Chapter 4 Rosalie
FOUR
ROSALIE
Ibit into one of the waffles Enzo had made for breakfast and closed my eyes. Enzo made amazing waffles. When I asked how he did it, he winked and told me the secret was love.
It was cute but bullshit. I was fairly certain he was using a combination of vanilla and butter.
Fox rubbed my thigh as he ate his waffle and the eggs he’d made. They were runny, but Fox seemed to have an issue with his food being runny. I thought it was cute.
“Egg soup. My favorite,” Cole said, eyeing his scrambled eggs. “You know, Evans, you could let them cook for an additional thirty seconds. It wouldn’t hurt.”
Fox grunted and forked more of the eggs into his mouth as Ethan swept into the room. He kissed my lips sweetly before helping himself to waffles, foregoing the eggs and grabbing toast instead.
“What’s everyone’s plan for today?” Enzo asked from his spot at the table.
“Fox and I are going out tonight,” Cole said. “Right, Foxy boy?”
“Yeah.” Fox pushed his plate away after eating only half of his food, which was odd. Fox could put down food, but he’d been eating a lot less lately. He wiped his mouth before kissing me.
“I’m headed to the gym for the morning,” Fox continued, getting to his feet. “Then might fuck around on the football field with a couple of the guys from the team.”
“I’ll fuck around in the gym with you,” Cole called out. “If you want company. I haven’t played ball in forever. I’ll go with.”
“Up to you.” Fox stretched.
“Yeah. I’m in.” Cole quickly scarfed down his food.
“E?” Enzo asked. “What are you doing today?”
“Basement. I’m trying to get ahead. We’re selling out pretty fast. I don’t want to run behind and sales slow.”
“You can take a break,” Enzo started.
“I had a break. I need to get back to work. I like working. Keeps me sane.” Ethan offered us a quick smile.
I hated that he was making drugs. It often felt like it was his whole life. He was getting better about hanging out with me, though. I know he felt guilty about everything that had happened recently, but I didn’t want him to feel that way.
“Rosalie, are you going to call Anson and do some music stuff?” Ethan asked, looking at me.
I blinked and shook my head. “Uh, no. I-I haven’t spoken to him much lately. I’ll probably hang out here at home with Cotton and read. Work on some party stuff.”
“Why not music?” Ethan pressed. “I don’t want you to fall behind. I know how much it means to you, sweetheart. You haven’t been practicing lately.”
I forced a smile out. “I’m just taking a break. Everyone needs a break, right?”
Ethan frowned. “You never take breaks—”
“E, man. She’s taking a break. Drop it, OK?” Cole broke in.
Ethan’s frown deepened, and he poked at his waffles. “Am I missing something here?”
“No.” I smiled at him. “I’m really just taking a break. It’s good to rest the vocal cords.”
E sat forward and smiled, relief on his face. “OK. Good. Then definitely take a break, babe.”
“I’ll help you in the basement,” Enzo said to Ethan before looking at me. “And I’ll help you when you get to the party planning part of your day.”
Before I could answer him, his phone rang.
He answered. “De Luca.”
He frowned for a moment.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, let him in.” He hung up, the frown still on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Fox asked.
“Uh, nothing. Rosalie, your dad is here.” Enzo looked at me.
I blinked rapidly at the information. “What? He is?”
Enzo nodded. A moment later, the doorbell rang. I bolted up and ran to the door, the guys moving to the living room at a slower pace.
I pulled the door open to find my dad standing on the front step.
“Hey, pumpkin,” he greeted me softly.
“Dad,” I said, my throat tight. “Is everything OK?”
His bottom lip wobbled, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “Can we talk?”
I nodded and let him into the house.
“John,” Enzo greeted him in a cool voice as I led him into the living room. “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”
“I came to speak to Rosalie,” he said. “I’d like to take her out for the day.”
“Not fucking happening,” Cole said immediately.
I made to argue, but Enzo held his hand up.
“Where do you want to take her?” Enzo asked.
“Just out,” John said. “I want to spend the day with her.”
“OK. I’ll go. Just let me grab my bag.” I kissed Enzo quickly as Fox stepped forward and engaged my dad in conversation. I knew why he was doing it. My dad adored Fox. It was his way of diffusing a rapidly escalating situation, especially if Cole kept at it.
I dashed upstairs and grabbed my bag before rushing back down to find no one seemed to be fighting, but the atmosphere was tense.
I kissed Enzo quickly before going to my dad’s side.
“We’ll be back later,” I said.
Enzo’s dark eyes narrowed.
“I’ll be fine,” I murmured. “It’s my dad, Enzo.”
He sighed and nodded before backing away.
“You bring her back just the way you’re taking her,” Cole said. “If she comes back with anything less than a smile on her face, I’ll kick your fucking ass.”
