Thank you Mani, Dani and Luna 3
Love you, ladies!
15.
Rosalie, you need to tie the motherfucking loose ends. My heart hammers in my chest as I press "call." I don't how many times I hear the ringer, my confidence faltering when I realize no one is ever going to pick up. Fuck.
I eye the wall in front of me, a little sick and tired of being alone in Emmett and Jasper's apartment while they're working. I want to go to work, too, and go on with my life. Instead, I'm forced to deal with the demons from my past — with the person who built me back up only to have me crumble to pieces again. Still, I'm notspiteful. Yeah, I'm beyond angry at Irina, but meeting Emmett made me realize how our relationship was built on comfort. It was easy, so fucking easy. But that's not what life is about. That's not what love is about.
I know it's ridiculous to say I'm in love with Emmett McCarty, but what I feel for him is beyond words. I can't explain it, because it's a feeling so deep and feral, I'm not sure I have ever felt it at all. Not even with Royce, or with any of my boyfriends before that. Never.
My feelings make me feel stronger instead of weak; they make me want to take action and move forward, take matters into my own hands before the rug is ripped away from under me again. No. I won't let her do that. Irina already chased me out of my home and she yanked the money straight out of my wallet, but I won't have any more of her antics, of her lawyer talk. None of that. Not anymore. I'm stronger now.
I get dressed, taking my time, choosing my best skinny jeans — the grey ones she used to love because they make my ass look good or something. The blouse I pick is satin and dusty pink. It's one from another life, but one that fits the lawyer events Irina took me to. I leave a little too many buttons open, showing off the swell of my breasts. My hair is curled and brushed out, and I spritzed a little of Emmett's cologne into it. I smile like the Cheshire cat at my attempt to look sultry with a hint of je-ne-sais-quoi, well aware she'll fucking die if she sees me like this.
My hands tremble around my keychain when I shut down the engine of my car. I take a few steadying breaths, fluff up my hair in the rearview mirror and check myself for nervous sweat stains. All clear.
"Come on, Hale. Time to show that bitch what you're made of."
My heels are loud in the foyer of the law firm, and my secretive smile falters a little when Leslie, the receptionist, greets me.
"Rose! Hi, how are you?" I bite my lip and stare at the jet-haired, middle-aged woman. I know she loves to gossip, so I plant a great one in her basket, my smile falling off my face, replaced by a frown that makes my eyes look way sadder than they actually are.
"I — is she in?" I ask, my voice low.
Leslie cocks her head to the side, a questioning expression swimming in her brown eyes. "What's wrong, sweetie? Do I have to pull Irina out of her meeting? Because if it's an emergency, she'll come running down instantly."
I huff and roll my eyes. "I seriously doubt that," I mutter.
"What's wrong?" she repeats.
"You don't know, do you?" Of course, Irina hasn't told anyone about what happened. "She cheated on me, with a fucking client. And she basically made me homeless. I'm lucky I get to stay with one of my colleagues."
The look on Leslie's face is priceless. Yes. I told her about the client part of the disaster because Irina deserves to suffer the consequences of her actions.
"S-she, what?!"
I shrug, lean against the counter. "Is she in, or not? Because I need to talk to her… Need to settle some shit, retrieve my fucking money."
"Yeah, she's in a meeting but I'll pull her out for you. I can't believe this, you guys were so perfect together."
"Perfection doesn't exist, Leslie."
"What are you doing here?" She's breathless, looks flawless in all-white, her hair up in a bun. Her eyes flutter to the floor-to-ceiling windows of the conference room she came out of. I wave politely to the partners around the big, impressive oak table and turn around, a look of pure and utter disgust on my face as Irina drags me around the corner by my elbow.
"Don't fucking touch me," I spit. She looks taken aback, holding her up her hands in surrender, but I don't back down. "I want my money."
"Your money? What money?" she asks, head shaking. Her perfect demeanor cracks. She knows what I'm talking about.
"The money I have tied up in that fucking apartment. The money I invested. Buy me out," I demand. Yes, I've been talking to a lawyer of my own.
