“Do you like it?”
“Yes, but I don’t need it and I don’t have the room for it.”
“So, put it at my place,” he told her boldly, staring into her eyes. “It would look beautiful surrounded by the hedges on the rooftop. I’d like it there – for us.”
“What are you saying?”
“That I realized today that I need to work on making my condo more of a home,” he said simply as they stood there in the crowd.
Rose tried to hide the shock and hurt that rippled through her, laying her face against his chest. He could have taken that moment to say that he cared for her, or that their relationship was going somewhere – but instead, he claimed it was for his home.
Pulling away, Jarrett went to go talk to the man privately. She was surprised by how hard he negotiated the deal and it reminded her of how aggressive he could be. They were going to throw in free installation if Jarrett bought a larger basin for the bottom in exchange- so he did.
Jarrett had told her once before that if he wanted something, he went for it. So why was she suddenly now getting the feeling that he didn’t want her? Was he only toying with her emotions? Did he prefer the chase and once he had her heart, he was done?
10
Rose was silent much of the afternoon. She was tired, her feet hurt, and frankly – her heart hurt. Jarrett seemed to pull back after purchasing the fountain and everything else around her seemed dull or lifeless. They got to the car and he opened the door for her. As she sat down, she wondered if he realized that he was losing his latest conquest and trying to butter her up again.
“Is everything alright?”
Blinking back tears as she stared out the car window, she could almost hear concern in his voice. You’re imagining things, Rose, she thought wretchedly. Things had seemed so good, yet the man was as careless with his words as he was taking care of his home. Did she really want that heartache? She needed to be alone and to think.
“Yes, I’m just exhausted from all the walking.”
“Did you still want to go to the store with me?”
“Can it wait?” she asked acidly, and then tried to soften it. “I’m really beat Jarrett and suddenly sick to my stomach. I’d like to just go home.”
“Sure. I’ve got some work to do anyhow.”
His voice sounded flat and emotionless, a dagger straight to her heart. As he pulled into the parking garage, Rose got her keys out of her pocket.
“You aren’t coming in?” he asked bluntly.
Rose didn’t say anything. She couldn’t right now. She felt too fragile and lost. She kept replaying his words, his expression, in her mind over and over again.
“Rose, are you coming up or going home?”
“I’m going home.”
“Did I do something to make you mad?”
“Jarrett, I just don’t feel like talking about it right now.”
“So I did then?”
“Why do you think it’s got to be you? Maybe it’s me and how I feel?”
“How do you feel? Rose, look at me,” he said angrily. Rose looked over at him and saw how upset he truly was. He was trying to hold back and she could see that his control was at its limits. “Are you crying?”
“Maybe?”
“What is wrong?”
“I just think we are two different people and this isn’t going to work out.”
“You are thinking that just now?” he yelled in surprise.
“Don’t yell at me!” she snapped.
“Don’t be like this! Don’t do this to me!” Jarrett fractured, hitting the steering wheel of his car, and froze. He immediately stopped moving as Rose stared at him unflinchingly. His dark eyes turned to her and she could see it in his face. He’d messed up.
“Goodnight, Jarrett.”
“Rose, I’m sorry,” he murmured, looking lost. “I’m so sorry and I didn’t mean to yell at you.” She didn’t say a word; instead she got out of his car and he scrambled out quickly- meeting her. He tried to take her hand and she pulled away. “Rose, please.”
“Jarrett, it will never be okay to yell at me.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have but I just was so confused. One minute we were happy and the next you were suddenly mad at me.”
“I was mad at you because I don’t think you realize that I love you,” she said angrily. “You simply assume that I am there at your beck and call but I’ve got news for you: that charm you used to make me fall for you, you need to use it on the world around you before you are left a sad, lonely man.”
“You love me?” he whispered. “Rose… don’t leave mad like this. Let’s talk.”
“No. You have some things to work out in your life and it is affecting us.”
“Is this about the fountain? You can have it.”
“No, Jarrett. I think that we are simply too different and I can’t let myself be hurt when you shut off your emotions or blow up at me. I’m in love with you but you don’t realize that I’m on your side – I’m on your team. You are holding back from me. You’ve said repeatedly that you go for something full force… but what about me? Am I not worth your full effort?” Rose cried out. Hot tears were streaming down her face and he looked absolutely broken as the truth hit him.
“Rose, I wanted to go pick out furniture for the house tonight- with you, for us. I need you with me,” he explained, trying to pull her to him as a couple walked past them in the parking garage. “Please. Let’s go upstairs and talk where we can be alone.”
“I’m going home. I think we both need time to think of what we are wanting from each other and what is expected in a relationship.”
Jarrett stood there numbly and watched her pull her car out of the garage. He’d never had anyone in his life, and the one good thing was driving out of his life. He’d never felt such bitter heartbreak or loss at once. He had just picked out a ring for her yesterday and was having extra prongs set on the diamond. When he saw her face light up, he realized what he loved about her. He’d been so scared that he was jumping the gun or going too fast. He could see his future, their future, in her eyes. She looked at him like the sun rose and set on what he did… and he had hurt her unknowingly.
