Rome

I know before I even walk into my own office, I’m in for a hell of a razzing from Roxie about slipping out on the client last night. The fact I’m the owner of Perfect Gentlemen and her boss doesn’t mean squat where Roxie is concerned. If she wants to razz me or chew me out, she will, and I’ll let her. She was my first friend in LA all those years ago, and to this day, remains one of my closest friends.

Time to face the music; there’s only so many sets you can do at the gym and coffees you could drink before it became time to just man the fuck up and face her. I deserve everything coming my way. If it had been one of my guys…

“Morning, Rome,” she calls as I walk through the door and sit down at my desk. “Or is it good afternoon?”

“I didn’t realize I was punching a clock.”

“You’re not. You’re just always in the office before ten unless you’re on an assignment, and we both know that’s an absolute rarity these days.” She doesn’t fail to give me a knowing look with raised eyebrows. Right, so it’s going to be the full treatment.

I push my chair back, tilt backward, and plop my feet up on the edge of the desk. “Okay, Rox. I know you’re dying to say it…so let’s get it over so I can move on and figure this shit out.”

She snorts with mocking laughter and rolls her eyes. “Told you so, Rome. You love her.”

I love her?

Is that right?

Is love the reason why I had absolutely no desire to fuck my client last night, even if it had been totally business? No, it’s much more. Not being able to will my body to do it was one thing. The guilt I feel at even thinking about it is way worse.

I’ve never experienced anything like this before—ever. I just can’t get my brain to switch off the awful feeling I was doing something wrong and illicit. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.

“Are you going to answer me?” Roxie has become impatient with my indecision and stalling.

“I don’t know.” A non-committal no-nothing answer, but I had to open the proceedings with something.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” she shrieks, her voice rising at least an octave. “What’s there to know? Love’s about a feeling, a need, a desire to be with someone.”

I mentally tick those symptoms off in my mind as her voice cuts into me. Yep, I have all of them. The last time I’ve come anywhere close to feeling like this was in my early twenties with Annalise, and even then, what I felt hadn’t been as intense as this.

“Love.” The word slips from my lips, feeling totally foreign.

“Yep, Rome. It’s the crazy funny feeling you’re experiencing right now. That’s the reason your junk wasn’t interested in performing last night.”

“My junk had nothing to do with it,” I snap. “There’s nothing wrong with my junk. It just seems he’s developed a rather discerning set of tastes.”

Roxie throws her head back and laughs cynically. “Your cock has developed a taste for pussy from down under, is what has happened.”

“Don’t refer to Carlene as pussy. She’s a lady, something you often forget you should be.”

For an instant, she looks surprised, then bursts out laughing once again. “You know damned well I can be a lady when I need to be. It’s just far more fun not to be most of the time.”

I blow out a sigh. There’s no winning with Roxie.

My phone beeps indicating a new message, and I pull it from my pocket. The interruption, a welcome distraction from this conversation.

It’s from Carlene.

My heart suddenly starts beating harder, and I get an anxious feeling in my gut.

Quickly, my eyes scan the message. All business and straight to the point. Exactly as I’d expect from Carlene. She’s riled up about me returning the money. Any other woman would have jumped at the chance to put the money toward something else. More than likely, a hefty new wardrobe—not Carlene. Straight down the middle is how she wants to play it. Totally fair.

As much as I appreciate her respect for the original agreement and not wanting me to be out-of-pocket… ”Damned woman,” I mutter under my breath as I read the text again.

She misses me.

I can only guess at what it took for her to type those three words. Carlene isn’t the type to give in to emotion or need easily. I mean something to her. But she’s gone even further.

Can’t seem to stop thinking about you.

For Carlene, those words were the equivalent of a heart felt declaration of love.

“Let me guess, a text letting you know she’s not happy about you trying to repay the money.” I manage a curt nod rather than answer. Roxie is on a tear and will keep going until she’s finished or the audience decides they’ve had enough. Given the audience is me, and she means what she does to me, I keep my ass planted in the chair and listen. All jokes aside, I value her opinion, and she is my closest friend.

Over the last ten years, she’s never steered me wrong with advice. Roxie might not have a fancy college education, but what she has is way more valuable—street smarts, experience, and common sense. In the world I live in, those three assets trump book learning every time.

“A woman who wants to pay her own way in this town? Who’d have thought? How novel.” She tosses the sarcasm around like a clown juggles balls.

“Roxie!” I growl. I might be letting her have her say, doesn’t mean I have to concede every point and take it all lying down. Apparently, I am the boss, and I do sign the checks, although we both know better.

