Josiah

Chicago, Illinois

 

“Good morning, Mr. Rose. It’s good to see you today. I was worried about you for a second.”

A slow smile spread across my face, and I pulled my hands up, mimicking my brother’s infamous stance when inside the boxing ring. Playfully, I swung at the air as if I was tapping a speed bag. My boss Jim Monroe was cracking jokes early this morning because I never missed a day until recently when my brothers announced they were having a double wedding and celebrating their bachelor parties in Montego Bay.

“You know if it had been under any other circumstances I would’ve been around.”

Jim nodded. “I know. Even if you were paralyzed from the waist down, you’d roll your wheelchair in, ready to make a sale.”

We both chuckled at the image of me wheeling in for a day’s work. I’ve been employed at Infiniti Dealership for six years now. Some of the other salesmen didn’t understand why I made an effort to come to work every day. They would put up the argument that “If my daddy were rich, I would be living the life.” But when you know better, you do better. My father is Christopher Lee Rose, retired business mogul and financial guru. His first business Rose Bank and Trust Credit Union made its first million in three months of its opening. The institution was now worth over five hundred fifty million dollars and run by my brother Jonas.

Of course, although my father had retired, he kept his hands in some trade or business deal. As recently as the beginning of last year my father purchased Gemz, a chewing gum corporation founded in 1972 that had grown to become one of Chicago’s most popular chewing gums on the market. Unfortunately, the company began to fold under economic pressure, and two years ago, Gemz was set to go into bankruptcy. But leave it to my father to swoop in, secure the company, give it a face lift, and save jobs in the process. Odd for someone who’s supposed to be retired. At the beginning of the year, Gemz was ranked in Fortune’s 100 Fastest-Growing Companies.

I understood why my co-workers would be perplexed with me working a nine-to-five when I could go work for my father. But I was bred a different way. If I decided to pull weight at Gemz, it would be at the head of the table beside my father as President and COO. Then I could have a solid hand in the advancement of the company while simultaneously running my dealership. If my mentality was anything like that of Christopher Lee Rose, then building a company from scratch, without the help of my father, but with the same tenacity he had with Rose Bank and Trust Credit Union would be the road I’d like to take first, which was why I continued to work for Infiniti. My plans were simple. At least they were to me. Right now, I’d saved enough money to open my dealership, but that didn’t mean I planned to jump out into shark-infested waters. No. I’d watch, grow and wait until the perfect time for me to make my dreams a reality, and only then would I toss my hat in the ring. I know what you’re thinking. I’m a Rose; I didn’t need to do any of that to be successful. I could merely use my name. Aah, but again, I was a different type of breed.

And although Daddy was rich, and I had a platinum black card at my disposal, there was nothing like building your own and maintaining a legacy.

I’d been back from Montego Bay for a few days when I came down with the flu. Somehow, I managed to let it sneak up on me. Never in my life had I had a problem with the bug, and getting shots wasn’t something I cared to do. Besides that, it was summer time, so I was uncertain if it was the frigid waters from the blue hole or the disarranged mixture of seasons that had plagued me with the viral infection.

“I don’t know how you expect to make hand-to-hand sales with you barking all over our customers,” Jim said. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I don’t want to catch that either.”

Jim Monroe was an extraordinarily tall person. There weren’t many people who could hit Jim’s height of 7 feet 2 inches. I was 6’4 myself, and looking up at Jim was a daily thing that never bothered me. Until today. My nose ran, and I pulled a tissue from my black Kenneth Cole pants pocket and blew into the napkin.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about right there. You’ve gotta go. I’ll still pay you for the day. Just go home, please,” Jim urged.

He held up his hands as if to fend off the virus he was sure was airborne by now and looking for a healthy home to lay its burden on. The sound of a spray can echoed, pulling Jim’s and my attention to the open door. Larry Benefield held a Lysol disinfectant can, moving his hand wildly as he sprayed continuously.

I narrowed my eyes. “It’s not that serious. I’ve managed it thus far, haven’t I?”

“Yeah, you’ve managed it,” Larry agreed. “The problem is once you get over it, it is sure to move on to one of us, and I’ve got kids to feed. There’s no way I can afford to get sick.”

“Larry,” I said calmly, “I haven’t been around you.”

“Viruses don’t discriminate.”

Jim nodded in agreement.

“The last thing I need is everyone at the dealership catching the flu.”

“But I’m your best salesman,” I reminded him.

