The tears began again.
Chapter 9: The Hound—The big salad
Rose hugged herself and burst into tears, lowering her head until her chin curled into her neck. Her shoulders shook and I could tell she was trying to control herself. Unsure if my actions would be welcomed, I tentatively stepped forward and rubbed her back.
“Let’s sit down. It’s okay. These things can be very emotional.”
She let me lead her to the sofa, where she put her hands over her face and continued to cry.
“We’ll follow this through. The lead might be nothing. Even if it is something, you’re strong enough to manage this, Rose. You were strong enough to come to my office and start this search. You were strong enough to live with this uncertainty your whole life. You’ll get through this.”
I went from rubbing her back to putting my arm around her and pulling her close. She stiffened for a few seconds and then pushed her face into my shoulder. Her hands dropped to her thighs, and I could hear her try to regain control of her breath. I wasn’t sure how long she’d let me hold her like this, so I enjoyed the closeness while I could. She smelt nice, like jasmine. Or honeysuckle. I don’t know; I wasn’t a flower expert, but it was light and soft.
“Thank you. I’m sorry,” she said, taking her head off my shoulder and wiping her eyes frantically, like she was trying to pretend she hadn’t cried on me. I didn’t remove my arm. Instead, I turned to face her more fully and placed my other arm beside her legs on the sofa.
“Don’t apologize. This was my fault for not delivering the news in person. Sometimes I become so focused on a case, I forget the human emotions involved. I’m so sorry, Rose.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s fine.” She stood and wiped her hands on her skirt. I looked up at her, a flash of green catching my eye. It washer gift. She’d received it. I wanted to know how she felt about it. Disguising my question as an attempt to change the subject, I stood and motioned toward the drink bottle with my hand.
“Oh, I’ve been looking at those bottles. They look great. I thought about getting one for the gym. Do you like it? I need one that doesn’t leak.”
She exhaled, grateful for the distraction.
“Oh, I’m not sure. This one just arrived. I haven’t used it yet, but I’ve heard good things about it.”
“When did you order it? I need one by Thursday and not sure how long it will take.”
“I didn’t. It was a gift. From my neighbor Gloria. I don’t know when she ordered it.”
Gloria hey? Hmm. My motive was just to make my Zahra smile, but I’m not sure I wanted this Gloria to take the credit. She was like Elaine fromSeinfeld, claiming credit for George’s big salad. George was petty for sure, but I understood him a little more now that Gloria had unintentionally “big saladed” my gifts. For my next gift, I’d have to make sure she knew it was from a man. A man who viewed her as a woman. I’d been too casual. My gifts were apparently “light” enough for her to think they were a gesture of neighborly friendship. I’d have to up my game.
“Well, thank you for dropping in. It was very kind of you Ace.”
She’d called me Ace a few times now. Her guard was slipping. I nodded, rubbing her back one more time before walking to her door.
“Call me if you need me, Rose. I would like to help you however I can.”
Maybe I should be bolder. Declare my intentions. It was too soon, though. I’d wait until we’d resolved the investigation and then confess my feelings. Brett was insistent on no personal relationships with clients, and until now, I’d never been tempted. It was safer to wait.
She followed me at a safe distance until we reached the door.
“I’ll update you once I’ve spoken to my contact,” I informed her.
“Thank you, Ace.” She gave a weak smile and closed the door.
I left her apartment, noting the name of the super on the notice near the exit. Glenn Maxwell. I wonder if Glenn Maxwell was open to bribes?
_____________
At home, I scrolled through my search results. Do I dare send her underwear? No, too soon. Maybe a nice dress. She looked great in red and green. Yes, a dress. I estimated her size and ordered a tight red dress, using a fake name and marking it as “gift” with anonymous sender. Although it was tight, it was relatively modest. I hesitated when I reached the “comments” field. I wanted her to know I was a man, but I didn’t want to scare her.
Beautiful Zarah, my Rose. This dress was made for you. One day, I hope you’ll wear it for me.
There, that wasn’t too sexual, was it? I had difficulty being neutral, but I felt like we were meant to be. I understood Rose. I cared for Rose. I would never hurt her, and I wanted her to know that. I wanted to write it in the note, but “I would never hurt you” on a romantic gift seemed to say the complete opposite, especially when it was anonymous. I entered my credit card details and clicked “finalize” before I could change my mind.
Sweet Zarah, I hope this makes you smile.
Chapter 10: The Rose—Slipping
