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ChapterTwelve
Blake had been short-tempered all day and Rose was ninety-percent sure it was her fault. She’d been sat downstairs, in what she’d dubbed the TV room, with Bailey most of the afternoon. There was a large sliding glass door to their right that overlooked the woodland greenery and though it was raining again, the gray weather just made the plush room feel cozier.
Blake had a large L-shaped couch in soft brown leather and she’d laid out a blanket on it for Bailey to sit and then grabbed her own from a big wicker basket by the door. The couch faced a TV so large it took up most of the back wall, with big speakers hooked up to it on each side and smaller ones installed behind where they were sitting for surround sound. The room was quiet though. She felt awkward trying to work out how the TV worked and so hadn’t attempted it. It had four remotes.Four.It just seemed like an obscene amount. The TV at the suite had one remote – on, off. Except now she wished she hadn’t compared them because now all she could see was the wordWHOREscrawled in bright red lipstick across its surface.
Rose shook the thought away and pulled Blake’s laptop closer. He’d let her borrow one of his to continue working on the gala, seeing as hers had been impounded with everything else in the suite, and Maia had sent over her latest mock-up of the ballroom. It was stunning in shades of green and gauze, and Rose could imagine how the golden glow of the string lights would catch on the bubbles in the champagne… they’d decided to go for old-school elegance, almost royal, and who knew? It might turn out to be her favorite project yet. All she needed to do now was show Blake the plans and have him approve them, which was easier said than done when he left the room every time she walked in.
She stroked one finger over the smooth top of the laptop as she thought. Even though she’d been working here and there on the gala, she had actually tried to bear in mind what Blake had said to her before, something she could recognize was true –you never stop.It had only taken a break-in and confrontation with an angry stalker to trigger the anxiety she’d mostly kept at bay before and to realize that perhaps her coping mechanisms hadn’t been as healthy as she’d wanted to believe. Her panic attacks had been less frequent since starting up her anxiety meds again, but it would take a little while for her to tell if they were still working for her after all this time. What she really needed was for this guy to be caught so she could stop worrying about going outside or feeling uncomfortable in the dark, like she could be being watched. She hadn’t slept with the lights on since she was a kid, but it was what she had resorted to doing to keep herself out of Blake’s bed and firmly in her own.
Blake had asked her yesterday at dinner who she thought it might have been in her apartment that night. Generally, she’d been avoiding remembering. The way the light from the elevator had caught on the metal of the knife still had her heart beating too fast, and at the time she’d just shrugged. But now it was a question she couldn’t get out of her mind. Why was this person targeting her? Was it just some crazed fan? Or, the question she’d been worried to look at too closely, was it someone she knew?
She ran a hand between Bailey’s ears, frown morphing into a grin when his eyes twitched but his snoring never stopped. It seemed like Blake had worn him out on their walk earlier, but while Bailey was snoozy and content, Blake seemed fouler than usual. She could only assume he’d been out stewing on the things they’d said yesterday. In truth, she’d been stewing too. Maybe she had been unfair to Blake. Maybe. But she still wasn’t going to just take everything he said on blind faith. He was still a controlling ass even if his intentions were good.
Blake strolled into the room at that exact moment and Bailey opened a sleepy eye to look at him. Were they talking? Should she say something? From the way he’d been slamming about in the kitchen earlier it definitely seemed like he had something he wanted to say to her.
“He’s not supposed to be on the couch,” Blake said at the same time that she asked, “Are you pissed at me?”
He blinked. “No.” He grabbed the blanket that was pooled on her lap and tugged half of it onto him as he sat down, and she glared as she tugged it back.
“You definitelyseempissed at me,” she needled and relented when he reached for her blanket again, tucking it around his legs as he reached for a skinny black remote.
“Not everything is about you,” he replied tersely, and yeah, ouch. What stick had got up his ass?
“I never said it was. So it’s just coincidence that we had an uncomfortable chat yesterday and today you’re moody?”
Blake sighed, running a hand over his face as he looked at her. “I didn’t find our chat uncomfortable,” he said pointedly, and she grimaced.
“Well, then what is it? Spit it out,” she said, opting to ignore his retort. Maybe she could have been gentler, but somehow it seemed like the time for tough love.
“It’s my mother.”
“What? Is she okay?” Maybe tough love hadn’t been the right approach after all.
“She’s fine.” Blake sighed. “Or at least she is right now, but she’s getting older. She won’t be here forever, and when you lose one parent you become incredibly aware of that fact.”
Rose was silent, unsure what she could really say to help. She was lucky enough to have both parents happy and healthy and alive. Blake wasn’t.
“So you’re worried about her?” she asked a little more gently, and he half-shrugged.
“I don’t want to miss out on time with her.”
“That makes sense,” she said slowly. “But I don’t get why that means you’re moody right now.”
“I’m not moody,” Blake pouted, and her lip twitched. “On a Sunday, Mom, Cara, and I normally do family dinner. We do movies and snacks, and yesterday was the first one I’ve missed in a long time and, well, I didn’t even really notice because I was focused on you.”
“Cara and Grace did it without you?” She was a little envious. Her mom and dad were great, but they’d never had that sort of family relationship where they had traditions. Sure, they met up for food or drinks but a lot of the time… Rose looked away from Blake to the woods outside, guilt churning.A lot of the time she simply didn’t have time, was what she had been going to say, but the truth was… she could make time. Blake clearly did. And he was right, her parents weren’t going to be around forever, if not now, then when?
“You look deep in thought,” Blake said. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Um, sorry. No,” she admitted, and he snorted.
“You are one of the most self-absorbed people I’ve ever met.” She would have been offended, but he almost made it sound like a compliment. Besides, she knew it was true. She was used to being the only child, used to getting her way and being the center of attention. She was a self-confessed brat. “Vain too,” he added, and Rose swatted his arm as he laughed, face seeming lighter than before he sat down. “I told them it was okay to do it without me.”
“Well,” she said, plucking the remote from his hand and wafting it around uselessly, “we can do our own frenemies day today instead. Just me, you, and Bailey.”
“I’ve been upgraded.” Blake grinned as he grabbed the remote back and selected the categoryMovieson the screen. “No longer the man you loathe, huh?Frenemies,”he mocked, and she glowered.
“It’s probationary,” she hissed, and he winked at her.
