27. Rose
ROSE
I’m so excited to show Dante the completed kitchen. I can’t believe everything arrived on time. It all looks amazing (in my professional opinion, of course). Everything perfectly fits the vibe of Gothic academia Dante wanted.
It’s taken all day, but I’ve managed to get everything in place. I haven’t seen Dante at all today, which is weird because he generally hovers nearby when I’m around, but I’m sure he has plenty of work to keep him busy, whatever he does. Maybe he is in the elusive basement?
I could text him or call him, I guess, to see if he wants a walkthrough before I head out.
And that’s another complication. I got so lost in my work today that I haven’t found a place to stay.
I guess I could go back to that motel for one night.
I mean, what are the odds of my room being broken into a second time?
I could always drive back to the city, then get up really early and drive back tomorrow and just not tell Dante, because I’m sure he’d insist I stay here another night.
I did sleep really well last night. The bed in the guest room is so comfortable, and the lingering smell of tobacco and vanilla reminded me of Dante, and for some reason, that put me at ease.
Plus, knowing the door was locked helped too.
I don’t think Dante would’ve come into my room or anything, but after the break-in at the motel, I’ve been on edge.
But if Dante did want to come in, would I want that?
I guess I could leave the door unlocked and see what happens?
No, Ro, you do not need to cross that line.
He’s a client. A very important client that you want to be able to use as a reference for future projects.
Plus, I’m sure he isn’t even interested in me like that.
He honestly looks mad or frustrated whenever we interact.
Plus, how would he even know if I locked the door or not, and that if it’s unlocked that’s a sign?
Everyone leaves the door unlocked. I am definitely making something out of nothing because I’m not even staying here again.
Speaking of which, I better go pack up my stuff so that once I finish the kitchen walkthrough, I can leave immediately.
*click*
The sound of the front door closing breaks me out of my mental ramblings, and I look up in time to see Dante’s reaction as he walks into the finished kitchen area. His eyes widen a bit, but other than that, he doesn’t give away a reaction to how he feels about the final product of the space.
“Surprise!” I shout like an idiot. And did I just do jazz hands?
Jazz hands, Ro? “I mean, not ‘surprise,’ because obviously you knew I was working on this area. Well, clearly I’m working on all the areas because that is my job and what you hired me for, but like ‘surprise’ as in it’s done, yay!
Not that it’s surprising it’s done or anything, just that I’m excited it’s finished.
Not because I want to be done or anything but just excited to have something to show you.
” I swear I am going to find a clamp to keep my mouth closed around this man.
I have dealt with some of the wealthiest and most powerful people in New York, and I always remained calm, collected, and professional.
“It looks perfect, Rose. I knew it would.” Dante ends my babbling with a warm hand on my shoulder and doesn’t seem fazed by my ramblings.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” Dante looks amused as he quirks his eyebrow in the way I love.
“I mean, thank you.” Well, that wasn’t much better, but at least I’m not verbalizing my stream of consciousness at him like I am prone to.
“No, thank you. This came together better than I could’ve imagined. You are extremely talented, Rose.”
I don’t know if I prefer his open sincerity or his usual surliness because his praise does something to my insides… yes, those insides.
“Um, you’re welcome?” Why do I sound like I’ve never received a compliment before?
“Is that a question? You must be used to hearing how great you are at your job. I’ve seen your portfolio, and it’s impressive, which is why I hired you.”
“Compliments weren’t usually doled out at my previous firm.
The expectation was perfection. They were more prone to identify inadequacies, deviations from timelines, and general imperfections in relation to execution of my projects.
” Most of the time, these things were conjured out of thin air because god forbid I did a good job, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Well, the people at your old firm clearly didn’t deserve your talents. And likely won’t be in business much longer if that’s the type of business they run.” Dante’s tone definitely turns a bit menacing on the last part, but I’m still stunned by his words of admiration for my work.
