by Suzie Nelson
“Ha,” Rosie laughed, unconvinced. “We’ll see about that.”
“I’ll pick you up?”
Rosie shook her head. “I’ll meet you there,” she said. She didn’t want him anywhere near her house. “And I have to be home early.”
“Sure, sure, okay. And it’s my treat.”
“Obviously. The only way I’m spending time with you is if I’m paid for it,” she joked.
“Ouch, doc,” Lewis smiled. “You can be mean, has anyone ever told you that?”
“It’s tough love,” she replied, making him laugh.
***
Later that night, Rosie was sitting at the bar of an upscale restaurant downtown and feeling very uneasy. She was a confident woman and didn’t often feel like she didn’t belong somewhere but, looking around the dim lounge with its tables dotted here and there with celebrities, she’d never felt more out of place. That, coupled with the prospect of having a drink with Lewis, was giving her stomach pains already. Trying not to let her nervousness show, she crossed her legs in the opposite direction, a nervous habit she’d had all her life.
“Looking for someone?” the bartender asked, looking down his nose at her. He clearly thought she was here to spot a star, even though it was guest list only.
Rosie shook her head emphatically. “Waiting for someone,” she replied. “And not of my own free will.”
The bartender raised his eyebrows. “Well, that’ll be a first here,” he said. “Most people are thrilled to get on the list.”
“Well, I’m not most people,” Rosie replied.
He gave her a once over, taking in her slender legs, dark, glossy hair, and tailored yellow dress. “No,” he said, with a growing smile, “I can see that.”
Rosie chuckled, but her expression abruptly soured as Lewis appeared in the entrance. “Here goes nothing,” she muttered as he caught sight of her and made his way across the room.
“You’re waiting for him?” the bartender asked incredulously. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t really seem like his type.”
“That’s because I’m not,” Rosie replied. “Like I said, I’m here under duress.”
The bartender nodded. “Do you want your drinks extra strong or extra light?” he asked.
She flashed him a grateful smile. “Thanks,” she said, “but normal’s fine. It’ll only be one drink.”
“It’s never just one drink,” said the bartender.
“You made it,” Lewis grinned at her as he reached the bar.
“It wasn’t that hard to find,” she replied stiffly.
“I thought maybe you’d back out at the last minute,” he said.
Rosie shook her head. “When’s the next time I’ll be on the guest list for this place? Gotta take advantage of that when I can.”
“Oh, I see. You just came for the ambiance.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t come for the company,” Rosie shot back, only half joking. Lewis was dressed in a well-fitted, deep green shirt that brought out the green flecks in his hazel eyes and accentuated his muscular shoulders. It suited him and Rosie didn’t like that she liked it. All of which made her grumpy.
“Ouch, man, you’re gonna give me a complex,” said Lewis, putting a hand on his heart.
Rosie rolled her eyes. “A few insults from me are hardly going to let all the hot air out of your bloated head, Lewis, don’t worry.”
The bartender watched this exchange with bated breath, waiting for the baseball star to lose his temper and lash out. To his surprise, Lewis just laughed.
“Okay, okay, I surrender,” said Lewis, holding up his hands. “What are you having?”
“G&T,” Rosie replied.
Lewis wrinkled his nose. “What are you? 90? Gross. One G&T and a rum and coke,” he said to the bartender.
“The house G&T comes with mint and cucumber,” the bartended told Rosie. “Want to try it? Or would you rather play it safe?”
Rosie smiled. “Let’s go wild,” she said. “Bring on the vegetables.”
The bartender nodded. “It’ll be right out.”
Tired of sharing her with the bartender, Lewis tugged on Rosie’s elbow. “Let’s go grab a table,” he said.
Rosie nodded, smiling goodbye at the bartender as Lewis led her into one of the darker corners of the bar.
“You sure it’s dark enough back here?” she joked as they settled into a cozy booth.
Lewis eyed her. “I can get them to dim the lights a bit more, if you want. But I figured you’d want to be able to admire how good this shirt makes me look,” he replied with a devilish grin.
Rosie laughed and shook her head. “Like I said: a hopeless case.”
“Don’t say that,” said Lewis. “I’m really not.”
“I’ll believe you when you stop hitting on me,” Rosie replied.
Lewis nodded. “Okay, fine. I can do that.”
Rosie raised her eyebrows.
“It’s just…you know you’re really beautiful, though, right?” he asked.
“I’m also extremely smart, loyal, trilingual, and hilarious,” Rosie shot back.
Lewis laughed. “Okay, yes. Sorry.” Then he frowned, “Trilingual?”
Rosie nodded. “Spanish, Portuguese, and English. My dad was from Brazil, and my mom was from Puerto Rico.”
“Huh,” Lewis looked impressed. “My Nona was from Naples, but I never learned Italian.”
“That’s usually how it goes.” She almost mentioned that she was teaching Angelo to speak Spanish and Portuguese as well but quickly bit her tongue. The last thing she wanted was Lewis knowing about Angelo. She didn’t want him near her son.
The bartender brought their drinks and, like in their sessions, they began to banter, throwing barbs back and forth as their conversation wandered from topic to topic. Nobody was more surprised than Rosie when she realized that she was actually enjoying herself. Before she knew it, the bartender was bringing the third round, and she was beginning to feel the alcohol.
“What time is it?” she asked Lewis as the bartender left them.
“Just about midnight,” he replied, checking his watch.
