26 You live there part time?
BigSpoon92 Yeah, I visit most weekends. I’d live there full time if I could though
ASingleRose26 I love going to the lake. My brother has a home there on five acres
BigSpoon92 Mine’s not quite five acres ;)
ASingleRose26 Don’t be coy. You own your own business. I’m sure it’s gorgeous
BigSpoon92 So, do I get to ask you questions, now?
ASingleRose26 Ask away
BigSpoon92 What’s your greatest fear? Favorite Starburst flavor? Are YOU secretly married?
ASingleRose26 Whew, those are all deep. I’ll work backward. Not married, and never have been. Unpopular opinion, red Starburst is king. My greatest fear is…not being successful, I think.
BigSpoon92 I don’t think we can continue. Anyone who doesn’t think the pink starburst is the best is certifiably insane
ASingleRose26 Darn, I was really enjoying talking to you
BigSpoon92 Sorry it had to come to this
ASingleRose26 Anything I can do to turn things around? Eat a whole bag of pink Starburst? I’d do it for you
BigSpoon92 I don’t know. I’ll think about it. For now, you’ll just have to prove your sanity in other ways
ASingleRose26 I have a bachelor’s degree from a well-respected university. Is that enough?
BigSpoon92 Smarts and sanity are not the same
ASingleRose26 Fair enough. I guess you’ll just have to meet me and decide for yourself
BigSpoon92 That seems like the only solution to this
I’m not sure if I expect him to ask me out at this point, but after a few minutes when he doesn’t continue, I decide we aren’t quite there yet.
ASingleRose26 What’s your favorite color?
BigSpoon92 Continuing the hardball questions, I see. Probably green
ASingleRose26 What kind of green?
BigSpoon92 uhhh… dark green?
ASingleRose26 Manly. Approved. Favorite animal?
BigSpoon92 haha, were you gonna stop talking to me if I liked another kind of green?
ASingleRose26 maybe ;)
BigSpoon92 I think wolves are my favorite animals. Their pack dynamics are wildly misunderstood, but they’re fascinating.
ASingleRose26 what’s misunderstood?
BigSpoon92 Researchers used to think the males would fight for dominance and declare one wolf the alpha, but it turns out, the packs are just big families. The “alpha” is the father. No one challenges him in the way we once thought. The offspring eventually leave the pack and find a new mate to start a new pack. It’s really not as dramatic as the myths say. But the families are really tight-knit and loyal. I find it cool, I guess.
ASingleRose26 If I tell you my favorite animal is the otter because they’re adorable when they float around holding hands, are you gonna make fun of me?
BigSpoon92 haha, no, because I think they’re adorable too.
ASingleRose26 I mean, in my next life, I want to be an otter
BigSpoon92 If you’re an otter, I’m an otter.
ASingleRose26 haha :)
I laugh and check the clock. It’s already almost eleven. I’m usually in bed by ten.
ASingleRose26 Darn, it’s late. I should get to bed. I have a busy day tomorrow
BigSpoon92 Ok, no problem. Sleep well, little spoon.
Shoot, he makes me smile. I’ve gotta be careful.