2. Rosenna
Chapter two
Rosenna
W alking upstairs to the gallery showrooms, I watched as Kira ran around in a panic, trying to sort everything out. I didn’t bother her because this was her time to be panic-perfect. She claimed she worked better in this way under pressure, and respectfully, I chose to keep my distance as I watched her run around like a chicken with its head cut off.
Dressed in a beige long-sleeved knit top, khaki pants, and a pair of white heels, I felt physically ready for the meeting but not mentally prepared. My anxiety was at its peak as I began second-guessing whether or not we would make a good impression.
The stress must’ve been written on my face, because Kira’s eyes widened as she approached me.
“ No . Now is not the time to have self-doubt. Now is the time to put on a show and sell this place like your life depends on it.”
“What if it all falls apart?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended with Gavin’s words coiled tight around my throat.
Kira raised her hand before slowly clenching it in a fist. “Rose. Please. You can do this. We were just fine yesterday. I swear to God, if you let Gavin get into your head about not being good enough, I will lock you in my trunk and take you home. Do you understand? Gosh, I’m so stressed my threats don’t even seem to be performing at their optimal level. Get it together, boss.”
I nodded, doing my best to come to my senses. Going over to my office, I set my purse on my desk before leaving to continue helping with the final touches.
Kira smoothed the creases from her shirt as they slowly piled in through the doors, then quickly went down to retrieve them. Adjusting a few flyaways in my office, I stepped out with a smile as a group of well-dressed men ascended the steps.
“This is our main area for exhibits and expos. We provide amenities for all occasions and events, allowing our artists to customize anything they choose… And here we have our director, Rosenna Hart. Rosenna, these are just a few of the marketing, advertising, and personal assistants of Mr. Garcia—as well as his son, Beckham .”
I introduced myself to the eight or nine assistants as politely as I could… however, as I did, I felt a heavy, dark gaze on me from the edge of the group—a gaze that made my skin crawl as the hairs on the back of my neck raised in alarm.
As I introduced myself to one of his marketing assistants, Beckham’s eyes lingered on me. In his half button white shirt and black fitted pants, his presence was captivating, his aura was alluring, and the look in his eyes seemed rather… dangerous. It almost pinned me in place the way it was so intense.
My pulse ticked against my throat. I forced my gaze away, focusing on Kira’s practiced enthusiasm. The man didn’t introduce himself, but I didn’t need him to. His was the only name to a face I didn’t make… Beckham .
Continuing with the presentation of the gallery, Kira and I guided them through the building. Introductions out of the way, now I took charge of the spiel. “We have a vast amount of space for our artists to display as much of their work as they desire, and if requested, the entire museum can be dedicated to them for the duration of their booking in order to gain some foot traffic and publicity.” Kira chimed in here and there in order to upsell the space.
Eventually, we went toward the conference room to discuss pricing and expectations further.
As we stepped inside, time slowed. The whole time I’d been presenting the gallery, I’d felt Beckham’s overbearing gaze upon me, the man shamelessly staring me down. Now we were in the conference room, the more confined space, I felt him almost directly behind me, hovering over me in a way that felt too clo se. I looked up at him for a moment, and I felt my knees weaken slightly as his gaze hardened. His eyes were dark brown, his jaw chiseled. His hair had an attractive, disheveled look to it, and my eyes betrayed me as they shamelessly ran over his defined build.
Rosenna, snap out of it.
I shook myself from my thoughts and practically blushed like a schoolgirl.
Luckily, Kira was back on presenting duties, talking through arrangements and pricing structures. By the time she’d finished, I had control of myself again, and I joined her in outlining expectations of both parties.
Mr. Garcia’s associates listened, nodded, took notes.
Beckham was silent. His eyes never moved from me.
At the end of the presentation, one of Beckham’s assistants smiled and said, “Well, Mrs. Hart, everything looks perfect. From the price to the location itself, I have to say we are very pleased and will have our final answer for you soon.” Assenting voices confirmed their mutual agreement.
Kira stood up, walked over to the door, and opened it. “Gentlemen, before you leave, we have complimentary champagne, wine, and whiskey waiting for you in one of our event rooms. Please feel free to continue looking around.”
As they proceeded to rise and head to the door, discussing quietly, I began putting the projector and the equipment used for it away. Very soon, however, I felt a presence behind me. I turned to face the man of the hour: Beckham Garcia.
“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced,” I said, tamping down on my nerves.
He stuck his left hand out for me to shake. “Beckham Garcia… clearly you are Rosenna Hart.” I felt my knees weaken again. Beckham’s voice was deep, the tiniest rasp to it. My name rolled off his tongue, almost like he practiced it to commit it to memory.
Rosenna… please. You are a married woman.
Placing my hand in his, I tensed at a thrill but reluctantly pushed it away as I forced myself to speak. “It’s nice to finally be acquainted.” I gave a small grin and felt my heart flutter as he ran his thumb over my wedding ring.
