10. Rose
ROSE
Driving back to Dante’s house this morning, I vow to approach this project with professionalism and grace.
I have my hair in soft waves and loose tendrils around my face, covered in a light layer of makeup that gives me a natural but glowing look, in an effort to cover the dark circles under my eyes and the puffiness caused by uninvited tears.
I miss my king-size bed and down comforter.
I miss my mountain of throw pillows and soft mood lighting.
What I wouldn’t give for a long, hot bath in my oversized soaking tub surrounded by soothing candle scents and calming music after the day and night I’ve had.
Instead, I managed to take a lukewarm shower in my motel room (yes, motel, not hotel, and yes, there is a difference) and pull myself together this morning.
I haven’t always had the luxury of living in the nicest of places, but it’s been years since I’ve dreaded going home.
Not that the motel room is home, but it will be for at least a few more days, if I can last there that long.
If it wasn’t such a lengthy drive back to the city and the undoubtedly long hours I’d be working each day, I would consider commuting for the time being.
But that just isn’t realistic if I intend to get any sleep.
On top of the stress from the conversation Luca and I had at the diner and the wild goodbye that left me reeling, I spent most of the night updating the designs for Dante based on our conversation from the walkthrough.
What’s nice and a little ironic is the similarity of our design tastes.
I’m hoping that means he won’t have many changes from what I plan to show him today.
The sooner I can get everything approved and ordered, the sooner I can get back to the comfort and safety of my loft in the city.
I wouldn’t typically stick around a jobsite throughout the entire process, other than to check on deliveries and make last-minute tweaks before showing the final product to the client, but this project is different.
It’s my chance to really make a name for myself and my own company outside of the shadow of Franklin & Sons.
It’s also an opportunity to prove to myself that I am great at what I do, and that this job was earned on merit, not through some lingering sense of loyalty (or pity) from Luca.
Even though he said he didn’t recommend me, I still don’t know what to believe because how else did Dante get my information?
All I know is I need to bring my game face today when I see Luca.
I’m going to be all business with him from this point on.
With any luck, he won’t bring up the kiss from last night because I can’t fathom having that conversation, let alone having it anywhere near Dante.
I’ve already crossed the professional boundary when I leaped into Luca’s arms yesterday.
When I pull up to Dante’s house in the light of the early morning, a sense of calm takes over.
Maybe it’s the soft light from the sun peeking through the lush trees surrounding the property or the light layer of dew on the grass and landscaping around the front of the house, but I’m instantly put at ease.
That is, until I see a shirtless Dante sitting on the porch with a cup of coffee in only gray sweatpants.
Is this man allergic to wearing shirts or something?
Two days in a row, I find him topless without a care in the world.
As I put my car in Park and start to gather everything I will need to go over my proposal with Dante, I use the opportunity to take a deep breath before I have to face the chiseled man before me.
Luckily, by the time I climb out of the car and sling my bag over my shoulder, Dante has thrown on an old T-shirt, judging by the holes and thinness of the cotton fabric.
Another small miracle is that Luca’s truck isn’t in the driveway.
I’d love to get through as much as possible with Dante before Luca arrives, and then he and I can quickly go over the items I noted on the walkthrough that will need to be fixed or updated before I have any items delivered.
Speaking of deliveries, I think I’ll have to adjust my plan to have everything delivered directly to the house, given the remoteness and lack of an address.
Maybe I can find somewhere in town that will accept deliveries, and I can work something out with Dante or Luca to help with transportation.
Hopefully, Dante is willing to help so I don’t have to rely on Luca for a favor.
I get the vibe Dante likes his privacy out here, so I’m guessing he’ll be okay with the slight change in plans.
“Good morning, Dante.” I inject brightness into my tone to shake off my internal stress and exhaustion.
“Rose, nice to see you again. Please come in.” Dante opens the front door and ushers me forward with his hand on the small of my back.
I’m momentarily distracted by his touch, considering this is the first time we have had physical contact, but as I walk through the front door into the foyer, I catch a spot of paint that doesn’t seem to match the rest of the wall.
How did I miss that yesterday? I need to make sure I add that to my list for Luca to fix.
Admittedly, there isn’t much for Luca and his team to fix, but call me petty because I’ve added every teeny-tiny item I could find, especially after how Luca acted last night.
I’m going full designer hard-ass with him.
“Is everything okay, Rose?”
I don’t realize I’ve stopped to inspect the wall by the door until I feel Dante’s breath on my neck behind me.
“Oh, sorry, I just noticed an issue with the paint on this wall that I didn’t note yesterday. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything else.”
Dante seems to want to get right to business, which I can appreciate, especially after he has been very clear on his timelines for this project. He grips my elbow in his hand, and my attention immediately snaps to him.
