Chapter 6
DOMINIC
Who hurt you?
Rose’s question echoed in my ears on the drive home. And it drove home my conviction that the two of us couldn’t have been more different if we tried.
Rose moved like there was a light, frothy background track playing in her head at all times.
Meanwhile, the very idea of music made my skin break out in hives.
Music brought joy and solace to her. To me, it brought back memories I had spent a lifetime trying to suppress.
All my staff knew not to play any music around me. Not in my house. Not in my office.
I pulled up outside the five-storey, brick building that was perched on the highest point on Main Street - Carlisle House.
It wasn’t just a building. It was one of Maplewood’s most recognisable landmarks.
And even more than that, it was my family’s fortress.
I was ten when my father died in an infamous car crash, along with his latest mistress, and my mother’s first act of defiance when she took his seat on the board of directors of Carlisle Industries was to tear down the elegant brownstone mansion that stood here originally as a reminder of my father’s immense success and build this beautiful building that bore no sign of his presence except the discreet plaque on the side that said Carlisle.
His last name was all that was left of him.
The only reason she even kept his last name was because it gave her the clout to fight off his useless brothers, who kept trying to steal the company from under her.
The day I took over her position as the CEO of Carlisle Industries, she changed her name back to Anthea Rook, and I didn’t blame her.
Heck, I’d thrown her a party at The Orangery that night to celebrate her freedom from the burden of being a Carlisle.
Too bad I couldn’t throw off that burden as easily.
I had to run the business and my large, extended family on Dad’s side because none of them were capable of running a mile, let alone their own lives. And my mother had invested far too much in the business for me to allow her blood and tears to be wasted.
“You’ve been here before, haven’t you?” asked Trevor, as he carried Rose’s bag out of the car. She grabbed the feline Antichrist’s carrier and followed him into the building while I threw the keys at a valet who scurried around the car to slide into the driver’s seat.
“I’ve been to Anthea’s apartment many times, of course, since she and my mother were best friends. I’ve also been to Grammy Cora’s apartment a few times,” replied Rose, with a sidelong glance at me. “Not to Dominic’s, though.”
She still called my grandmother Grammy Cora.
Gran terrified everybody in Maplewood with her stern face and outspoken ways.
Everybody, except Rose, that is, who saw the brave, heartbroken woman hiding under that grouchy exterior, who had buried her husband and oldest son.
And Gran adored Rose as much as my Mom did.
I was so lucky Mom was in Florida right now, because I didn’t need the three women forming an unholy coalition right under my nose.
“Brace yourself, Rosie,” murmured Trevor. “The boss’s apartment is nothing like the other two apartments. It’s like walking into Siberia. Not through there. Bossman has a separate entrance into the building because he doesn’t like his dates to bump into his grandmother the next morning.”
“Babe, I don’t think his supermodels can survive a round with Grammy Cora. She’ll eat them alive,” said Rose, with a venomous smile at me, as she followed Trevor into the marble-floored lobby of my wing.
She wasn’t wrong.
My grandmother had an apartment on the first floor, while the duplex above hers was my mother’s.
The next two floors held the gym, sauna, pool, and solarium, and the floor above that had two guest apartments.
Meanwhile, the penthouse was all mine, accessed through a separate entrance and a private elevator that led into my apartment.
I liked my privacy. And I liked not having to listen to my grandmother ranting about the brainless twits I liked to date. Her words, not mine.
Rose looked taken aback as the doors to my private elevator opened.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as she hesitated a little.
“It’s nothing like the other elevator,” she said as she stepped in.
The elevator on the other side of the building that led to the other apartments was vintage, with polished brass doors and a plush love seat on one side for my grandmother. This one was Spartan in comparison - steel, grey, and cold. Just as I liked it.
The bell dinged, and the elevator doors slid open silently, and Trevor stepped out first.
“Ta-daaaa,” he announced, throwing his hands wide open. “Welcome to Sparta!”
Rose walked into my apartment, and my eyes were riveted on her expressive face to see what she made of my space.
The elevator opened right in my living room, a wide room with high ceilings, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a killer view of the Maplewood skyline.
The room was a mix of white and beige, and Rose studied it silently for a few moments until she turned to me with an odd expression.
“Did you decorate the house yourself?” she asked finally.
“I hired a designer,” I replied awkwardly.
She nodded and then stared in dismay at the cat carrier in her hand.
“I cannot bring my cat into your space, Dom,” she said softly. “He sheds a lot.”
I grimaced at the thought of his black fur all over my white couches and beige rugs. Not to mention the blood he’d draw, no doubt.
“I can stay in a hotel for tonight,” she said, moving to the door.
“No,” I said firmly. “I cannot protect you in a hotel if Joe tracks you down there.”
“What about Anthea’s apartment? Can’t I stay there while she’s in Florida? I’m sure she won’t mind,” said Rose desperately.
“Mom’s getting her apartment painted while she’s away. It’s only a matter of days, Rose. I’ll hire a daily cleaner to clean up the fur.”
I didn’t know what I’d do about the blood, though. I put the thought out of my mind and led her to the guest room.
“I’ll leave you to get settled. Trevor? A word,” I said, tilting my head towards the door.
He followed me out unwillingly because I was sure he wanted to stay and gossip about the miserable state of my apartment.
“I’m off the clock now, boss,” he said, heading straight for my bar. “And I have a bestie in there who needs a large bucket of margaritas.”
“What she needs is a complete overhaul of her security system, and no drinking until you’ve done what I need you to do,” I said sternly.
“Killjoy,” he muttered as he pulled out his tablet. “Tell me what you need, oh lord and master.”
“I need a burglar alarm and a ring camera installed immediately at Rose’s cottage. And by immediately, I mean yesterday. Chop, chop,” I ordered, with a snap of my fingers.
“Do you really think he’s coming back?” asked Trevor, looking serious for a change.
“Well, he clearly didn’t like getting dumped. I’m sure he wants to try and change her mind. And I will get a restraining order if I have to, but that asshole is getting nowhere near Rose,” I said firmly. “Hence the ring camera and burglar alarm.”
“On it,” replied Trevor, pulling out his phone to call the security agency we employed. “Logan will get it done in an hour, tops. Do you want me to order some dinner now that we can’t have any of Rosie’s lasagna?”
“Spaghetti and meatballs from Valencia,” I said. “She loves that.”
“And their tiramisu. What about you, boss?”
“I’ll have whatever she’s having. Make sure you tell them to top her tiramisu with roasted nuts. Will you stay for dinner?”
“I have a hot date tonight. But I’ll make sure Logan gets the job done ASAP,” promised Trevor, as he headed back to Rose’s room.