One sleepless night after my sudden burst of inspiration and I was left with a mostly finished painting and a deep, abiding urge to see Rosie. It had been two days since I saw her last and my need to set eyes on her, to take in those bright, expressive eyes and her supple body was beginning to overwhelm me.

I couldn’t show up to her place uninvited like a fucking creep, that would set our admittedly fragile relationship up in flames and I couldn’t risk losing her. Not yet. Not before I really got the chance to have her as my own.

If I couldn’t go to her and I didn’t have the strength to stay away completely, I would have to come up with some kind of compromise. Since sending her a goddamn letter was out of the question and I wasn’t about to send her some overly impersonal email or text message, my next best option was to call her. At least that way even if I couldn’t see her beautiful face, I would be able to hear her voice.

After thinking up some half-cocked excuse about missing files, I calmly dialed her number. After the phone rang a few times, my chest tightened at the thought of her not picking up. It was mid-morning Sunday, certainly not prime time. Rosie didn’t seem like the type to sleep in long hours, but maybe she was recovering from a night out. Maybe she was catching breakfast with friends.

Maybe she was laid up in bed with some asshole. I grit my teeth at the thought, my fingers tightening their grip around my phone, there was no fucking way I was going to follow that train of thought. My possessive feelings for her were too strong to even entertain the thought of her with someone else. So I wouldn’t do it, not unless I wanted to drive myself to certain insanity.

“Hello.” Rosie’s voice sounded tired.

“Hey, Rosie. Sorry for calling you on a Sunday.” I stammered out my lie, “I was just wondering if you knew where the contact files for Grayson Contemporary were? I wanted to personally get in touch with Carrie in the morning.”

All of a sudden she sounded exasperated. “Really, Dex?” she growled out my name, a light, angry sound that I couldn’t help but smile at. “You called me during the weekend. On my day off. Just to ask me about some damn file?”

I should have felt guilty, I should have stammered out an apology and hung up but I couldn’t. Not when I was in the midst of getting her so fired up.

“Isn’t that exactly what I hired you for?”

“You’re kidding me right?”

I prodded her more. “You’re my assistant, Rosie. You’re supposed to be at my goddamn beck and call.” I was obviously fucking around, but she didn’t need to know that, not yet.

“Dex…” she trailed off with a sigh, suddenly sounding even more tired than she had at the beginning of our short conversation.

That concerned me. I’d wanted to rile her up a bit, get her fiery enough to tell me off a little. I didn’t want to genuinely frustrate her and I definitely didn’t want her exhaustion to be caused by my bullshit.

“Hey, you alright, kid?”

She sighed again. “I’m fine, Dex, I’m just…” She paused. “I’m just really not in the mood to do this with you today.”

Of course she’d said things like this to me before during our little bouts of banter but her tone and the dismal cadence of her voice gave me pause.

Then I heard her sniffle.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” I was instantly angry at myself. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I was cursing myself, fearing I’d gone too far this time. I knew nothing I said was too offensive or enough to make the conversation this emotionally charged. I still couldn’t help but feel guilty that it was my prodding and smartass remarks that pushed her over the edge.

“No.” She sniffled again, her sweet voice thick with exhaustion. “It’s not you, Dex. I’m just having a really crappy couple of days.” Rosie barely got the words out before I heard her softly sobbing on the other end.

Hearing her cries and imagining her beautiful face contorted in pain and running with tears had me feeling about eight different levels of anger. I was angry at whoever or whatever caused my sweet girl such sadness, pissed off at myself for exacerbating it, and fucking furious at the thought that I wasn’t there to comfort her.

I didn’t have the time, nor the patience to deconstruct those feelings or feel sorry for myself. I needed to be with her. I needed to hold her, help her, and show her I was there.

I was grabbing my keys and making my way to my car before I could utter another word.

“I’m on my way, Rosie. Just hold tight.”

“Dex, you really don’t need to-”

“Give me ten minutes,” I cut her off before she had a chance to protest again. There was nothing that could keep me from her now. Not even her denial.

* * *

With the exception of some slightly overgrown grass, Rosie’s apartment building looked exactly as it had the last time I was there. Trying not to think about the events that took place that night, I hurriedly made my way up to the building, quickly realizing I couldn’t get in through the locked front door. Neither did I know which apartment she lived in, which meant I would have to call her again but I didn’t want to give Rosie the chance to turn me away so I needed to think of some other way to get inside.

“Who the hell are you?” A woman’s voice startled me out of my thoughts.

I turned around towards her, taking in the pretty woman with a curled lip looking at me with suspicion. “Uh…”

“If you’re trying break in, you should know that the most valuable thing in this entire shitty building is the building manager’s Persian cat.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “And that thing is already hanging on by a thread.”

“No. I uh…” I wasn’t exactly sure how to reply but I didn’t want to seem like a creep. “I need to get inside to check on my friend. Maybe you know her? Rosaline Reed.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed a bit and she pursed her red-painted lips. “What’s your name?”

“Dex Quinn, I’m her boss.”

Her eyes went wide. “The artist? Holy shit!”

The egotistical prick in me couldn’t help but soak up her admiration for a bit, I loved being recognized, but I needed to focus on the task at hand.

So I lied.

“She called me earlier and she sounded sick so I figured I would come check on her but I can’t get in the building.”

The woman smirked at me as if she saw right through my bullshit but instead of blowing me off, she moved ahead of me with her keys out, motioning for me to join her.

As we made our way up the narrow flight of stairs, I took in my surroundings. The remnants of what must have once been a beautiful home, turned into a total shithole over the years. From the leaking roof to the smell of rotting wood, it was obvious there had been no care or upkeep to the place and I hated to think of Rosie living here. Maybe I needed to rethink her salary negotiation.

“That’s her apartment right there.” The woman pointed to a black door on the far right side of the hallway. “But I live right across the hall and if I hear so much as a scuffle I’m busting that door down and beating your tight little ass.” She jabbed a finger into the middle of my chest jokingly, but I could tell she was serious.

Before the woman made her way into her apartment she turned to me,  “Oh, and tell Rosaline that Nora said she has a lot of goddamned explaining to do.”

I waited until Nora was safely tucked inside of her apartment before pounding on Rosie’s front door. “Sweetheart, it’s Dex, open up.”

“I thought I told you not to come.” Even through the thick door her sweet voice sounded awful.

I rested my forehead against the gold plated markings in front of me, “I know you didn’t think I was just going to let you cry those pretty little eyes out all alone did you?” I rapped on the door with my knuckles another three times. “Open the door, baby.”

Rosie slowly pulled the door open, revealing her sad, tear-stained face to me, her soft body immediately falling into my arms.