Rosalie Nicholas holds my hand tightly as we deviate from the candlelit path that connects the exhibit and fundraiser venues. I noticed how he seemed angry, but I’m uncertain why. Is it because I was distracted for a bit? He brought me here to network and shield him, but instead of that, I’ve been sipping wine and dancing, when I know how he feels about unprofessionalism — no matter how momentarily.I gasp when my heels sink into the grass, and Nicholas looks back over his shoulder, his gaze dark as he lets go of my hand. “Struggling?” he asks, his voice soft despite the anger flashing through his eyes. His sudden mood change surprises me a bit. Before I even have a chance to reply, he leans in, startling me. He wraps one arm behind my back and the other behind my knees as he lifts me into his arms with ease. “Nicholas,” I murmur, my tone betraying my surprise. “What are you doing?”He tightens his grip on me until he’s got my head resting against his shoulder, my lips brushing
Rosalie “Rosie?”I look up at the sound of my grandma's voice and find her standing in the doorway of my bedroom. “Grams? What are you doing here?”Her eyes roam over my face, a hint of concern in them. “I rang the doorbell twice, but you didn’t hear me, eh? I was worried about you, so I came to take a look. You haven’t come home to visit in a while.”I rise to my feet and grab her hands, noting how cold they are. “How did you get here?”She smiles at me. “I took the bus and walked. I called you a few times earlier, but you didn’t pick up. I had a bad feeling, so I used the code on your fancy door lock.” I smile noting how I used to hate getting that thing because of how much it cost. But now that's probably the best decision I made since I started living here. Took a lot of convincing and a lot of neighborhood break-ins but I caved in and installed one.I lift our joined hands to my face and warm her hand on my cheek. “I’m sorry, grandma. I’ve just been busy with work. I should’
Nicholas Rosalie isn’t at her desk when I walk into the office, and I check my pocket watch, my head throbbing. It’s nine in the morning, so she’s likely in a meeting by now.I run a hand through my hair, the weekend’s events running through my mind. I fucked up. I never should’ve said any of that shit to her, and I certainly shouldn’t have touched her. I’m neither impulsive nor emotional yet seeing her with Zane Wyatt pissed me off beyond reason. I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. All I could think about was making her mine before he ever even had a chance with her. It was irrational and so unlike me that even I can’t figure out why I acted that way.I hated that I was acting out this way. The sex was amazing, but I don't think it warrants me acting like this every time I see her with another man who isn't me.True remorse fucking guts me when I see the pink sticky note on my desk, two tablets on top of it, and a glass of water beside it. For your inevitable hangover, it reads.
Rosalie I've always done everything by the book because I figured it was the only way to avoid unwanted attention. I told myself if I worked on time, deliver all the tasks given by my boss early. I'd be out of here in no time with enough knowledge about corporate life to help start my own company one day if I choose to. I’m the quiet person.They say the only way to be popular or loved is to stomp on others and be mean, but I believe in being nice.I believe in being nice for the greater good.Now, if I could just not let other people’s opinions eat me up from the inside, that would be perfect.I've spent almost all my life living for other people. I've spent years working for a man who doesn't respect me. No matter how good I am at work or how well I obey his rules he'll only ever see me as a toy. His plaything! "We're here, Madame." The sound of the taxi driver's voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I took a taxi because I didn't think myself to be in the right headspace fi
Nicholas A soft knock sounds on my door, and I look up to find Rosalie walking in. My heart does this weird thing — it skips a beat despite the pain seeing her causes. Lately, I can no longer look at her without my heart feeling heavy. After she got to the hotel last night I could tell that I had already fucked shit up more than before. After Rosalie got in, she took her dress off and sat on the bed without saying anything. It hurt to see her acting like that toward me and I knew it was all my fault. I tried to spend the night apologizing but she told me to get on with what I called her over here for.Hearing her say that, it... it felt like I had been making her sleep with me. As if she only had sex with me because I said so."I don't want us to have sex if you're mad at me, Rosalie," I told her and she nodded her head. "I'm so sorry, I don't know why I said all those things to you at the exhibition. And earlier today... fuck! I didn't mean to say it in front of Jacob."She gives me
Rosalie I pause outside of my Grandma's home and stare up at it, feeling lost. I’ve never been an impulsive person. Every single thing I do is well thought out. My steps are measured and calculated. For as long as I can remember, I’ve played the long game.Even when I was younger, I never dreamed too big. The one time I did, reality quickly came calling, reminding me that people like me don’t get to have carefree college years filled with fun and parties.I’ve always known that providing for my family would be a burden I’d carry, and I’ve done it without a single complaint. I know that I don’t have the luxury of acting impulsively when my entire family relies on me.Yet that’s exactly what I did. I quit my job without thinking. The worst part is that I don’t regret it. I don’t think I’ve felt quite this free in a long time, but how long will that last? How long will it take for reality to come knocking on my door all over again?All I know is I'd do whatever it takes to make sur
