When With Rome (Perfect Gentlemen Book 1)

by Natalie Gayle

  I push my sunglasses up off my face, then do the same with hers. Carlene’s open, honest eyes will tell me the truth.

  “I understand that. I guess this morning made me realize you probably need time to call people, do what you need to do in your life outside of this. It must feel like being in a cage, and I’m sorry I didn’t consider it earlier. I was too swept up. I forgot for a little while, I’m just a client.”

  Her words cut at me far more than they should—an ugly reminder of what I’ve been inadvertently trying to forget.

  And right here, is another moment, when I hate this job.

  I want nothing more than to haul her into my arms and tell her it isn’t so. Tell her she means more to me than just money. Carlene can never be a cold, hard business transaction to me. There’s something deeper, warmer about her, about us together—never just business.

  But it will also be a lie to say it isn’t about the money. Money has made our time together possible. After all, it brought us together.

  “Being with you doesn’t feel like being in a cage, Oz. In fact, the opposite. It’s been great, and I hope it stays exactly the same. You’re special, Oz.”

  Her eyes grow warm at my words, and a little breath puffs out in a tiny sigh.

  “I’ve enjoyed every minute of being with you, far more than I could ever expect to. And I don’t want you to worry about monopolizing my time. You’re not. I don’t have anything pressing that needs my attention. Everything at home is under control and nobody is expecting me to check in.

  “My parents live in Florida, and I probably see them twice a year, if we’re lucky. They have issues with how I earn my living. I have no brothers or sisters, and I certainly don’t have a significant other I need to worry about.”

  The closest thing I have to family on the West Coast is Roxie. She’s an employee, a close friend, and the family I choose in a purely platonic way. My home is a modest house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. I don’t even have a pet.

  But I can’t tell her any of this. So I go with escort speak. “I may need to take a few calls. I’ve had an unexpected business matter pop up. I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t cut into our time together or plans. I appreciate your understanding. I know the call threw you, and you started thinking. Stop. Live in the moment. For the duration of the trip, there’s nobody else, just you and me. I just want to go back to how we were before the call.”

  Her head nods slowly in agreement. What I said is reasonable, but we both know it’s only as much of the truth as the situation allows.

  Rules, they’re a necessary evil, to keep both the client and myself safe. Carlene understands and respects that, doesn’t mean either of us have to like it. I lean forward and lower my mouth to hers. I can’t give her the words and the truth I want to but I can give her this.

  She tilts her head up and waits for me to slowly join my lips to hers. It’s a slow, soft kiss of understanding and unspoken words. One that portrays the truth of what words between us can’t. My body is as real as I can get—through it I can tell the truth, and I hope she can read it in my kiss and believe me.

  Carlene presses closer to me, and I drop her hand to wrap my arms around her. Why does she have to feel so right against my body? I fear letting her go is going to be hell.

  Our lips part, and rather than pull back, I place her cheek on my chest, and I drop my chin to the top of her head.

  I need to take my own advice and stay in the moment, even if I’m becoming more and more tied up with feeling so foreign to me. I don’t think I’m going to want to let her go.

  Don’t mix business and pleasure…

  Really, how ironic when you’re in the business of providing pleasure?

  Carlene

  I said what I wanted to say and gave him the option. I can’t do more than that. If he has troubles needing his attention, then I’ve given him the opportunity to address them. It’s up to him if he decides to act on the option or not.

  Just like it’s up to me if I’m going to enjoy the remainder of our time together or dwell on the thoughts which have plagued me since Rome took the call.

  With words, he tried to sell me on the concept. Then why does his kisses feel like something very different? What is the truth?

  Stay in the moment.

  That is my new mantra.

  Enjoy every second of the here and now.

  Soak up the experience and leave the thinking until after our time together has passed. It isn’t as if I have anything pressing to do once I leave the US. I have a long plane ride and a non-existent business or social calendar. Surely, there will be time to figure out what I want to do in all that nothingness?

  “Come on, let’s go and check out the drum bridge or half- moon bridge—it’s freaky,” Rome urges, gently adjusting my sunglasses back over my eyes before dropping his own back into position.

  His hand slips into mine like it’s the most natural thing in the world and we head for the crazy looking bridge which seems to defy all logic and rationale. As we get closer, I realize the bridge is more like an architectural feat. There aren’t stair treads, rather it looks to be a cross between an old-style water wheel and a ladder! Pieces of timber are placed like rungs over the rounded structure.

  The closer I get, the more my mind starts to boggle at how I’m going to scale it. Somehow, we seem to have missed the crowds, at least that’s something. There won’t be anyone around to see me fall flat on my backside.

  “Are you sure we’re allowed to climb it?” I ask skeptically.

  “Of course, we can climb it. In fact, it’s designed like this to specifically slow us down and put us in the right frame of mind to enjoy the tea house that’s on the other side. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

  I glance at the bridge again and feel intimidated by its weird structure. “Well, it’s definitely achieved its intent. I’m slooow.”