“Yes, but if half of the staff, or worse, all the staff are absent because of the flu, I’d be in serious trouble. Go home. That’s not an option.”

“You’re joking,” I said.

“I’m afraid I’m not, dear old friend.”

Jim reached out to pad me on the shoulder but thought better of it and pulled his hand back.

“Take the week off. You’ve got sick time available. I’ll put it in for you so you’ll still get paid.”

“But, Boss, my bonuses.”

“The sooner you get better, the sooner you can come back. You’ll be okay. I’m sure your savings account is about to burst open with that rich daddy of yours.”

Larry snickered, and I turned to glare at him. With no words to offer, I did -an about face and took my leave through the showroom. Outside, I hit the alarm on my Infiniti Q70L. Jumping in, I pushed out a code and hit the startup button, dropping the keys into the middle console.

“Back so soon?”

The electronic voice system was a gift from my father. Surprisingly, it was pre-installed before being shipped to me. The electronic voice system was designed to be a helpful navigation mate along with a couple of other silly features, like noticing I’d only been gone a short while before returning. I’d named it after a past girlfriend who liked to boss me around and crowd me with questions of my whereabouts the full two months I could stand dating her.

“Yes, going home, Clarissa.”

The frustration in my voice was apparent. I put the car in drive and pulled onto Frazier Boulevard. Clarissa was also wired to the Bluetooth in my car, and she informed me of incoming calls. The call would then be connected to the subwoofers if I decided to answer.

“You have an incoming call from Samantha Lean,” Clarissa informed.

“Answer it,” I said.

Samantha Lean was my father’s assistant at Gemz. She didn’t call unless there was some business meeting or event he wanted me to attend. As with most fathers mine wanted me to take an interest in his company.

“Ms. Leans,” I said.

“Hello, Josiah, how are you today?”

“Not so good actually. I’ve managed to catch the flu of all things.”

There was a light snicker from the other end of the phone.

“Oh, you poor thing, summertime colds are the worst,” she teased.

“We can both agree there.”

“I have something important to go over with you and would like to know if you could meet me today at 4 o’clock?”

I looked at the time on the dashboard: 9:52 a.m.

“You can meet me now if you like. I’m free all day. I was sent home early because of this virus. It seems no one at the dealership wants to catch it.”

“Oh, so sorry to hear that, but good for us. Meet me at the office downtown in thirty minutes.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

The call dropped, and I spoke to Clarissa. “Pandora.”

“Playlist?” Clarissa asked.

“Any.”

The R&B sounds of “Adorn” by Miguel pumped through the speakers. It wouldn’t take me thirty minutes to get to the downtown office, so I made a pit stop to grab a bite to eat at Panera Bread. I steered the Infiniti into a parking spot away from other cars so no one could accidentally ding or scrap my doors while pulling in or out of a spot next to mine. Saw it happen a million times. I pulled hand sanitizer from my glove compartment and applied the liquid to my hands. After exiting, I entered a code that left the car running but locked the doors. Inside the restaurant, I stood behind a stocky Caucasian man who kept turning around to look over his shoulder.

“Can I help you with something?” I asked.

The man glanced back to me before turning back around, leaving my question lingering in midair. After the man ordered, I stepped forward and placed my order.

“I’ll have the all-natural Sonoma chicken stew in a bread bowl, please.”

“Great choice,” the cashier gleefully stated.

She entered the order and gave me my total. After paying, I stepped to the pick-up line and waited. The man who stood staring before looked back at me again. His eyes lowered as he squinted.

“You wouldn’t happen to be one of those Rose brothers, would you?” he finally asked.

I was tempted to discourage him and tell him no, he was mistaken. But I was never one for airing false claims.

“I am, how are you, sir?” I held out my hand, and we shook.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. Are you the baby boy? Wow, I never thought I’d be standing in line with a Rose.”

I frowned. “I assure you, we are no different than anyone else, no matter what you heard about us from others. And yes, I’m the youngest male. I do have three younger sisters.”

The man chuckled. “Yes, I’ve seen them too! Gorgeous they are.” I raised a brow, and the man nervously shuffled into his next words. “Hey, I’m Fred, and I’ll have to disagree with your last statement about being no different than anyone else, but it’s refreshing to know you’re humble.”

My frown increased. “Believe me, we are all just the same as you. A hardworking family trying to live the American Dream.”

Humor trod across Fred’s face. “Right.”