Nicholas "Talia!" I called out to the substitute assistant that was provided after Rosalie left. "Get me Christopher Harper on the phone immediately!""Yes, Mr. Sinclair. Would you like anything else?" She asks, hanging around."Don't you think if I wanted anything else I would have mentioned it?" I bark harshly. "Ye- yes sir," she mutters lowly before scurrying back to her office.It's no secret that my mood has been sour since Rosalie quit her job. It got worse when she refused to pick up any of my calls or reply to the numerous text messages I sent her. I had it in me to stop by her house after she left but I refrained from doing it.Not with the recent shadow I have following me aroundMy office phone rings and my hand darts out with speed to answer the device. "Sir, Mr. Harper on line two." I press a button and switch from Talia's line to Harper's immediately."Sinclair, how may I help you?" Christopher's deep voice fills my ears. I'm not particularly fond of him, but the o
Nicholas I stare out the large windows in my office, my mind drifting back to the day Rosalie was hired. She was so young, and she had little to no work experience. She didn’t even have a degree — she was a college dropout.I couldn’t understand why my grandfather would hire someone like her, and even less so, why he’d place her beside me. I chalked it up to nepotism and set out to get her fired, but nothing I did ever fazed her.Each task I gave her that should’ve been too hard for her to do was executed perfectly. She learned faster and worked harder than anyone else in the firm — including me. It only took her a year to become indispensable to me.I’ve come to rely on her in a way I would never rely on anyone else, and I’ve compensated her for it handsomely. Fuck I should have done more. Whatever she needed, I should have provided. I once overheard her complain to a colleague that it took her too long to travel to the office from home, I should have bought her an apartment
Rosalie A year had passed since the whirlwind of my tour ended, and now I stood at the threshold of a new chapter in my life. Nicholas and I had returned home, and I couldn’t help but reflect on how far we had come. I remembered the day I announced my engagement to Anna, her face lighting up with joy as she squealed and pulled me into a tight embrace. “Oh my gosh, Rosalie! You’re getting married!” she had exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. We had laughed and cried and laughed again while we watched romcom and drank ice cream, feeling a warmth in my heart that I had never known before. After that, I had rushed to visit Grams to share the news. I could still picture how her face would lighten up and what she would say if she was here, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness. “Oh, my sweet Rosie, I always knew you’d find someone special,” she would say, her voice filled with pride. I had told her everything—the proposal, the plans, and how Nicholas had swept me o
Rosalie It's been a month since Nicholas proposed to me. We decided to keep it a surprise from everyone until after I was done touring. At first, I didn't know how Anna was going to feel about Nicholas and I getting back together, and I told him about it. That was until he told me how she had come to his office and gave him the longest and most useful pep talk of his life. He also kept his word and followed me to work and waited every single day. And the gifts never stopped even though we were back together.The tour ended with a grand exhibition attended by the movers and shakers of oak view’s art world. The exhibition took place in a big hall, and every photgrapher had their own section in the pop-up gallery.It was exhilarating, nerve-wracking, and utterly surreal.I stared at my little slice of heaven and the people passing through it, dressed to the nines and examining each piece with what I hoped were admiring eyes.I’d grown by leaps and bounds as a photographer over the
Nicholas That’s Scorpio.” Rosalie pointed to a spot in the sky. “Do you see it?”I followed her gaze toward the constellation. It looked like any other cluster of stars.“Mmmhmm. Looks great.”She turned her head and narrowed her eyes. “Do you really see it, or are you lying?”“I see stars. Lots of them.”Rosalie huffed out a half groan, half laugh. “You’re hopeless, Nicholas.”“I told you, I’m not and never will be an astronomy expert. I’m just here for the view and the company.” I kissed the top of her head.We lay on a pile of blankets and cushions outside our glamping resort in Caravans Desert, one of the top stargazing destinations. After all the shit that’d gone down last month, this was the perfect place to reset now that she has given me another chance. So I brought her to this resort six days ago. We’d spent the past four days hiking volcanoes, luxuriating in hot springs, and exploring sand dunes. My assistant had nearly keeled over with shock when I told her I was
