The Good And The Bad (Rated M)

Mr. Mills scratched the back of his neck as he gazed over the group of women standing right in front of him. They had gathered around to receive and process the impact of the news as a whole. Rose searched for Winifred's eyes. They did not meet her but stared straight at the floor. There was no sadness or any form of defeated emption to be found within her gaze. They were glistening, or so Rose thought.

"If you have any questions, I'll be in my office." Mr. Mills turned his back to his employees and disappeared through his door. The muttering then started to turn into loud chatter. Most had fallen into the bubble of gossip; others had started to discuss their plans for the weekend. Rose stood alone in the crowd of women she had somewhat befriended over the months she had been working there. They were supposed to be one group of solidarity, but it was during moments like this that she couldn't feel lonelier. She had never been able to handle news of death too well; the way she wasn't able to speak for over a week. Only, Rose was certain that the sinking had made it worse. To watch how people plunged to their ending; their bodies slowly starting to become coated with a blanket of ice. The way she had once longed for her own end as she hovered above the waves in pure desperation.

A shiver ran down her spine as she made her way towards her desk. The usual piles of paper were patiently waiting to be translated. Rose sat down, pulled her typewriter closer to her chest and felt her fingers trace over the keys.

"Miss Cartmell?" The sudden voice behind her back made Rose gasp for air. She turned around and looked straight into the dark eyes of Mr. Mills, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's all right, sir."

"I was just wondering if I could speak with you for a minute."

Rose nodded her head and followed the man towards his office. "I am really sorry about Mrs. Tillman, sir." She said as she closed the door behind her.

"We all knew it was about to happen one day. The way that woman lived her life, I am surprised she made it to this age. But now I don't have a secretary anymore." He looked at her once again before signing her to sit down, "You are a good worker, miss Cartmell. You've shown me and the others that you are capable of many things."

"Thank you, sir."

"So, what do you think?"

"Think of what?"

"Becoming my new secretary."

Rose's eyes widened as she leaned back in her chair.

"It's a good position," Mr. Mills quickly filled up the silence between them, "pays a lot more than the job you have now."

"I understand, sir. Not to be rude, but I am quite stunned by this offer. I don't know what to say."

Mr. Mills chuckled before lightning a cigar. The warm and bitter smoke prickled Rose's flushed cheeks. "I am hoping you're about to say "yes", but I'll give you two days to decide."

As Rose left his office, she quickened her pace and rushed over to Winifred's desk. Winifred raised an eyebrow as looked at what seemed like an overwhelmed Rose leaning forward.

"Are you so undone by the news, Rose?" Winifred asked, "Let me tell you that that woman lived like a bohemian with death ready to take her at any moment."

"No," Rose shook her head heavily, "That's not it. Mr. Mills just offered me the job of becoming his secretary."

Winifred stopped typing. Her body stiffened. "What?" she stated.

"I am yet to give him an answer. I don't know why he would want me, but do you think I should accept his offer?"

Winifred remained silent, stood up from her chair and disappeared inside of the room Rose had just come out of. She tried to listen to the words that were being spoken behind the walls, but there was only the loud and angry tone of Winifred's voice that made it clear that the situation was more complicated than she could have anticipated.

Later that evening, after Rose had put Cora underneath her covers, she longed for clarity. Meeting Winifred in the kitchen, the two women did not look one another in the eye.

Rose sighed. "I can sense that you're bothered by what happened this afternoon."

"His secretary died the other day, and he has already offered you her position?"

"Yes. That is basically it." Rose watched how Winifred forcefully put her glass back into the sink. It made her uneasy and she could feel her body tense up. "Is there a problem Winifred?"

"I just find it strange that he asked you. Other girls have worked longer for the company than you."

"Listen Winifred, if you want the job yourself you should go to Mr. Mills and tell him. He only asked me. I haven't accepted anything yet."

Winifred did not respond and left her in alone in the kitchen as the winter cold entered through the cracks of the house. Rose shivered and listened how her roommate ran up the stairs and shut her door with a force that made her realize there was form of rather extreme anger laying underneath the whole situation.

Loneliness did not last for long as Bernice joined her in the darkness. For the first time in a while, she was not covered in makeup, and she was wearing a simple woolen skirt with a blouse and a checkered cardigan.

"Jesus Christ, can we at least put on some candles. I can't even see my own feet!"

"Sorry." Rose quickly shot back to reality and lit up the room. "You don't have to go to work tonight?"

"No," Bernice groaned, "I've got something down there and now I am not allowed to work until it's gone. The man who put me up with it is in shambles with his wife, that bastard. But he did give me this…" she opened one of the cabinets and pulled out an unopened bottle of scotch, "you want some?"