“I appreciate that, Dante, thank you. I can’t wait for you to see how the rest of the house turns out.
It’s been a pleasure designing your home.
Would you like a walkthrough of everything, or would you prefer to peruse in private?
I was just about to head upstairs and grab my stuff before heading out. ”
“Actually, I’m glad I caught you before you left. Would you like to stay for dinner? Consider it a thank you for all the work you’ve done.”
Dinner with Dante? Alone? In my dream kitchen? Um, yes, please!
“Oh, you don’t need to do that, Dante. I appreciate the offer, but I wouldn’t want to intrude in your space. More than I already have, that is.” Am I blushing? Ugh, Ro can you not act like a real-life human for once?
“I insist. I wouldn’t want to have to christen this beautiful kitchen alone. I’m making bolognese. Nothing fancy.”
Do I stay or go? Stay or go? I am hungry, and I absolutely love bolognese, but is this weird?
And why did it sound like he wanted to do more than just cook in here?
I mean, he did insist, so I guess it wouldn’t be that weird.
But if I stay, I won’t have time to get to the motel before the office closes for the night.
So my options are to stay for dinner and drive back to the city, sleep approximately two hours before I have to get up and drive back, or decline his offer, hopefully get a room at the motel, and eat at the diner alone?
This is a real nail-biter of a decision—I mentally roll my eyes knowing which way I’m going to decide. I’m weak… I’m a weak, weak woman.
“Well? It’s just dinner, Rose. No pressure.” Dante prompts when my silence has extended to an uncomfortable length of time.
“I’ll stay on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“You let me clean up and do the dishes after dinner.”
“Deal.” Dante has a mischievous smile as he turns and starts to unpack the bags of groceries he brought in. Why do I feel like I've been played? But, in like, the best way possible?
“I’ll just go pack up my things and will be right back in case you need help like chopping or stirring or something.”
“You can do that after dinner. You can help by opening a bottle of wine to let it breathe.”
“Bo-ssy.” My tone comes out flirtier than I intend, but I don’t miss the heat in Dante’s eyes with my response.
“Wine, now, brat. I assume you know where the wine opener is? Because I don’t.”
I blink, once…twice…Did he just call me…
a brat? Do I like that? Yes, yes, I do. I move like a robot as I go over to the bar area built into a section of the kitchen to retrieve the wine opener as well as a crystal decanter specially designed for red wines.
How do I even respond to that? I guess I just did by obediently following his instructions.
This is starting to feel a lot less client/designer and a lot more gorgeous man/babbling idiot woman.
As I turn to present the gorgeous crystal decanter to Dante with the pinot noir he bought aerating inside, I almost drop the entire thing on the pristine floors.
I can’t believe my eyes as I watch Dante take out a bundle of purple nightshade and place them on the counter.
He’s opening cabinets, looking for something, clearly oblivious to my shock.
“Are those nightshades?”
“Yes, aren’t they beautiful? You wouldn’t happen to have ordered a flower vase?
” Dante responds as if nothing is amiss, still opening every cabinet until he finds where I placed a vintage amber crystal vase I sourced from one of my vendors in the city.
I envisioned it placed on his dining room table with these very flowers.
I even included those flowers in my personal sketches.
“Yes, they are very beautiful in their own unique way. They are actually my favorite. I’m shocked you would buy them, though.
Most people go for the classic rose or lily.
People usually assume roses are my favorite flower because of my name, but I actually prefer those because of how unique they are.
Did you know certain strains are poisonous?
” I don’t know why I just told him all that.
I don’t bother people with my origin story or the trauma it’s left me with, but knowing Dante picked these flowers over every other option makes me feel like we have some sort of other connection I can’t explain.
It feels like he is in my head most days, and this is just another sign of that.
“I prefer uniqueness when it comes to beautiful things. And if it has a little edge of danger, then all the better.” I don’t miss the double meaning in Dante’s response as he makes eye contact with me. “Why don’t you like roses?” Dante adds.