Walking into the condo, he walked right past the security guards that stared at him in shock. He didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone other than his Rose. Stepping on the elevator, he watched the stainless-steel doors close and saw his haggard, broken, reflection.
He’d never intended to make her cry or get mad at her. She was his everything and now she was gone. He would do his best to be the man she deserved if it meant giving up everything.
Picking up his phone, he called Mindy.
“I need your help with something,” he said quietly.
“Is everything alright, Mr. Ariet?”
“Not really. I think I have messed up badly and need you to cover for me for a day or two.”
“Mr. Ariet, are you alright?”
“Yes. Please handle tomorrow’s presentation. I will email you everything,” Jarrett said quietly and heard her incredulous gasp. He knew why too – he never let anyone in or delegated anything. All his life it had been only him and he had kept tight control over everything. It was making him miserable and he hadn’t realized it until a blonde slip of a woman stole his heart. Now, he wanted to let things go in order to be with her.
“Oh, and Mindy?” he said quickly, before the litany of questions began from his receptionist. “I think we need to re-evaluate your position there at the company. You are better than just a receptionist.”
“I’m very happy in my position, sir.”
“I know you are – but I wouldn’t be where I am without your help. Now, I need to make a few more phone calls and email you the data. You’ll do fine tomorrow.”
“Are you sure? Do you want me to call you?”
“No. I trust you.”
Jarrett ended the call and made several other phone calls before he settled in. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he fe
lt the weight of the world crashing down on him. He was not going to lose Rose. The struggle to prove he was good enough for her began now.
Rose had never cried so much in her entire life. Her mother had tried making her some mint tea and offered to horse-whip Jarrett within an inch of his life but nothing made her feel better. She felt like her whole world was falling apart and kept seeing the distant look in his eyes at that moment. There were so many times where he could have told her that he loved her, or at least was fond of her.
She wondered how long it would take to get the text message that she was supposed to clean Jarrett’s home for her next assignment – or if it even bothered him that they’d had a falling out. She’d told him she loved him in the garage… and yet he’d still said nothing. He claimed he wanted to pick out furniture, but was that because he wanted an opinion, or because he wanted her opinion.
There was a huge difference between the two!
Pouting, she spent the next few days in bed, claiming to be sick. It was burning up her paid time off, and unfortunately she would have to return to work soon. During her time off, she simply lay there in bed- dreaming of all the different ways things could have gone and remembering how wonderful it was to be a part of his life. She missed his smiles and the way he held her hand. It was the little things that hurt the most. How he would rub his nose against hers after they kissed, or the way he would wag his eyebrows at her during an intimate scene on television or a movie. She liked that he made her laugh, and missed feeling that light feeling in her soul.
“I’ve never seen you quit anything in your life like this,” her mother told her later that evening. She walked in her bedroom and swatted her on the rear end with a sneaker that had been on the floor.
“OWW! Mom!” Rose yelped, sitting up in bed and rubbing her right cheek where the sneaker had contacted through the comforter. “I’m nearly thirty and you don’t have to spank me like I’m a child.”
“Then quit behaving like one- and get out of bed.”
“I’m sick.”
“And I’m the Pope.”
Rose glared at her mother as she walked about the bedroom trying to pick up the clothing she’d worn to the festival. She’d gotten home and shrugged it all off in favor of her favorite flannel nightgown.
“Mama, stop. I will get that.”
“So far as I can see – you aren’t getting anything accomplished but puffy eyes and a runny nose. Now, get up and get a shower- you smell.”
“That was rude.”
“And the truth! Do you wanna hear another one?”
Rose grimaced, knowing that she wasn’t going to have much choice in the matter. That was one thing her mother had always believed in: tough love. You might not like it, but it didn’t change what had happened nor what needed to be done.
“Crying over a stupid tiff between two people that love each other is like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree. It’s darn near impossible and hurts like the dickens when you get hurt. If it’s truly over, then you need to fill your life with something else that makes you happy instead of whining in here like a child. I didn’t raise you to be some meek little girl. I raised you to be the strong, caring woman I see before me.”
“Now get up, get your act together and let’s talk.”
The next day, Rose found herself going in to work and going through the motions. The day after, it was a bit easier to sleep at night because she focused on the positive. Her mother had said that when her dad left, she’d cried for weeks on end until she found something else to fill her heart: her.
Melanie never texted her to go to Jarrett’s condo again and she assumed that it was given to another employee. She still had the Baker account and that brought in a little money, but not like she was making before. Friday rolled around and she found herself pouring out her heart over tea to Mrs. Baker. The older woman nodded sagely and listened, patting her on the hand.
“Do you like reading, Rosie?” Only Mrs. Baker called her Rosie, and she smiled tremulously at her client. The woman had such a good soul, and seemed like she had a friend everywhere in town when she told her stories.
“I do. I work at the library full-time because I adore them.”
“Then it’s settled,” Mrs. Baker said with glee, clapping her hands and getting up from the table. She went over to the curio and opened the door, removing an envelope. “These legs aren’t what they used to be and I would like you to use my ticket.”
