“Appreciate it. We’d need to be there in advance, so meet by two?” Dakota asked. “Now that I have the time frame, I’ll call over to Cerberus and see if that works on their end. Reaper wants to come along and observe to refine my techniques.”
“Give him a call. With or without Tank, I want you there too. You have the best eye for Colombian-produced counterfeit currency.”
“Yup. I’m on it. Text me a meet-up site, and I’ll catch up with you there.” Dakota pressed the button to end the call and looked up at the office building.
Rose was late.
His next call was to Reaper, who was jazzed about the idea of a real-world scenario and was en route.
Dakota checked the time. He could have a quick meal, explain that duty called, take a cab to his condo, get his car, and head to the airport.
Could he do it all? Calculating for traffic?
Possibly.
But a stressful lunch with his mind elsewhere wasn’t good.
He glanced at the florists and hustled through the door, dragging his credit card from his pants pocket. “Hey, quick sale, please. I need this bouquet in the window, please.”
The woman bustled over, pulled the flowers from the bucket, and took the credit card Dakota extended out.
“A choice of ribbon, sir?” She pushed the flowers into a helper’s hands, and the helper was tearing paper and folding it neatly.
“Whatever you think would be nice.”
“A note?”
“I’ll say it in person,” Dakota said. He was terrible at finding the right written words to express his sentiments. “Sorry for your gray mood,” seemed like a bad idea.
When Dakota had said ‘quick’, these women took it to heart, and he was out the door moments later, bouquet in hand.
He planned to apologize for breaking their date, hand Rose the flowers, tell her about the lunches he’d ordered and paid for waiting for her, and ask to talk to her that evening.
She just needed to show up.
Rose was sometimes late if they got behind with the patients. She must be having a hard day.
Still, Dakota felt the pressure of time and decided to give her a call.
“Dakota.”
“You sound bad,” he said. “Are you okay?”
“Not bad. Just … look, I’m not coming down. Last night, my ex and I had a long talk about the kids and us. We decided we’regoing to make a go of it because it’s too hard to do alone. Too expensive. Too exhausting.”
“That’s great for you, Rose. I hope it works out the way you want it to.”
“I’m sorry, Dakota. You’re a really nice guy. I’ve enjoyed knowing you.”
“Nope, not at all. I wish you well. Good luck.” He slid his phone in his pocket as he stepped to the curb, scanning for a taxi.
Okay, that was that. Dakota could trust his instincts; it was the conversation he’d felt looming.
He looked down at the flowers.
How did he feel about the end of his knowing Rose?
He enjoyed her company, and he was going to miss that. But there was always a barrier she set: this much and no more. She wasn’t inviting him into her life. When his couple-friends started talking about their different love languages, Benny winked at his wife, Martha, and said, “Physical touch, that’s mine.”
