Page 16 of Roses are Royal

19

DANTE

The last place I want to be right now is East Harlem, meeting with my boss at Liliana’s Cucina over Italian food, sitting in a dimly lit red vinyl booth. Although the restaurant is on 114th and Pleasant Ave., this conversation is the furthest thing from pleasant. I would much rather be in another booth with a certain brunette sparring over something as mundane as who is paying for the meal.

“When will the package be delivered?” my boss asks around a mouthful of chicken parm.

“As I stated in my last update, I need more time.” My response is clipped as I attempt to maintain a semblance of respect. My patience has dwindled over the past few years, especially now that I see a new path forward so close it’s within reach.

“You know as well as I do that we don’t have more time. I don’t have more time.” The last statement is said with a twinge of sadness and regret, something I have only seen once before in my boss.

“I understand. I will do my best to move up the delivery timeline. The package is delicate and will require some finesse.”

“You know what’s at stake, Dante. Not just your future but also the future of the organization. You know it has to be this way.”

“I’ll get it done. I always do,” I say with assurance and a bit of remorse lacing my words. This is what I have been working toward for the past year, but at this moment, I can feel my priorities shifting without my consent.

“Good.”

I take that as my dismissal and rise from the booth and turn toward the exit.

“Oh, and Dante,” my boss says, causing me to pause, “you know the consequences of failure.”

With a simple nod of acknowledgment, I stride out the door and onto the street, walking through Thomas Jefferson Park toward the Harlem River. It takes several moments for my pulse to return to normal, which is uncharacteristic for me. I’m usually in total control, and the one delivering the threats, so hearing those words directed at me and knowing what I signed up for has my mind racing. How can I complete this job and earn my freedom while dealing with the most beautiful thorn in my side? One thing is for sure. If she is the thorn, then let me bleed slowly. I’d take her sting a thousand times just to keep her near because thorns don’t just prick. They stay buried under the skin, and I never want to dig her out. I’ll just have to find a way to help my boss at the same time while still keeping her safe.

20

ROSE

Walking on the busy sidewalks of the city, I used to feel like I could get lost in the crowd. But ever since the hotel room incident, I feel like eyes are on me. It is an almost tangible feeling of being watched, but as I look around, no one is paying me any attention. I am just another person trying to get from one place to another in the bustle of the city.

I’m on my way to my last stop to discuss the final custom piece for Dante when I swear I see the man himself across the street. I quickly do a double take, scanning the sidewalk, but he isn’t there. I must really be losing it if I’m conjuring visions of Dante. I almost deflate when I realize he wasn’t actually there. And why would he be? What, did he also drive back to the city this morning for no reason? That makes zero sense. That man was made for the isolation his new home offers. And what would I have even done if it was him? Wave awkwardly from across the street? Shout his name? Ha! No. But I do get a strange sense of longing not being in his presence. I shouldn’t miss a man I just met and barely even know, but against my instincts, I do. He gives me a sense of security. I could fall apart, and he would be there to put my pieces back together. Better yet, he’d be able to catch me before I break.

I need to focus on getting everything done in the city so I can drive upstate tomorrow. I still need to figure out where I’m going to stay. I guess I could stay in a different nearby town, but I’d rather not have to make the extra drive every day, and dealing with deliveries to a separate location will already be time-consuming. I know Dante offered to have me stay with him, but that feels like crossing a line that can’t be undone. But maybe he would be fine with me having deliveries sent directly to the house if it improves the timeline a bit.

21

DANTE

Shit, that was close. What is wrong with me today? How could I be so careless when following her? She almost saw me. Almost a year of surveillance on her, and this was the first time I’ve ever slipped up.

My mind has been swirling since I left Harlem and followed the moving blue dot of Rose’s location to the design district. This woman does something to my focus when I’m in her proximity. Luckily, she also seemed lost in thought, and I was able to duck into a convenience store on the corner before she could look back for me. I need Rose to finish up for the day and go back to her apartment so I can relax, knowing she is tucked safely away in her loft. I’m running on zero sleep, and it’s making me sloppy. I also need time to review the footage from earlier, when I was in my meeting, to ensure I didn’t miss anything.

The sooner she gets back to my place, the better. I still need to convince her to stay with me, but I’m working on a strategy to make it her only option. If all goes to plan, there won’t be a single room for rent available in a fifty-mile radius. With any luck, she will have to ask me to stay at my house instead of me forcing her to.

Getting back to my place in the city, I continue to track Rose’s location as she makes her way back to her loft. I didn’t want to chance her seeing me again, so instead of physically monitoring her, this will have to do until she gets back home, and I can view her on my camera feeds. While she is out, I will use the time to review the recordings from earlier while I was in my meeting.

Watching Rose moving throughout her apartment is like poetry in motion. She looks so at ease and confident in her own space, and I need to figure out a way to make her feel comfortable like this while she is in my home. Maybe I’ll get some of the candles she is always burning. I definitely need to add a high-quality espresso machine to my appliance requests so she can get her caffeine fix.

I’m lost in thought watching Rose pick out an outfit when she gets a confused look on her face. I watch as she walks to her front door and opens it, likely for the food she had ordered. But based on the audio from prior, she never confirmed who was buzzing her apartment. She only told them to “come on up.” If she were mine, I would definitely have words to say about her lack of concern over safety. Maybe I can find a way to bring it up organically. She needs to be more careful, especially after the motel incident. I know her building is secure, but not if she is buzzing in whoever calls her apartment number. Maybe I overreacted…it looks like it is just a guy delivering her food. I flip the audio of the video on so I can listen to their interaction.

“Oh, um, hi. You must be new. The other delivery guy normally just leaves my food by the door for me to grab.” Rose seems confused but not nervous with this guy, but I also know “the other delivery guy,” Joe, who I have already fully looked into, has been the only delivery driver to bring her food from this restaurant in a year, so who the hell is this guy?

“I’m just filling in. Would you like me to bring it inside for you?” the new delivery driver responds, ignoring Rose’s statement.

Now she looks nervous. A feeling of helplessness passes over me, knowing this interaction took place hours ago, so if something happened, I wouldn’t even be able to intervene. But I quickly remind myself I just saw Rose on the street and she seemed fine. Let’s see how this plays out and if I need to add another name to my growing list of people to remove from Rose’s life.

“Um, no, I can just take it. Thank you, though.” Rose reaches for the bag of food, and I almost feel like this new guy won’t hand it over and instead force his way inside, the way he is looking over her shoulder to get a look inside her apartment. Luckily, he releases the bag, but before Rose can close the door, he puts his hand out to stop it from closing all the way.