In true scrapper Roxie style, she doesn’t even pause. Instead, she puts the tip of her index finger to her lips. The color of her nails and lipstick are perfectly matched—blood red. Her eyes focus skyward in an exaggerated thinking gesture. “Oh, that’s right, she’s not from around here. She lives seven thousand miles that way.” Her hand points towards the east not the west, but I don’t have the heart to point out the minor geographical booboo to her. Her meaning is plain and simple. The minor issue of whether Australia is on the opposite side of the Atlantic or the Pacific is here nor there for this discussion.

“That must be the reason, because fuck knows, I do not know any other woman from these parts to feel like that about things here. I also haven’t known a woman to turn down thousands of dollars, particularly the rich ones. But none of this matters. You’re different, Rome. Something happened in those two weeks you were gone.”

Her eyes soften and change to something warm. “You found something more than all this.” She whips her hand around the office. “More than me—I missed my chance, Rome. Don’t make the same mistake. This life should have an expiration date, and I think you’ve reached yours. You can’t play the game forever.”

I went to speak, but she holds her hand up to silence me.

“I taught you the rules of the game, Rome, and you’ve diligently abided by them—it’s why you’ve been so successful. But the game is a fickle mistress, and to survive, you can only be true to her. Now you’ve gone and given your heart to another. There’s no going back. You’ve broken the rules, and that means you’re out of the game.”

She’s talking cryptic crazy shit.

“What the devil are you rambling about, Rox?”

Her eyes are solemn and full of pain, when they meet mine.

“I understand the rules, Rome. I was where you are right now. I thought I could keep playing the game when my heart belonged to someone else. I was so wrong. Eventually, it catches up with us all. You’re either in or out, and you’re out. I’ve got the regrets to know I made a mistake by trying to juggle both. I should have jumped and taken the chance I had. Regardless how it may seem, there is another life outside of this.”

Roxie is never one to normally look back, only forward. To see her like this strikes something deep in me. The winsome look in her eyes is unmistakable, as she disappears to a time in her head that obviously meant something very special to her.

Hope flares in my chest before reality rears its ugly head once more.

“She thinks what we had wasn’t real.”

Roxie nods. “Understandable, it’s also smart. She didn’t get dazzled by the whole experience—by you. She has her feet firmly on the ground. I like her already. You need to convince her otherwise, Rome.”

Suddenly, I feel defensive. “I tried to tell her…besides, you don’t even know her.”

“Phftt. I don’t need to know her. I know you. Your specialty is women. After ten years, I seriously doubt there’s a woman you can’t handle. If this Carlene managed to get to you, under your skin, then she must be different. The real deal for you.”

Must be different. Her words clang around in my head. Taunting me, penetrating the façade I’ve worked so hard to keep in place for the last ten years.

“She stopped a tractor and revived a man with CPR…” God, she was amazing then. Her strength, her smarts, her cool head.

“What are you talking about?”

I look up from my daze and realize Roxie doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about. I quickly fill her in about our detour into Center Valley.

“Wow…that’s fucking impressive. Girl has a cool head in a crisis.”

“She does but she’s so much more.”

Roxie gives me an exasperated look. “No shit! She wouldn’t have you so wrapped up if she was run of the mill.”

I ignore her sarcastic teasing. “She kept saying to leave it in the moment, and I…”

“You looked after the wishes of the client rather than your needs as a man.” It is as if Roxie is reading my mind. “I made that mistake. He kept telling me he wanted more. I was tempted, but I was scared.”

I let out a sigh. “That, I can understand.”

Roxie taps a paperclip on the desk lightly. “You’re not that broken guy I met in a busted ass diner ten years ago. You’re successful. You’ve got a solid business. You can afford to do something for you. Something which makes you happy. Because, let me tell you, hot shot, in a few years’ time, if you keep trying to play the game, you’ll be even more jaded and wondering what could have been. If it doesn’t work out with her, no reason you can’t come back as long as your heart’s back in the game.”

She’s right. I have been getting very jaded with the life. Therein lies the reason I was out of the game for the six months prior to Carlene.

I stare out the window for a bit, wondering if I can really do it. Could I go to her? Then what? I doubt she’ll come back here.

“Stop thinking, Rome. There’s nothing to think about until you know if there’s something with her or not,” she insists.

“But, the business…”

“Will be fine. I’ll be here.” She shrugs, like it’s no big deal keeping this place running. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. Anton can keep helping me out. His knee is still shit. We’ve got plenty of clients and plenty of talent. I’ll just keep banking the coin, and you can enjoy life.”

I burst out laughing. “When you put it like that, it’s sounds like I’m completely superfluous to this whole gig.”