"Please." Rose dropped her body down onto one of the chairs. "I am starting to believe everyone has had a bad day."

"I bet. But Winifred shouldn't be acting like a spoiled child not getting what she wants. Even after what she did."

"So, she told you what happened."

"Yes." Winifred said.

"I can sense that she is mad at me," Rose stated, "but I have no idea what I did wrong. He approached me."

"You really don't know why she seems so peeved about this all, Rose?"

Rose shook her head, making Bernice grined for a second before she slowly started to spread her legs. It was too subtle for Rose to notice it at first but as Bernice sat in front of her with her legs wide open and her hand moving towards her thigh, a gasp fell from her lips.

"No, it can't be," Rose hissed, "Mr. Mills?"

"He had offered her the job a while back in exchange for some favors. But as time went on, he never gave it to her. Now that his former secretary is dead, I believe Winifred simply expected to get the job."

"Good gracious. No wonder she is angry."

"It's childish if you ask me. At least I am honest about the kind of work I do. And I bet you earned that position in an honest way."

Rose nodded her head as she grabbed the bottle of scotch and poured them both another glass. "The only thing I do is sit behind that typewriter and fill my brain with words of French and German. It's a wonder I am still able to speak English."

Bernice looked at Rose for a few seconds as if she was trying to pull something out of her. It felt intense, even threatening for a moment. "Where did you even learn to speak all those languages."

"School." Rose simply responded as she felt her throat tighten. Still, after almost two years of living in this house and the trust she had in the girls, there was still no strength within her to tell them the truth. They could never know the truth. As a six-year-old girl she leaned over her books whilst her governess hovered above her frame with her warm breath blowing against her neck. Young Rose was thus scared of the woman and her stick that she slept with her books underneath her pillow and slightly tapped them against her head whenever she had the chance. Fear had turned her into the educated woman society expected her to be. Yet, her fair share of knowledge was only seen as ticket to a bright future with a wealthy husband. University was not seen as a place to ripen your mind, but to fall into the place of domestic prison. And for Rose, there had already been a place reserved in that prison before she could set her first step onto the property of Harvard.

Bernice chuckled. "I guess you were one of those very dedicated and eager students."

Only a short and simple yes fell from her lips.

After a night without any proper sleep and contemplating the pros and cons of her new job offer, Rose headed straight to Mr. Mills' office. His presence felt different after she had learned about his intentions towards Winifred, but she was able to block it. There was one big motivator for Rose to go through with it. A motivator she did not dare to say out loud. Money. The only way to achieve more freedom than she already had. Watching Cora grow day by day, she could only dream of giving the child her own room. And now there was a chance by working for it and not relying on ghosts from the past she was not able to get rid of. The Heart Of The Ocean was kept far away enough from anyone to ever find it. The object that would betray her hard work and its possibilities of throwing her back into the depths of despair. Therefore, it had to be hidden. Forever.

Hard work it was for Rose to master new skills that would hopefully give her a brighter future. Days were longer, piles of work higher and colleagues had started their fair share of gossip. After weeks of giving it her all, Mr. Mils had given her one compliment and Winifred had stopped talking to her all together. Even at home she pretended as if Rose did not exist no longer. Now there was a new form of pain she had to learn to live with.

….

"Of course, Mr. Jones. I'll tell him first thing in the morning." Rose put the telephone back on the hook and rushed to collect all her belongings. By the time she arrived at school, she was already an hour late.

"Cora!" Rose waved at her before she crossed the road. "I am so sorry I am late." She hugged the young girl tight and kissed the top of her head.

"We were starting to get worried, miss Cartmell." A voice spoke from behind her. As Rose looked over her shoulder, she met Frank Rodger's dark brown eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

"Mr. Rodger, I cannot express how thankful I am that you waited with her. I don't know how to thank you."

He smiled at her and shook his head. "You can thank me by calling me Frank. We've known each other for a while now." then his face turned serious, "are you doing all right?"

"I forgot about the time at work."

"You're working as secretary now, am I correct?"

"You remembered?"

"Of course I remember the things you tell me."

Yet, Rose barely recalled telling him about it. After their first encounter, they had seen each other multiple times inside and outside of the classroom. First the two of them only exchanged gazes, soon followed by friendly conversation. Frank Rodgers was a single father who lost his wife four years prior during childbirth. Despite the ongoing decency of his life together with his son, it had been rather lonely, and the man longed for a friendly face to properly talk to. Rose seemed to be the perfect match for that desire.

