CHAPTER 18
Liam
In the two weeks that followed my experience with the Black Silk Society, I changed. It wasn’t a drastic, blow-my-life-up kind of change. In fact, most things remained exactly the same. However, it was there in the small things.
It started with boundaries—ones that protected me.
I refused to run out the door like a madman every morning just to get to work extra early.
Instead, I ate breakfast. Well, I tried to eat breakfast. Sometimes, I just drank coffee and read a book because the peace and quiet was nice.
And by reading a book… I definitely meant catching up on trashy reality shows. It was good for my soul.
I stopped answering work emails after ten and let them pile up—which they did.
Mr. Jennings had a penchant for sending me late-night demands for the next day.
I left them all unread until I went into the office in the morning.
I even said no to staying late twice. Only twice.
It took a lot of nerve for me to do it once, let alone twice.
I couldn’t stomach doing it more than that.
Especially not with how Mr. Jennings had stared at me like I’d grown a second head.
And more than that, I started vocalizing what I wanted. Sometimes it was little things like where to go for lunch or the afternoon coffee. Other times, it was choosing to actually reply to messages on my dating apps and entertain the conversations being thrown my way.
Which was exactly how I ended up sitting across from a very attractive man in a nice bar downtown for drinks after work.
Nathan Klein was objectively handsome with his windswept blond hair, bright hazel eyes, and easy smile.
As the assistant to another CEO, he understood how to manage schedules, handle impossible demands, and survive on caffeine.
He was nice—really nice. Conversation flowed easily with him, and I laughed more than I had in a while.
Unfortunately, the problem was that I wasn’t… interested. There was no spark or intrigue. Instead, I found my mind wandering right back to the man who gave me the watch I refused to take off. The same watch I mindlessly brushed my thumb over as I listened to Nathan chat.
“I swear every time Mr. Rowe gets a new girlfriend, all hell breaks loose,” he was saying. “This latest one? She’s got him invested in his own goddamn horoscope.”
“Really?” I frowned because that didn’t sound like Mr. Rowe at all. I knew the man from a few of his business arrangements with Mr. Jennings.
“Yes!” he exclaimed. “I had to reschedule a whole board meeting because Mercury was in retrograde.”
“No,” I said, even as he was shaking his head. “You’re lying.”
“I wish I was lying.” He leaned forward, and his hand came to rest on my arm.
A part of me wished the way his thumb rubbed small circles on my inner wrist did something for me, but it didn’t.
I picked up my glass and took a slow sip to distract myself from that thought.
“He sent me an article that talked about how important it was for him to protect his corporate energy during a particular moon phase.”
I nearly choked on my drink, and his hand slid up my arm, squeezing for support. The conversation paused long enough for me to regain my composure. His gaze drifted over my face with genuine concern.
“You good?” Nathan asked.
“Yup.” I nodded a little too vigorously.
“Good,” he replied with a wide grin. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally kill the best first date I’ve had in a long time.”
“I…” Crap. I wasn’t sure how to reply to that. I wasn’t good at letting people down. I liked him, but not enough to want another date. Not enough to try.
“Here.” A drink landed on the bartop next to us, and we turned. The bartender gave me a tight smile as he nodded down to the drink. “That’s for you.”
I glanced down at the cocktail he nudged in my direction. Visually, it was intriguing, with its black bleeding upward into a deep crimson. The slow curl of colors was gorgeous, but I had no idea what I was looking at.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s cherry and pomegranate juice with a splash of vanilla vodka over black raspberry liquor with a splash of blackberry syrup,” he explained. “The gentleman called it The Red Rose.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I froze. The Red Rose. The words sent a rush of heat surging through my chest as I stared at the exceptionally intricate-looking drink. Dark at the bottom. Crimson on top. It was an elegant statement in a glass.
The chatter and bustle of the bar blurred around me. Nathan was still talking beside me—some assessment about the drink’s elaborate design—but his voice faded beneath the violent pounding of my pulse.
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
Not when it came to roses.
Owen.
My gaze snapped up toward the crowded bar, searching before I could stop myself. Every dark suit caught my attention. Every glimpse of movement made my heart kick up harder against my ribs. I scanned the room like I expected him to suddenly be there.
A part of me hoped he would.
Nathan’s hand slipped gently through mine. I struggled to tear my eyes off the crowd and back to my date. When I did, his brows were furrowed together as he watched me closely.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Was I? Two weeks ago, I would have said yes automatically. I would have smiled politely and ignored the feeling building in my chest. But my night with Owen had ruined that version of me. I couldn’t ignore the fact that the moment I saw that drink, every part of me lit up in hopes of finding him.
In hopes of finding the man who left me roses.
“Yeah,” I lied. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
But I wasn’t okay. Not really. I was restless with a newfound energy coursing through my veins. Restless and hopeful.
Because one rose was bound to lead to another rose.
And every rose led right back to Owen.