He never wrote back and it’s been days. I expected something, anything. But I got nothing. I’ve been staying at Casey’s, our friendship is on the mend, and even her fiancé has warmed up to me. He was the one that gave me Black’s number, but not to use it excessively, just to say what I needed and then I should delete it.
Some days are hard, so much harder than others. Some days I feel the need, the need to sell everything I own and buy what I need. The hit, the high.
I was hired and am now working at the local ice cream shop. It’s simple, nothing drastic, but it’s helping keep me distracted until I can achieve what I need to.
Casey has also spoken to my mother. She said that she wants to see me and that I should go and see her. I don’t know if I can. I need to feel better about myself first by trying to get my body and health back. I’m still way too skinny, too unhealthy. Though thanks to all Casey’s and Sax’s cooking so far all that’s changing. I can feel the clothes that I came with are fitting a little tighter, the dress now hugging instead of hanging on me. Casey had a few of my old clothes which she gave me. They’re still too big, but slowly I will get back into them.
I have to start work in an hour, so I decide to leave now. I don’t want to burden anyone, so I choose to catch a bus and walk the rest of the way. It’s not too far from Casey’s and is within walking distance. Once I get off the bus, it’s about a fifteen-minute walk to the shop. I stop along the way, admiring clothes in the boutique stores when my phone beeps. I look down and see that it’s my mother asking to see me. She’s sent that same message twice already and I still haven’t responded.
A hand lands on me, my foot misses its next step and I almost fall forward into hard and lean muscle. With my hands now on his abs, my nails almost digging in, I hear a sharp intake like I’m hurting him. I look up, and the man I see makes me gasp.
“Black?” I whisper, his face looks stricken and pained. He looks down and I notice my hands still on him, touching him, so I quickly remove them and his body relaxes instantly.
Was me touching him that bad?
“Rose,” he says, stepping back so we aren’t so close together anymore.
“I messaged you,” I say, not knowing what else to talk about.
“I know.” My head shoots up to stare at his face, sunnies covering over his eyes.
“You got it?” I ask in disbelief. I look at him. I always seem to be lost in his appeal. Appeal I’m sure he doesn’t even know he possesses. Always dressed the same, though, a black suit, a silver watch, white shirt, and black boots. So mouth-wateringly gorgeous.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you write back?”
“I don’t deal with phones, they’re for business purposes only,” he says, like that’s the only answer I will get.
“Okay…” I mutter, looking behind him. I need to continue walking so I won’t be late.
“You working?” he asks, finally looking at me, noticing the outfit I have on. It’s a pinstriped skirt and blouse top in red and white.
“Yes, and I can’t be late for my second shift,” I say, stepping to the side to go around him.
“I’ll walk you then.” I start walking, Black keeping up beside me.
“You’re very full on,” I say, more to myself than him.
“How so?” I look to him, his eyes straight ahead. I can feel that he’s well aware of my stare though, like he knows it’s there. Though he chooses not to acknowledge it.
“You’re different, mysterious, dangerous, but kind.” I list the things I already know about him.
“I’m anything but kind, Rose.” I stop and turn to face him. He goes to keep on walking, but notices I’ve stopped and faces me.
“You are. Why would you think otherwise?”
He leans in close, so close his breath is on my ear before he talks, “You would hide and wish you’d never met me if you knew the truth. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?” He stands up tall and continues to walk and I run to catch up with him. “It’s best if you don’t contact me again,” he says, stopping outside the shop where I work. I give him a puzzled look. Like that will happen. He’s somehow stuck in my head, like a lion trapped in a cage just waiting for its escape.
“Okay,” I mutter, walking into the shop, trying my hardest not to look back.
My shift is almost over. I’m working with a teenager, and he has more experience than me, which kind of makes me sad. Luckily he’s nice and helps me when I have no idea what I’m doing. A ding chimes, letting us know that customers have just walked into the store. I move to make my way out the front and just as I do I hear his voice, laughing loudly. I stop, looking around painfully for Brett. He’s sitting on a stool, playing a game on his phone. I wave to him, hoping he’ll look up. I don’t want to yell out. I’m sure he’d recognize my voice if I speak.
Roger sings out hello from the front. Brett looks up, searching around for me. When he spots me, I point and mouth for Brett to serve him. He gives me an odd look, looks back to me then to the front again. I place my hands in a begging position and he finally stands and serves Roger. I stand there, listening to what he says, how sweetly he talks to his new girlfriend, and knowing it’s all lies.
I cringe when he calls her baby, and I tremor when I hear him tell her he loves her. I want to choke when he kisses her. It’s not from affection or jealousy—it’s pure hatred that I have for this man now, nothing but hate.
I sit there until they leave, I stay there even when Brett comes back, giving me a confused look. “You don’t want to serve Mr. Roger?” he asks, using his first name. This time it’s my turn to give him an odd look.
“You know Roger?” I ask, confused now.
“Yes, he’s a regular. Comes in nearly every weekend.” I groan as my hands fly to my face. Just my luck. “Look, your shift is almost over. Why don’t you just head off and I will close up?” I thank him and make my way out, noticing Casey waiting for me in her car out the front. She smiles and waves me over.
“Did he see you?” These are the first words that leave her mouth. Of course she saw him.
“No.” I shake my head back and forth.
“Well, I came to get you because we have a dinner guest,” she pipes up, starting the car and driving.
“Who?” I ask her.
“The man you said saved you… Black.”