"Buy you out? We're not married, Rosalie." She's mocking me, eyes trailing down my body — halting at my chest, suspicion in her eyes.
"Thank fuck we're not," I huff.
"Your name's not even on the mortgage, you can't make me do anything." Fuck, she's cold. So fucking cold.
"I have proof that I invested, Irina. You know I do…" I'm not even bluffing.
"Want me to drag your ass to court? So you can play out your little wounded puppy act?" She cocks her head to the side, eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"You come here, obviously freshly fucked and reeking of a guy? And then you play the victim?"
I laugh. It's loud, but I can't help myself.
"Freshly fucked? I haven't been fucked since we fucked in the shower that one night. Remember that, when your girlfriend went down on you?" I play dirty, cross my arms in front of my chest before I continue. "I meant me, of course. Not your precious new girlfriend you cheated on me with. I bet you've gotten fucked a ton since I left, haven't you?"
"I'm moving anyway…" she says, suddenly. "I made partner so I want to be closer to the firm." I arch a brow. Bitch is literally gloating about her pay raise in my face while all my savings are tied up in that fucking condo.
"So sell it. Give me back my money so I can at least move out of my colleague's place."
"Ah, roomies… fun. Very trashy," she says, chuckling. "Then again, you're a mechanic so…"
"Fuck you, Irina. Pay me back or you'll fucking regret it."
It took my lawyer four days to get her signature on a slip of paper, promising me my half of the money when she succeeds in selling the place. I was ecstatic and decided to take my roommates out for a drink that Thursday night. Emmett decided to drive since he was the only one working that Friday. Friday. My belly tingles at the thought of my plan.
"Guys, come on!" I'm a little tipsy by the time we order some hot wings in the sports bar. I'm begging both Jasper and Emmett to get us some shots, but they both claim I'd regret that in the morning.
"Ro, you need to eat something," Emmett chuckles. He hands me the plate of wings, and I narrow my eyes at him when I take one, the spicy sauce smelling like pure heaven.
"Why?" I wonder, licking my lips before I attack the chicken, watching his blue eyes turn stormy until Jasper clears his throat. It's only then I hear it, too, the ringing of my phone. My hands are covered in sauce, so I badger Jasper into answering it as I lick the hot sauce off my sticky fingers. Emmett throws me a wad of napkins after he's done the same, a delicious blush on his handsome face that makes me swallow hard as he puts his drink to his lips.
"Yeah, this is Rose's phone." Jasper looks a bit odd, his face morphing into something out of a cartoon, as if a talking dog just told him he'd hung the moon. "That's great, I'll make sure to tell her."
Jasper hangs up and flings my phone back in my bag next to him on the bench.
"Motherfucking bitch already paid you back." His smile is infectious and I gasp.
"No fucking way," I mutter.
"Bring it in, babe." Jasper turns and opens his arms. I'm reluctant, but I know this guy. He's good, he's proper, so I lean in and hug him. I'm shaking happy shakes, and watch Emmett as I lean my head against Jasper's shoulder.
"Save some love for me, will you?" Emmett jokes. I let go of Jasper and moveto the opposite bench of our booth. I fling myself onto Emmett, who falls back against the window with his back. His hands caress my bare arms, my chest crushed against his so tightly I swear I can feel his rapid heartbeat.
"Congrats on winning from the cheating whore, Ro," he whispers, before kissing the edge of my jaw. It sets me aflame, melts my doubts, but I tell myself to be patient.
Friday.
Tomorrow.
It's only a few more hours until tomorrow, Rose.
I'm trying to reason with myself, but I can't help it. The alcohol makes me a little braver, and I kiss him — right on the lips. He answers with a gasp and groans when I push against him, forgetting the world; forgetting Jasper; the bar. Shit.
I know for sure now… Emmett isn't easy, yet he's comfortable. He's not a rebound, but the man who makes me see my worth, makes me feel desire and like I am desirable.
Yes, Rose… tomorrow…
Rose's got a plan ... Whatever could that be?