My dad scoffed. “I know how to parent.”
“Could have fooled me,” Cole shot back.
“Have a good day, Rosie,” Fox said, stepping up to me and blocking Cole from saying another word. Fox kissed me tenderly before backing away. “John, call me if you need anything.”
“Of course, Fox.” He walked to the door.
I darted forward and kissed Ethan, who had been silent the entire time.
“Be careful, sweetheart. It’s weird that he’s here,” Ethan murmured.
“It’ll be OK.” I squeezed his hand before going to Cole.
“I don’t like this. Do you have your phone and jewelry?” Cole asked softly, cradling my face.
I nodded. “Yes. You’ll be able to reach me. Be good today.”
He grunted and kissed me before I went to Enzo, who didn’t say a word. He gave me a kiss, and I backed away, taking in the concern on his handsome face.
“He misses you,” Fox said as I went and hugged him. “Have fun. You deserve to have a good day with him.”
“Thanks, Foxy.” I squeezed him tightly. “I love you.”
“Love you too.”
I released him and went outside to find my dad already in his car. I slid into the passenger seat and noted Enzo watching from the window like he always did. I gave him a wave as my dad started the car.
We pulled onto the street, a car pulling out behind us.
Dad sighed.
“I guess I shouldn’t be upset your fiancé is looking out for you with protection,” Dad muttered. “But I also hate that you need it.”
“He means well,” I said.
We were quiet for a long time as Dad drove us into the city.
“Did Mom come?” I finally asked.
“No. She was meeting with her gardening club.”
I nodded. Mom loved her garden.
“So just us?”
He nodded and parked the car in front of a music store minutes later. I looked up at the building, then at him.
“What are we doing here?”
“I booked us some time here for the day,” he said.
“What?” I crinkled my brows at him.
“It occurred to me that you and I have never made music together. I figured we’d spend the day doing that.”
“Dad… really?” My eyes burned with unshed tears. He’d never shown interest in music, but I’d learned that he’d had his own band and made music before he married, and that he struggled and didn’t want that life for me.
“Yeah.” He gave me a sad smile. “Come on.”
I eagerly got out and followed him inside. He checked us in, and we were led to a room filled with instruments, a small stage, and a recording booth.
“Wow. I didn’t know they did this here,” I said, looking around.
“Yeah. I used to come here when I was at Mayfair,” he said.
I looked at him, confused. “What? You graduated from Wayne State.”
He nodded. “I did, but I transferred in. I spent three years at Mayfair before returning to Michigan and graduating.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I frowned at him. I had no idea he’d gone to Mayfair. He had never once mentioned it.
“I have a lot to tell you today. Let’s make some music first, though, OK? Then we’ll talk.”
I nodded, not knowing what else to say. Instead, I picked up a guitar and sat, strumming it softly. He sat beside me with a guitar in hand and joined in seamlessly.
He was full of surprises, it seemed.
And that terrified me.
We spent all day making music. I had no idea how talented my dad was. He taught me a few new singing techniques that even Anson didn’t seem to know. Or at least I assumed he didn’t know since he’d never mentioned them to me.
We recorded a song together that we spent the day writing. Happiness swept through me. He hadn’t made any snide remarks about the guys and genuinely seemed happy to be spending time with me.
After dinner, we got back into the car, Enzo’s men behind us, and drove back to the house. We pulled in, and he cut the engine.
“Dad, today has been great. Thank you for coming.”
He gave me a sad smile. “Of course, pumpkin. It was a good day.”
“Are you going to come in? We have an extra room. It’s a little late to drive back to Detroit tonight—”
“We need to talk,” he said thickly.
I swallowed hard and stared at him. “OK. What’s wrong?”
He sighed and looked out the window. “You remind me of your mother,” he finally whispered.
I said nothing to his strange words.
“Damnit,” he muttered, wiping at his eyes.
“Dad? You’re scaring me. I-Is Mom OK?”
He shook his head. “Mom is… fine.” He breathed out. “I never thought I’d have to have this conversation with you. This life, what you’re doing, I-I never thought we’d have to go through it.” He paused, and I let him gather himself, my heart banging quickly.
“Rosalie, pumpkin, I met your mom at Mayfair. Your r-real mom.”
“My… real mom?” I crinkled my brows, my heart thrumming harder.
He closed his eyes briefly before continuing. “Marcy isn’t your real mom. I met her when you were nearing your second birthday. She’d lost a baby. I had one. We got along exceptionally well. It made sense. We made sense.”
I swallowed. “M-Mom isn’t my mom?”
“No, honey. She’s not. I’m sorry.”
“Where is my real mom? Why was this kept from me? I don’t understand…”