Our orders were ready at the same time, and we both moved forward to accept them. We strolled to the door, and I held it open for Fred and the older lady standing next to him.

“Oh,” Fred said, almost as an afterthought. “This is Shannon, my wife. Shannon, this is one of those Rose brothers.”

“Josiah,” I offered.

Shannon’s crinkled skin reddened as she blushed.

“It’s a good thing he wasn’t young in my day or Fred, Josiah would’ve given you a run for your money.”

I smiled, and Fred scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure Josiah dates only supermodels. Not that you couldn’t have pulled it off,” Fred retracted at Shannon’s glare. Fred cleared his throat. “Anyway,” he turned back to me, “we should get going. Have a good day, Josiah.”

I nodded as they walked through the door.

“Looks like you’ve got admirers.”

I turned to the sultry voice to find a woman exiting Panera Bread. Surprised by the height on her, my eyes took in her full-length. Although she wore heels, I had the feeling they weren’t the reason her height had been boosted to almost eye level with me. Quickly, I held out my hand and introduced myself.

“Josiah Alexander Rose.”

She smiled. “Mmm, I know who you are, Josiah.”

I arched an inquisitive brow.

“Everyone knows who you are.”

“Comes with the territory, I suppose,” I said.

“Certainly,” she responded. “I’m Tara Clemmons.”

Tara pulled out a business card and offered it to me. Being approached by women wasn’t new to me. What was unfamiliar was the hesitation I felt upon taking Tara’s business card. A half a second passed when Santana’s face flashed through my mind. Awkwardly, I found myself comparing Tara to Santana. To be frank, there was no comparison.

The first time I laid eyes on Santana, I’d taken a flight from Chicago to Houston at my brother Julian’s request. At the time, there had been some break-ins in the neighborhood of a friend’s, and Julian wanted me to keep an eye on Santana while he was out of the country.

Santana’s look was innocent; like that of a sweet teacher’s assistant in her gray knee-length corduroy skirt. My eyes rode her, inch by inch, over the creme button blouse, lingering around the suspenders that stretched across her nipples. The longer I held that position, the harder they became as I could see them protruding through the thin fabric. By the time I made it to her neck my tongue had reflexed and slid across my lips. 

The brown skin that covered Santana appeared smooth and flawless. Her top lip was slightly smaller than her bottom. A nose sleek with the perfect bridge brought me to her eyes. Damn those eyes. 

Dark brown and fierce like that of a feline. Those beautiful orbs held a fire inside that connected with me almost instantly. Santana’s proximity had affected my senses, giving me vibes of devotion and zealous allegiance. She was a beauty like no other, the type to make you stay around for all time. It was a blessing and a curse. Blessing me because if I believed in fate, I would’ve thought I'd discovered what most people never found in a lifetime.

My other half, in an instant it could’ve been her. But the joy didn't last because the cursing of it all was, I didn’t believe. I was a man who created his own destiny, and the absurdity that one woman could rock my world was nonsensical. In fact, at present, I wasn’t interested in anyone or anything that remotely suggested it. So why was the soul-stirring emotion that I felt raging inside of me? I should've backed out and disappeared without a greeting. I could’ve told my brother I’d send someone in my place. But that fire in her eyes encouraged me to stay. Then she took a step forward and held out her hand.

"Hello, I'm Santana."

Her throaty voice pulled me closer as my hand connected with hers for a shake.

“Josiah,” I said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Josiah. That’s a lovely name you have there.”

My eyes followed the movement of her lips.

“And yours makes me want to pull out a guitar and sing a soft melody, but I’d be too afraid to scare you away.”

A smile rushed to her lips, and the laughter that seeped through tingled my ears and hardened my shaft. I smiled, and with the primal way I was feeling, I was positive it was a wolfish one. That night I took Santana out to dinner and asked her about the break-in. The details she gave made the fine hair against my skin stand up on edge. Somehow, I’d managed to spend an entire two weeks with Santana without coming close to her bed. And well, that’s just not my M. O. Now here I was standing in front of a beautiful woman with thoughts of Santana laying heavy on my mind.

I chuckled to myself and pulled my focus back to Tara.

“Thank you, Tara.” I inserted the business card into my suit jacket pocket. “You have a good day.”

My exit felt awkward, almost like a rejection. Giving Tara no idea of if or when I would call. Also, not like me. Maybe it was the flu that had me feeling strange. Regardless, sooner rather than later, I’d find out.