We both looked down at our hands for a moment before I pulled away quickly and turned around. Grabbing the files I needed, I went to take a step back when I felt his hand on the small of my back, preventing me from bumping into him.
Why is he standing so close…?
I looked up at him through my eyelashes as warmth spread through my body.
My pulse hammered in my chest, so loud I was almost afraid he’d hear it.
His touch against me felt charged. If I was crazy, I’d say I could feel his fingertips pressing into me.
He fixed his gaze on me, almost as if he was captivated, trying to paint the image in his mind to never forget. His eyes held so much intensity… almost as if he wanted me to notice the fire in them, the danger, the intense pull—
“Rosenna, would you be so kind as to help me escort our guests out?” Kira said at the door.
Beckham and I quickly pulled away from one another. I looked over to Kira, who looked like she was going to go into a panic attack, but she simply stepped aside as Beckham seemed to come to his senses before he stormed out of the room.
“Fire me, please,” she whispered in a plea.
I placed the files on the table as I pushed my hair out of my face, flustered. “What just happened?” I whispered.
Kira came over to me quickly. “What just happened is our biggest potential client just had a K-Drama moment with you!”
“It’s not what it looks like,” I said, trying to convince myself.
Kira shook her head. “Stay here while I clear them out. I need things to remain PG, and by the ’fuck me’ eyes you were giving him just now, I need to be cautious.”
My eyes widened. “Kira, stop it!” I whisper-yelled. She just raised her hands in the air as she left me in the conference room.
Taking a seat, my leg bounced in worry. I could still feel the lingering touch of Beckham’s hand as a blush heated my face.
You are over-exaggerating. Kira always over-exaggerates. Nothing happened. Nothing . Just land him as a client and go about your life. It was all just in the moment. Whatever it was is over. You’re… happily married. Nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen.
I arrived home around six PM and decided to do a bit of pampering for myself. Getting the tub ready, I lit a few candles and let down my hair. I removed my clothes and lay in the tub as I picked up a book I’d been reading. It was an erotic novel… Sue me.
Gavin and I hadn’t made love for some time now. I could quite literally count on my fingers the number of times we’d actually had sex. Again, he was my first everything, but we were not all that intimate with one another… which was fine. But I had to keep myself rather… occupied , and the only way I could was through explicit romance and fantasy novels.
However, tonight something was wrong. In the space of the hunky male MC, I usually pictured Gavin at his best-looking, or failing that someone totally imaginary. Soaking in the bath now, however, someone very real and very not Gavin strutted about in my mind: Beckham . His eyes, his demeanor, his hands… I shifted in the water, pressing my thighs together, frustration curling inside me like a brewing storm.
I closed the book and sighed heavily as I leaned back in the tub, silently chastising my unruly thoughts.
It was just in the moment. Nothing happened. It was only in the moment.
After a little while of soaking, I shaved, washed my hair, bathed, and exfoliated. As I was finishing, I felt a presence enter the bedroom, and I looked over my shoulder through the bathroom door to see Gavin, who had just entered and placed his belongings on his bedside table. Deciding I was finished, I wrapped my towel around myself and drained the water before exiting the bathroom.
He didn’t even glance up or acknowledge me. No “hi,” no tired smile. Just silence.
My fingers curled around the edge of my towel. So we’re still doing this .
For a few days now, I’d been treading on thin ice, and this was the first time I’d seen him for more than a minute, other than when he was going to bed or work.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” I said softly as I grabbed a silk nightgown and a pair of matching panties.
Gavin tugged his tie loose and threw it on the edge of the bed as he unbuttoned the top few buttons on his dress shirt. “I suppose I am… Long day at the office… Doesn’t help much that Brent told me he’s getting impatient.”
Putting my clothes on as he stared at his phone, scrolling and typing away, I responded, “Well, you can tell Brent that my meeting went successfully today, and I should be able to pay him back faster than anticipated. You know, since he can’t wait and all.”
At the tone of my voice, Gavin made eye contact with me in the mirror. “You really think you’re going to be able to do this on your own? You have yet even once to ask me to borrow money or to ask for help.”
I looked away, set to brushing my hair. “Wouldn’t that prove that I’m doing fine then? That I’m not useless ?” I asked.
For the first time, Gavin looked guilty.
“Rosenna, you know I didn’t mean that. I... just want a wife who will do wife things.”
I whipped my head over to him, almost enraged. “And what are ’wife things,’ Gavin?” My voice wavered between exhaustion and anger. “Making your dinner every night? Folding your laundry? Staying home all day, waiting for you to tell me what I can and can’t do with my life? Tell me. What’s missing? What do I need to do after working all day to finally qualify for your version of ’wife duties?’”
He stayed silent. Of course he did.
I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head as I slipped on my slippers and yanked my robe off the hook. “I’m sleeping in the guest bedroom tonight. Maybe I’ll learn how to be a little less useless there.”
I didn’t give him a chance to answer.
Didn’t let him see the tears threatening to spill… well, that had already fell as I swallowed the sob in my chest.
I just walked out.