“Rose, I feel like I need to ask you something before we move forward with our working relationship,” Dante says almost hesitantly.
I don’t know what he’s about to ask me, but the hairs on my arms rise in anticipation. How have I already screwed this up?
“Is your history with Luca going to cause issues with you dedicating your full attention to my home? I require your full focus and wouldn’t want any unnecessary distractions getting in the way of my plans,” Dante asks in his deep, rough tone and then clears his throat and slowly adds, “for my house.”
In an effort to move past this awkward conversation as quickly as possible, I say, “I actually wanted to apologize for my unprofessional reaction yesterday when I saw Luc.” I take a breath to calm my racing pulse.
“I mean Luca. We knew each other a long time ago and were friends during high school, and I haven’t seen him since, so I was caught off guard and honestly surprised by his presence.
After he and I spoke last night, I can guarantee he will not be a distraction, and we will maintain a professional working relationship moving forward.
” If I say it enough, maybe my brain and heart will start to believe it.
“Designing your home is my only priority, and I feel a unique draw to this project now that I’ve had the chance to see it.
I’d really love the opportunity to show you what I have in mind, and then if you still feel this isn’t the right fit, I’d be happy to recommend another designer.
” I hold my breath because the last thing I want to do is lose this opportunity—not just because Dante is my first client under Lusso Designs but also because of the property.
It’s like Dante was in my head when he had it built, down to the detailed crown molding and parquet floors. I wasn’t lying when I told him I feel drawn to this project. If anything, I’m downplaying my emotions.
Dante looks into my eyes for several seconds.
It’s a measure of my patience to not fill the silence with mindless babble, but I hold my posture and return his eye contact.
I haven’t had the luxury of making eye contact with him long enough to study his face, his eyes in particular.
At first, I thought they were dark green like the forest around us, but now I see flecks of brown in his left eye that add almost a softness to his usually surly stare.
His prolonged eye contact so entrances me that I almost jump when he speaks, breaking the charged silence.
“Good. I wouldn’t want anything to get in the way of this…job.”
Dante’s response feels a bit intense for the situation, like there is more he isn’t saying, but all I can do is let out the breath I have been holding and push forward.
“Thank you, Dante. I promise you won’t regret this!” I beam at him with a genuine smile, ready to move past this and finally have a chance to showcase my expertise.
“Lo faccio già,” Dante mutters under his breath.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that. Did you say something about bread?”
Dante’s eyebrow raises with confusion, and he responds, “Bread?”
“Sorry, I thought you said something about focaccia?” My cheeks heat with embarrassment because why the hell would he be talking about bread right now?
Am I having a stroke? Don’t people think about bread when they have a stroke?
Or is that toast? Ugh, this man continues to fluster me like no one else I’ve ever met.
Dante watches me without speaking, clearly waiting for more information.
And because I have lost the ability to contain my word vomit, I add, “I love focaccia. Do you bake? I can’t bake, or cook really.
I usually just order takeout. I like all kinds of food.
Do you like food? You look like you like to eat. ”
“I love to eat,” Dante responds as his lips rise on one side in what is becoming his signature smirk when I can’t seem to shut my mouth. He is clearly amused by my mindless babble, which is refreshing because most people find my rants tiresome.
Is it hot in here? Am I sweating? Would it be inappropriate to fan my armpits? I don’t even remember what we were talking about. Why does him saying he loves to eat sound like we aren’t talking about food? Ro, get your mind out of the gutter and back on track!
“Oh, are you hungry?” That is your response?
Good lord, this has to be some record of embarrassment with a single person.
“I mean, did you eat this morning? Breakfast, did you eat breakfast this morning? I only had some instant coffee at the motel because I didn’t want to face Shirley this morning, but I wasn’t really that hungry anyway. ” Shut up, shut up, shut up!
“Who is Shirley?” Dante’s head tilts to the side with a questioning crease of his brow, still with that smirk on his infuriatingly gorgeous face.
“Oh, she’s a waitress at the diner in town. We didn’t exactly hit it off last night when Luc and I grabbed dinner.”
With the mention of Luc’s name, Dante's previously playful demeanor and look of amusement are abruptly replaced with a look of what can only be described as anger mixed with a hint of jealousy. That’s weird, considering Dante seemed happy with the work Luca has done.
Luc even said Dante has been easy to work with when we talked last night.
My face suddenly drops the flush of embarrassment and is replaced by cool indifference as the memories of the rest of the conversation and the evening’s events flash back into my mind.
“How about we go over the design portfolio I’ve put together for you in the kitchen?” I suggest in an effort to move past the uncomfortable silence.
With a curt nod, Dante turns on his heel and walks toward the kitchen. I guess that is the only response I will be getting and my invitation to follow him, which I do.