“Ticket for what?” Rose asked, accepting the envelope and sliding out an elegant card was covered with upraised gold lettering. Staring at the ticket, she realized it looked like a bookmark, and saw it was an admission to the Literary Ball held yearly as a fundraiser.
“I can’t go to this,” she breathed in surprise. Rose had no idea that Mrs. Baker was a part of the fundraising group. This ticket must have cost her a fortune, because the minimum donation was five thousand dollars. She’d heard that it was an elegant event. There were authors that attended, and even celebrities there at times.
“If you can’t go, then I will have to give my ticket away to someone else.”
Staring at the ticket, she hesitated. This was a once in a lifetime chance to be able to attend something like this and she didn’t want to give it up.
“What do you wear to something like this? A dress?”
“Oh Rosie! I do adore you! No sweetie, you wear a ball gown,” Mrs. Baker said laughing, patting her hand. “Come with me. I’ve got that covered too if you don’t mind wearing something a little old fashioned. Let’s go through a few closets and see what we can come up with.”
Hours later, Rose was leaving Mrs. Baker’s house with her ticket and a gown for the ball a month from now. It was last minute, receiving the ticket and she needed to RSVP immediately so that she had a seating for the dinner event. Mrs. Baker waved off any promises of paying her back the funds spent on the ticket- in exchange for photos of the event… and to ‘hear all the juicy details’.
Rose vowed she would fill the woman’s ears for years to come.
11
This evening was the Literary Ball. It had been a long, silent month since Rose had been given the ticket by Mrs. Baker. She had never heard back from Jarrett, and almost called his office a few times, but she was afraid to get the receptionist. In her mind, his receptionist was probably a goddess with sleek black hair and an hourglass figure. For all she knew, Jarrett had found someone else quickly to replace her.
The last few days, she and her mother had spent a lot of time talking. It wasn’t quite so painful to remember or think about Jarrett anymore. She missed him terribly, but wished him all the happiness in the world at the same time. She didn’t want to be the one that broke down and called him. She wanted him to want her! Her mother pointed out that perhaps she had run from him or pushed him away – just like she had from the very beginning. She feared how he made her feel, but things had been so very good between them… so was she scared of a future together and looking for a reason to break up?
Her mother’s words echoed in her mind repeatedly as she sat patiently, straddling the toilet seat, in order to make room for two in the tiny bathroom. Her mother insisted on a curled up-do, claiming that it looked elegant and would be perfect with the dress. The curling iron was taking forever and she swore that they’d already gone through a can of hairspray. Each curl was sprayed and meticulously pinned into place.
“Cover your face, Rose,” was all the warning she had before the hairspray bandit attacked her again. Yanking the terrycloth towel off the bar, she quickly pressed it against her face and tried to breathe. After a few moments, the hissing of the hairspray can had finally come to a stop, and she fanned the air around her desperately.
“Ugh, I can taste the hairspray.”
“You look absolutely enchanting.”
Looking in the mirror, she was stunned at what her mother had done with her hair. She was right! Rose felt like she resembled a perfect Barbie doll or fantasy princess from a fai
rytale. Each of her blonde tendrils was curled and tucked until it created a waterfall of curls down her back. She had never expected anything so beautiful or exquisite – or else she wouldn’t have worn a t-shirt.
“Mom – I can’t pull the t-shirt over my head or I will mess my hair up.”
“You’re right,” her mother agreed immediately. “We’ll cut it off.”
“Cut it off? But I love this shirt.”
“And I don’t know if I can do this again. I need to sit down for a bit; my back is killing me. Just cut the shirt off and you can find another favorite t-shirt tomorrow.” Watching her mother walk painfully down the hallway, she immediately felt guilty having her help out.
“Mama, I’ll get you some ibuprofen in just a few minutes. I’m going to need help with the zipper and will come to you. Okay?”
Rose called out absently as she tried to look down as the small set of scissors cut down the front of her t-shirt carefully. Changing quickly, she unfolded the pale-yellow dress and shook it out. It looked almost the color of lemonade, and flattered her skin tone perfectly. The fitted bodice looked like it was made for her and fit like a dream. Yards of tulle and chiffon made up the skirt that billowed out from the waist. In the bottom of the box was a small sequined purse to match.
She felt and looked just like a princess. Grinning wildly, she looked at her reflection in the mirror that was screwed to the back of her bedroom door. Giving a slight twirl, she smiled as the skirt poofed outwards and continued to swing when she came to a stop. Glancing down at her feet, she smiled. She would just wear her nude flats so they disappeared against her skin. It was too late to go out and buy new shoes to match – even if she could find a pair that did, plus the flats would be truly comfortable and she wanted to enjoy herself thoroughly.
Hearing a knock at the door, Rose heard her mother’s groan of pain from the recliner and sprang into action. Rose ran down the hallway to keep her mother from having to get up. Clutching at the bodice desperately, she was afraid that the small opening on the back of the dress would allow it to drop. She didn’t know what she would do if that happened… but her mother was hurting so badly, she didn’t need to get up. Opening the door, she saw a woman standing there with a large purse.
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