I leaned my elbows on the table, but Wes’ voice stopped me before I could say anything else.
“I think I’m ready to call it a night. If you’ll have the contract ready on Monday, we’ll make it official.”
When he stood up, everyone else followed his lead. George was the first to shake his hand. Rose stood up as well but chose to wait on the sidelines. As I was talking to Wes, telling him he wouldn’t regret his decision, I saw Rose discreetly run her hands over her bare arms. I looked at Samantha and noticed she was wearing a long-sleeved dress. As warm as it was inside the restaurant, Rose’s dress was still not appropriate for the temperature, inside or outside.
Separating myself from the group, I walked back to Rose’s side and took off my jacket, gently draping it over her shoulders.
She looked over her shoulder in surprise. “Jack, you don’t have to—”
“You’re cold. I’m not,” I said, trying to keep it simple. After a brief hesitation I put my hand on the small of her back and guided her out of the private area and into the brightly lit main dining room as the others followed us. Rose pulled my suit jacket tighter around herself and didn’t make any other comments. As we were all waiting for our cars in the entryway, I took Rose’s thin coat and draped it over my arm.
“It’s cold outside,” she muttered quietly as she leaned her shoulder against mine so the others wouldn’t hear. She started to shrug my jacket off, but I put it back over her shoulders. My hand covering hers in the process.
Our gazes held for a moment as I had to search for the right words. “I’m fine, Rose.”
As Raymond was the first to pull up at the front of the restaurant, we said our last goodbyes and headed out into the cold then got into the car.
“Mr. Hawthorne, Mrs. Hawthorne.”
Rose sighed. “Hello, Raymond.”
We all fell silent.
I was going through my schedule for the next day in my mind when Rose’s voice interrupted me only a few minutes into our ride.
“Well?” she asked quietly, giving me an expectant look.
“Well,” I repeated, not understanding what she was asking.
She took a deep breath with closed eyes, let it out softly, and then opened them. “You kill me sometimes, Jack Hawthorne. How did it go? I didn’t mess anything up, did I? At least not too badly? I sorta don’t want to apologize for the…thing I had with Samantha. She was pushing me, and I had to say something. I don’t like people like her, all the fake smiling when they’re actually insulting you and believing they’re the sharpest tool in the shed while you’re just few fries short of a Happy Meal. I’m a little bit sorry if I went too far with the I know him better than you stuff and He is only like this with me crap, though.”
“Are you sorry or not?”
Another deep breath. “Fine, not really.”
“If you’re not sorry, you don’t need to apologize. I didn’t mind it. She deserved more.”
“How old is she anyway?”
“Thirty-seven.”
“Well, she acted like a teenager,” she mumbled as she stared out the window.
I couldn’t argue with that so I didn’t. I awakened my phone and started scrolling down, double-checking my schedule. “You need to relax more. Next time, try to look more interested in me.”
“I—what do you mean?”
I sighed and put my phone down. “Every time I touched you, you either jumped up or flinched.”
“I know, but you didn’t warn me.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “I was supposed to warn my wife before I touched her?”
“Not in there, of course, but before, when we were in the car. We should’ve talked more, gone over a few things. We were unprepared, and I don’t want to say I told you so, but I did tell you. They asked all the questions.”
“If I remember correctly, you fell asleep in the car, and what’s the big deal? We answered them.” I carefully considered my next words. “You were warmer to Fred.”
I looked at her when only silence followed my words. Her eyes were slightly widened. “I was…trying to be nice to your friends. You didn’t think that I…that I would—that I was flirting with him or anything—”
I frowned at her. “What are you talking about? Of course not. Why would I think that?”
“You just said—”
“I said you were warmer to him. You smiled and talked to him more than you talked or smiled to me. That’s all I meant. Also, again, they’re not my friends—”
“Just partners, I know. I got it.” She released a longer sigh and massaged her temple. “If we want to keep up this charade, we desperately need to communicate more, Jack. You have to talk to me.”
I looked out the window and stayed quiet for the rest of the way back to the apartment. How was I supposed to explain that I was actually trying my best to talk to her as little as possible? That I had to do so?
Once we were in the building, the doorman stood up. “Mr. Hawthorne, Mrs. Hawthorne. Welcome.”
“Good evening, Steve,” Rose said, smiling at the older man. To my surprise, she stopped next to his station as I called down the elevator. “How are you feeling today? Your migraine is gone, I hope?”
“Much better. Thank you for asking, Mrs. Hawthorne.”
“I told you before, you can just call me Rose. Has it been a busy night?”
The doorman’s eyes darted my way. “Erm, just the usual.”
With my hands in my pockets, I watched their interaction with interest.
Steve’s eyes cut to me then back to Rose again before he quickly added, “Mrs. Hawthorne.”
The elevator doors pinged open and she looked toward me. “Looks like our ride is here. Have a good night, Steve. I’ll see you in the morning?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hawthorne. I’ll be here.”
I held the doors open as she quickened her steps and got in the elevator. I stepped in after her. We only managed to go up two floors in silence before my curiosity got the better of me. “You know the doorman?”
“Yes. I met him the first morning I was leaving for work. We chat a bit in the mornings. Why?”
“You’ve only been here for two weeks.”
“So?”
“I didn’t know his name,” I admitted uncomfortably.
She hugged my jacket tighter around herself. “You never asked?”
“I—no.” I didn’t want to admit that I hadn’t deemed it necessary, because I didn’t like how that made me sound.
A moment later, I couldn’t stop myself from asking what had been on my mind for days now. “Do you still talk to Joshua, your ex-fiancé?” I blurted out at the same time the elevator doors opened, surprising both of us.
Rose froze and gave me a startled look. I cursed myself for bringing it up, but after the dinner, I was too curious to ignore the idea completely.
“No, I don’t talk to him. Haven’t talked to him or seen him since we broke up and I’m not planning to do it in the future either. Why would you ask that?” she finally asked, walking out of the elevator before I could answer. I followed her to our door.