  He gives me a light tug on the hand. “Come on. It’s easy.” Rome powers up the rungs with me in tow. Before I realize, we’re pausing at the top to survey the beauty of the gardens from the higher vantage point.

  “I thought it was beautiful before…”

  “These gardens are just magical. One of my favorite places in San Fran. Wait until I take you to see the redwood trees. There’s a magic and a tranquility, you just have to experience to believe. This is special and unique. The redwood forest is different. It’s kind of all encapsulating. You’ll understand when you experience it.”

  “I can’t wait. I really prefer these sorts of sights to the typical man-made tourist things. I love experiencing the more natural sights.”

  Rome nudges me with his shoulder affectionately. “You’re not much of a shopper either, I’ve discovered.”

  “I mostly hate shopping!”

  He chuckles, and his mouth remains in a playful grin. “So not like a woman! There is, however, a little shopping experience I want you to have later. Will you permit me this liberty, my lady?” He gives me a sweeping bow a la English gent style.

  I make a performance out of eying him suspiciously. “Mmmm, tell me more.”

  “Nope, that’s not how it works. You just need to trust me on this. Can you do that?”

  I immediately know I can and do trust him, however that wasn’t part of the little scene we’re playing out.

  “I suppose so. You aren’t going to make me do anything too weird, are you?” Making him work for it is fun and besides, I’m not quite sure how far Rome will go. I know his life experience is FAR wider than mine.

  “I promise you, you’ll love it.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him. “Rome, it’s shopping. How can it be fun?”

  “It just will be. I’ll make it fun.”

  There’s only one thing to do. I let out a huge sigh as if it is the most tiresome thing I’m going to have to do. “I suppose I can tolerate a little shopping with a sales pitch like that.”

  “Wow, you’re tough, Oz.” He laughs and plants a kiss on the top of m
y head.

  For the first time since climbing to the top of the very peculiar bridge, I look forward and realize I am going to have to get down off it, somehow.

  Panic runs through me.

  “Umm, Rome. Without stating the obvious, but how on earth do we get down? My parkour skills aren’t what they used to be. In fact, I don’t ever recall doing parkour and getting off here looks like I’m going to need some of those skills.”

  He moves us closer to the descent and even more dread races through me. We aren’t that high up, but the angle of the descent is ridiculous and totally foreign to anything I’ve ever been on before.

  “Right, you stay there, and I’ll hop down then help you.”

  “I didn’t realize I had a problem with heights, but this bridge is doing my head in!”

  “Now she tells me!” he jokes.

  He moves to the edge and nimbly makes it down to terra firma in a few graceful moves.

  “I’m not joking. That descent is freaking me out.” Without conscious thought, I start to lower my backside to the timber deck of the bridge. I sit with my knees hauled to my chest, looking over the edge—frozen.

  I can’t see how I can get down without going splat! Bridge, it’s more like an oversized barrel. Well derrr, Carlene. Following Rome blindly into all sorts of “adventures” is becoming a habit. I only hope this one has a happy ending like all our other adventures have.

  I take a deep breath and look to the ground. If I have to go over the edge, I’ll be doing it with my center of gravity as low as possible. Like very low! Right now, my pride doesn’t give a toss about looking like a big scardy cat.

  He looks up at me from his place on the ground and steps up a couple of rungs.

  “Turn around and go down backwards like it’s a ladder. Hang onto the railing. I’m right here, I won’t let you fall.”

  My heart is pounding wildly in my chest.

  I’m being ridiculous. It can’t be more than ten feet to the ground. The angles just look all wrong to my eyes. It doesn’t make sense to my brain.

  The railing is warm from the sun as I grip it firmly and turn around. Very cautiously, I step one foot down to the top rung.

  “That’s it. You’re doing great.”

  As I move down one further step, I feel Rome’s hand cup my backside, and somehow, I can breathe easier again.

  “Just a couple more steps, beautiful.”

  The last couple of steps are easy with him right there with me.

  And just like that, I’m back on the ground.

  I look up at where I’ve come down from and feel like the biggest fool.

  “I’m sorry…”

  He circles an arm around my shoulders reassuringly, and we head to the Tea House.

  “Don’t be. You said it yourself, sometimes the mind plays tricks on us when it’s presented with something strange or new. It’s quite an optical illusion.”

  Heights are not my favorite thing, but I live in a high-rise apartment and have no issue at all spending time on or looking over the balcony from the top of the building.

  “I can’t say I love heights, but I’ve never had a response like that.”

  He shrugs. “Just a weird sort of vertigo. Don’t worry about it.”

  Easy for him to say. No, I’m not worried about it. More annoyed with myself for having such a crazy mental block about something as simple as getting off a bridge.

  I’m still stewing on it when Rome stops and brings my attention back to the water.

  “Look at that. The bridge makes the reflection of a full circle in the water.”

  It’s remarkable. The simple yet complex nature of the structure casts such a beautiful shadow.

  The circle is perfect—no beginning or end.

  Just like everything else in the garden. Structured, without looking rigid. Considered, without looking contrite.

  The balance is exactly right and the energy just flows.