She let out a nervous laugh as she scratched the back of her neck. Cora had already taken hold of her hand, signing that she wanted to leave. "I am sorry for being in such a rush. But again, thank you so much for staying with her. It won't happen again."

"You're welcome, Rose." He smiled and let them pass through. He watched them until they were far away enough, but not too far not to hear him.

"Rose?" Frank quickly spoke before it would be too late.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me."

….

She glanced at her reflection once more and sighed loudly. Something felt off about the way she looked, yet Rose was unable to detect the error. She could only feel it. Bernice and Doreen then entered the room, both dropping down onto the bed and smiling brightly.

"You look beautiful, Rose," Doreen said, "Mr. Rodgers won't be able to take his eyes off of you."

"Is he going to propose?"

"What?!" Rose turned around with such force that a strand of hair undid itself from her updo, "No, no, no. I am simply going to have dinner with him. Nothing more."

"Oh, but wouldn't it be wonderful if he were to ask you to marry him. Think about the life you could live."

With trembling hands, Rose collected her purse, ignoring the comments of her friends. A quick goodbye and she was out the door. Frank lived just a block away from the children's school in a house twice the size of her own. He had already seen her walking up towards the front door and carefully opened it.

"You look beautiful, Rose." He spoke out once she had entered. Taking her coat, he led her into the living room where he had already put down two glasses and an expensive bottle of wine. Rose looked around for a moment before sitting down. The interior was light and romantic; a way a man would have never been able to create by himself.

"Collette was really good in creating the perfect ambiance in a room. I haven't dared to change anything since her passing." Frank admitted.

"And you shouldn't. Your house looks wonderful, Frank. It really does."

Frank smiled "Thank you," he sat down next to her, "It has taken me all the courage inside of me to ask you to have dinner with me."

"Am I really that scary?" Rose chuckled.

"Your companionship over the past months has done me good, Rose. I haven't met anyone in a long time who actually listens to what I have to say."

"People are too occupied with themselves these days. It truly is a shame."

He nodded his head. "How are you managing your new work?"

"I have a lot to learn, but I like a challenge. My only problem is that I haven't been taking good care of Cora." She twirled her wine around in her glass.

"You take care of her all by yourself?"

"Yes. I mean, we live at home with three other women who help me out a lot, but I am her main caretaker."

"No other family around to help you out?"

Rose shook her head.

"Well, I could have guessed hearing your northern accent."

"I'm sorry?" Rose bit her lips.

"I have cousins who are from Pennsylvania as well."

For a second, she believed she could taste blood in her mouth. "I am not from Pennsylvania," she murmured, "I am from Oklahoma."

"Really? I thought I was correct from hearing your accent, but I just need to stop making assumptions about anyone and anything."

Luckily, Rose managed to dodge any other questions about the history of her life. The two now simply shared each other's company with a full three coursed dinner. She watched inventively how Frank slaved himself away in the kitchen. His presence brisked up something inside of her. A feeling which she had never experienced before. It felt fiery and wild, almost scandalous in a way. Interactive looks of lust until the clock announced it was time to go. Rose thanked him generously for the evening as he led her back to the front door. She turned around one final time as she stood in the doorway. A gush of wind made her shiver and before Rose managed to comprehend his action, she was back inside and being held in his arms.

He placed his lips onto hers forcefully yet passionately. Rose could only respond by kissing him back, as if her body had taken over without letting her mind think first. She pushed the door closed behind her, locking herself back into the house. In the meantime, Frank's hands traveled down her whole body. They were both breathing heavily, taking in each other's scent. Before Rose was able to comprehend what was happening further, they were already upstairs, bursting into Frank's bedroom.

"You are so goddamn beautiful." He moaned as he started undoing her dress. Within seconds their clothes were scattered all over the floor, their bodies now intertwined on his bed. She felt his strong body moving on top of her. Her hands caressed his muscles until she felt him enter her. A gasp escaped her lips and she clenched onto his shoulders. They moved in sync, their pace becoming faster as the seconds passed. Rose noticed not only herself, but the whole space getting hotter. In this heat and ongoing passion, she was being wanted, perhaps even being loved. Being loved had slowly started to turn in to a wish that could not be granted. Perhaps this was it. Or perhaps…it was an illusion.

Frank let out a loud groan before he collapsed back onto the bed.

It was all an illusion.

He let out a deep breath and gently kissed her forehead. Rose remained in the same position with the warmth slowly leaving her body. It was now starting to turn cold. She tried desperately to focus her attention on the carvings on the ceiling, but Franks breathing made it impossible for her to concentrate.

"That was great." Frank sighed in satisfaction. And as she let his words sink in, Rose burst out in tears.