She gives me a saucy wink. “You said it, not me. I don’t mind making the decisions. At least things get done my way. The right way.”

I keep laughing. Truth is, Roxie was a Godsend when I met her but particularly since I decided to expand the business a couple of years into things, and we both know it. She’d been ready to have a change of pace, or rather, she’d been keen to give up turning tricks. Now, she just vets the guys here for pure fun.

“Okay, I get it. I’m not needed.”

Rox just smiles. “Rome, honey, I’ll always need you in my life. I just don’t need you here to do this. I want you to be happy, and I have a feeling she makes you happy. Give it a go.”

I rise from the chair and grab my phone. I head for the door and give her shoulder a squeeze on the way past.

“Good talk, Rox.”

“Always, handsome. Get the girl.”

“If only it was that simple!”

“Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy for the ultimate Perfect Gentleman—Rome.”

I’m glad she has such confidence in me. I’m not at all sure I can pull this off, but I’m going to give it a go.

Carlene

“Hello,” I absently answer, a little annoyed someone is breaking my concentration. I feel like I’m about to uncover a rare gem in my research. I’m waiting for that ahh haa moment. The one where the lightbulb flashes and you just know you have the answer.

“Oz?”

I nearly drop the phone in shock. I’d know his smooth, deep voice anywhere. Every single nerve I have jumps to immediate attention, as if waiting to be petted.

“Rome?”

“Yeah, baby, it’s me. How’s things?” I can hear the little hint of appreciation at my obvious shock of him calling.

“I didn’t expect to hear from you.” My mouth is blabbing, and my mind hasn’t even made a conscious thought.

“I figured. I waited and waited, hoping you’d call. Then nothing. Your text prompted me. I hope you don’t mind me calling…” He trails off, but I know he wants to say more, so I wait, all the while attempting to get over my shock of hearing his voice again. “I couldn’t wait anymore, Carlene. I need to talk to you.”

The way he said the word need has chills zapping up and down my body that bloom into little explosions of fiery need for the man.

“Oh. It’s so good to hear your voice,” I manage to stammer, sounding far more like some crazy fan-girl than a grown woman.

His reply is a deep chuckle with a hint of an amused edge to it, or am I mistaken.

“Relax, it’s me. You don’t have anything to be nervous about, beautiful.”

Every elicit memory of our time together surges through my head at once. The hot thoughts in my mind are matched only with the heat spreading over my body, and the man is an ocean away.

“That’s kind of what has me on edge,” I admit.

There’s that sexy chuckle again. “Are you thinking about our time together? Because I know I’ve replayed every single moment through my head more than I ever thought possible.”

He’d been thinking about me!

About us.

My mouth is thick, and my stomach is fluttering with butterflies. I’m stunned at the extent to which a few words from him could send me into a veritable melt down.

“I can’t and won’t take your money, Rome. I’m returning it.”

Once again, the words come out of nowhere.

There’s more laughter at my ear.

“I knew you’d say that, but I’m not taking your money, Oz.”

“But—”

“No buts, Carlene. What we have wasn’t work. It is so much more. It’s special to me, and if I’m not wrong, it’s special to you.” His voice is firm and commanding. The tone alone sends another wave of needy prickles over my skin before settling in my core.

I say nothing as I take a moment for his words to sink in and the delicious chills to subside to a point my brain can function to some degree. Our time together was special to him.

“Yes,” I somehow manage to respond in more of a breathy rasp than anything else.

Was that a long sigh I hear from him?

“That’s all I need to know for now. We can work the rest out when I get there.”

“Get here! What are you talking about?”

“I’m booking a ticket now. I’ll be on the first flight I can find into Brisbane. I’ll text you the details.”

Panic swamps me as I realize he’s intending to hang up.

“Don’t go…” I manage to stammer, but it’s too late. He’s already hung up.

I take a few seconds to catch my breath.

Rome is coming here, and I have no idea how to feel about it.

How do you describe feeling totally discombobulated? Because I’m sure that’s what I’m feeling at that moment. So many different emotions all fighting for space, the effect is quite overwhelming.

When the onslaught clears enough for me to gather my thoughts, I let out a squeal of excitement. Then I try to call him back and the phone just rings or is it engaged? I can never tell from those funny beeps.

Ahhhh! I scream and tug at my hair.

Stop panicking, Carlene, I tell myself. He’s going to text you the details, and Rome always kept his promises.

My logical brain is in a desperate war with my emotions, and I fear the emotional side might just win. A little voice in my head keeps asking me. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

Probably not.

At least, I hope it is the case.