Rosalie My dates with Nicholas had been really successful. And he lived up to his promise-slash-threat of showing up every. Single. Day. He was there in the morning when I left for my fellowship, usually with a vanilla latte and blueberry scone—my favorites. He was there to walk me home after my daily photography time. Other times, especially when I was with other people or exploring the city on the weekends, he was less conspicuous, but he was there. I felt his presence even though I couldn’t see him.I never thought Nicholas Sinclair would become my stalker, but there we were.On top of that, gifts arrived every day. By the boatload.By the end of the first week, my apartment looked like I was opening an indoor garden. I donated everything to a local hospital—the roses of every color, the vivid purple orchids and sweet white lilies, the cheerful sunflowers and delicate peonies.By the end of the second week, I owned enough jewelry to make the Duchess of Cambridge green with env
Rosalie After our date, the gifts didn't stop. They kept coming. By the end of the third week, I was knee-deep in gourmet chocolates, gift baskets, and custom-made desserts. I didn’t care about fancy jewels or flowers, so those gifts didn’t matter to me. It was the little things that tore holes in my heart—the red velvet cupcakes that spelled out I’m Sorry; a rare, vintage Japanese camera I’d searched for for years but had never found for sale. By the end of the fourth week, I was torn between tearing my hair out in frustration and crumbling like a sandcastle at high tide. “We need to talk,” I said Friday afternoon after I left my lighting techniques workshop. Nicholas lounged against a light pole outside the building, infuriatingly gorgeous in jeans and a white T-shirt. Aviators hid his eyes, but the intensity of his gaze seared through the glasses and burned into my flesh. “Sure,” Nicholas said, unfazed by the attention he was getting. He was probably used to it. While he foll
Rosalie I didn’t move back in with Nicholas. Part of me wanted to, but I wasn’t ready to jump in with both feet again so soon.I did, however, agree to another date with him.Three days after our movie night, we arrived at a quiet corner of the Oak View Botanic Garden. It was a gorgeous afternoon, all clear skies and golden sunshine, and the picnic setup looked like something out of a fairytale.A low wooden table stretched across a thick ivory blanket, surrounded by huge cushions, gold and glass floor lanterns, and an oversized wicker hamper. The table itself was set with porcelain plates and a feast of foods, including baguettes, charcuterie, and desserts.It was amazing. And Nicholas lived up to his promise-slash-threat of showing up every. Single. Day. He was there in the morning when I left for my fellowship, usually with a vanilla latte and blueberry scone—my favorites. He was there to walk me home after my workshops.Other times, especially when I was with other peo
Nicholas "My sweet girl, it’s so nice to see you!” Freya brushed past me and swept Rosalie up in a hug. She only used the sweet girl endearment for her grandchildren, but apparently, she’d extended it to Rosalie. “The house isn’t the same without you.”I scowled at her pointed tone. She’d given me the cold treatment all week. I was pretty sure she’d burned my pork chops on purpose the other night. I’d forced down two bites before I gave up and ordered takeout. It wasn’t just her, either; even Edward my driver had cast disapproving glances my way when he thought I wasn’t looking.My staff didn’t know what happened with Rosalie amd I. They only knew she was gone, and they blamed me for it.Hell, I blamed myself too, which was why I was trying to make amends.I’d spent the past couple of days since my call with Rosalie planning the date, and my nerves were a humiliating wreck. I hadn’t been this nervous since I was a high school freshman asking out the most popular girl in school.
NicholasOne ring. Two. Three.I paced my room, my stomach twisted with nerves as I waited for her to answer.It was ten-thirty, which meant she was getting ready for bed. She usually took an hour to wind down with a shower or a bath, depending on how stressed she was; a bafflingly intricate ten-step skincare routine, and some reading, if she wasn’t too tired.I’d timed my call so I’d catch her after she got out of the shower.Four rings. Five.Assuming, of course, she picked up my call.My nerves pulled tighter.Rosalie gave me her number that afternoon, which meant she wanted me to call, right? If she didn’t, she would’ve simply left. Hell, a part of me had expected her to.I’d lingered in that damn coffee shop for almost two hours on the off chance I’d see her. She went there every day, but her timing varied depending on her workload.It wasn’t the world’s greatest plan, but it’d worked, even if it’d meant skipping a lunch video call meeting.Six rings. Sev—“Hello?” Her voice flow
Rosalie “Hey, Rosalie. The usual?”“Yes, please. Make it four,” I said as the barista rang me up. I frequented the coffee shop near the main building so often they’d memorized my order. “Thanks, Sue.”“No problem.” She smiled. “See you tomorrow.”I paid and moved to the pickup area, only half looking at where I was going. I was too distracted by the flood of new messages scrolling across my screen. Mostly from Anna and maybe one or two from Ares.With the way she sent numerous messages at once, one would think she's in trouble.She probably wanted to congratulate me on the success of the Picture Ball. According to her and Sarah, news outlets had deemed it “one of the most exquisite balls in the Picture Balls history” in their Sunday style roundup, which meant I woke up that morning with even more messages crowding my inbox.It was only Monday, and I already had twenty-two new client inquiries, five interview requests, and countless invitations to balls, screenings, and private par