  A perfect state of order and balance of natural and man- made structures.

  I wonder if it’s possible to achieve that same balance in my own life. Or am I chasing the mythical unicorn?

  Standing here in the garden, soaking it all in, gives me the spark to want to try.

  Chapter 13

  Carlene

  “Where are you taking me, Rome?” My voice holds both anticipation and the edge of anxiety I feel.

  We’re entering a lingerie store like none I’ve ever been in. It’s one of those boutique stores you only see in the movies. The totally over the top, fancy type. The sort only famous people and the ultra-wealthy frequent.

  “Time for a little luxury, Oz.”

  If I’d been discombobulated on the drum bridge, then this store is throwing me for a total loop, and I’ve only just walked in the door. He can’t be serious, surely?

  “I don’t belong here, Rome. I think Walmart would be more my speed.” I grab him by the elbow and discretely try to haul him back out the door, only to find he’s become an immovable object.

  Instead of us making a hasty retreat, he leans in and whispers. “Shh, sweetheart. This boutique is perfect for what I have in mind.”

  I glance around at all the skimpy lace, satin, and silk and feel like the proverbial fish out of water.

  “Rome, there are pieces of lingerie in here that I can’t even name, let alone wear,” I hiss.

  He chuckles quietly beside my ear. “Good thing you’re with me then, because I just happen to be a lingerie connoisseur.”

  A perfectly groomed woman approaches us. Her blonde hair is in an up-style somehow defying gravity, her makeup flawless, and her slender body encased in an ivory silk blouse and black pencil skirt. I have no doubt she could have modelled any piece of this overpriced lace and made it look exactly like the designer intended.

  “Good afternoon, my name is Helena. Can I help you with your selection?”

  Before I have a chance to open my mouth and say, “thank you very much, but we’re just looking,” Rome jumps right in.

  “Thank you, Helena. My name is Rome, and this is the special lady in my life, Carlene. We’d like to do a little shopping this afternoon.”

  Special lady!

  God, he’s smooth. So, smooth. I’d believe it, if I didn’t know the truth.

  “Of course, Rome, I’d be delighted to help you both. What did you have in mind?”

  “I’d like to see Carlene in something very feminine, provocative, but still elegant and classy. Do you think you could help with that?”

  Helena gives me an appraising look, and to her credit, somehow she manages to finish with a warm smile, which makes me feel not completely like this is a fool’s mission.

  “Carlene, I have a few pieces in mind, I think you’ll not only love, but will look stunning on you. Why don’t I set you up in the dressing room and bring them to you?”

  I watch her eyes closely as she addresses me. What surprises me is, I’m sure her intent is sincere. For all her poise and elegance, she didn’t try to put me down when it’s obvious I’m far from the normal cliental of this boutique.

  Helena gestures for us to follow her.

  “Rome, it’s going to cost a fortune,” I hiss at him. “I could buy ten years supply of underwear for what one set here is going to cost.”

  He grins and whispers into my ear. “Just a small fortune, and trust me, it will be worth every penny. Every woman deserves to feel sexy in her lingerie. Plus, you need to be spoiled occasionally. Please give me the pleasure of being the man to do it for you.”

  How can I refuse him? Coming into this boutique, I realize, is something he’s thought about, considered. He knows exactly what’s available and what to expect here. He’s planned this.

  The practical side of me wars with the woman wanting to grow and expand her horizons. To Rome, he’s giving me another experience, and hadn’t I agreed a couple of days ago to let Rome be in charge of all my experiences?

  It’s going to be weird, but at least Helena h
asn’t made me feel uncomfortable.

  She leads us to the back of the boutique. A false wall has thoughtfully been placed to obscure the identity of any customers in the dressing rooms.

  Behind the false wall are three ornately paneled doors. If they’d been anywhere but in this boutique, they would have looked gaudy and ridiculous. Somehow, here they add to the plush opulence of the whole experience. Against the rear-side of the false wall is a blush-colored velvet chaise lounge. A massive beveled edged mirror takes up most of the side wall.

  “A dressing room for you, Carlene.” Helena opens the door almost with a flourish. Inside is not at all what I expect.

  The dressing room is more the size of a large bedroom. One wall is mirrored and a wing backed chair upholstered in the same blush-colored velvet as the lounge outside fills a corner. A Japanese dividing screen with an exquisite print of a cherry blossom tree in bloom conceals the opposite corner.

  I’ve never seen anything like it, nor imagined there could be places like this.

  “Can I offer you both a drink? Champagne, perhaps?”

  This time, I manage to find my tongue. “Champagne would be lovely.” Maybe the bubbles will give me the Dutch courage I need to go through with this. One thing has become very evident, Rome is expecting me to model this lingerie for him. My heart thumps at double time in my chest, and my stomach is tight with uncertainty.

  “I’ll take a Champagne as well, Helena. Carlene has developed quite a taste for it this trip.” He tosses a knowing smile my way.

  “Is that an Australian accent I picked up?” she asks, addressing me.

  “You’ve got a good ear. I’m an Australian.”