“That late?” Rosie gasped. “Shit, I should really go.”
Lewis frowned. “Who are you? Cinderella? We just got another round. Sit down and enjoy it, Rosie.” His hand closed around her upper arm, gently tugging her back down.
“I really should be going,” said Rosie softly. His fingers were soft on the sensitive skin of her inner arm.
“In a minute,” said Lewis. “When we’re done these drinks. Just to make sure that three isn’t the lucky number that turns me into a wild man.”
Rosie smiled at the joke. His hand still hadn’t left her arm and, she realized with a start, their knees were touching under the table. Lewis shifted slightly so that their thighs pressed against one another. Rosie swallowed, looking over at the baseball star, who now seemed very close. “Okay,” she whispered, her eyes on his, “just one more drink.”
Lewis smiled. For a long moment, they just looked at each other in silence. Then Lewis leaned forward and kissed her.
Rosie closed her eyes, the feel of his warm mouth on hers sending shivers all the way through her. Without meaning to, she moaned softly, her mouth opening to allow his tongue in. Her hands came up to his dark hair, her nails trailing between his thick curls. His free hand slid under the table to grip her thigh, his thumb stroking her delicate skin. It had been a long time since Rosie had enjoyed a simple kiss so much.
Then she came back to her senses. “Shit,” she said, pulling away from him. “Shit, Lewis.”
“What?” Lewis looked confused and, Rosie noticed with a complete lack of surprise, just the faintest bit triumphant. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
“That’s not the point,” Rosie threw up her hands. “You’re my patient. This is completely unethical. Not to mention you’re a womanizing dick.”
Lewis pouted. “You don’t need to be a bitch a
bout it. We were having a good time.”
“Don’t use that word,” Rosie snapped.
“Sorry,” Lewis replied automatically. Then he sighed. “Look, Rosie, we have a good time together. We’re consenting adults. Where’s the harm?”
“It could cost me my career,” she hissed. “I’m sorry, Lewis, but I have to go. This…this has been nice. Thank you.”
“Aw, come on, Rosie—Rosie!” Lewis called after her as she grabbed her purse and slipped out of his grasp, doing her best not to break into a run as she hurried out of the bar.
Her heart racing, she hailed a taxi in the street and jumped in. They pulled away from the curb just in time for her to see Lewis come out of the bar a moment too late. Rosie sighed in relief, her heartbeat beginning to slow. Then she groaned, her head falling back against the cushions. The worst part was that she wished she hadn’t left.
Chapter 5
The next morning, Lewis made his way to his usual Saturday morning workout only to find Ben waiting for him in the gym, looking ever more glum than usual.
“Well, you really screwed this one up, didn’t you?” Ben greeted him.
“I…what?” Lewis frowned, thinking fast. He couldn’t remember having done anything stupid in the last 24 hours. After Rosie ran off on him, he’d had another drink at the bar, bitched to the bartender for half an hour, then had his chauffeur take him home. He’d been sleeping like a log until an hour ago.
“You just couldn’t behave, could you?” Ben continued as if he hadn’t heard. “Couldn’t just keep your head down for a few months and go through the motions. I mean, God knows a little anger management would have been good for you. But oh no, the great Lewis Maserati doesn’t go to therapy like the rest of us mere mortals. Jesus fucking Christ, Lewis! How could you?”
“Ben, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Lewis as Ben drew in a breath.
“Yeah, right, I’m sure you have no idea why your anger management therapist suddenly quit. I’m sure your behavior had nothing to do with it. The one therapist willing to take you and you fucked it up. Well, congratulations. You’re being permanently suspended. That’s it. No more baseball!” Ben waved his hands to emphasize his point. “I can’t believe you’re actually this stupid.”
“Wait, Rosie quit?” Lewis gaped at his manager.
Ben raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t know? She called me this morning to say she couldn’t work with you anymore. I’m assuming because you did or said something wildly offensive, as always.”
“What?” Lewis protested, his eyes widening. “But I didn’t—”then he realized what this was all about: the kiss. “Shit! I gotta go, Ben.”
“What? No, Lewis Maserati, you’re staying right here to—Lewis! Lewis, get back here! Oh, for the love of Christ!” Ben threw his hands in the air as his star player ran off into the change room.
As Lewis frantically stripped off his gym clothes, he cursed himself for having pushed Rosie so far. He wanted to be mad at her for quitting without warning, for being such a wuss about a teeny kiss, but, deep down, he knew the reason why she’d quit: he’d jeopardized her career. And, just like him, he knew she would do anything to keep her job. For the first time in his life, Lewis could admit to himself that he had, in fact, fucked something up.
His shirt still only half buttoned, he ran out of the gym, flagging down a passing taxi instead of waiting for his driver. Throwing himself into the backseat, he gasped directions at the cabbie. As far as he could see, his last chance to save his career was to convince Rosie to take him back – even if that meant apologizing to her. Fuck, he thought, even if that meant begging her on a bended fucking knee.
It wasn’t until he was taking the elevator up to her office that he realized that his shirt was still only half buttoned.
Lewis was just doing up the last of his buttons as he stepped into the office. Rosie’s assistant, the wide-eyed blonde that had ushered him in on his first day, looked up at him in surprise.
“Mr., uh, Mr. Maserati,” she stuttered. “Today’s Saturday. You don’t have an appointment today.”
“No,” Lewis smiled winningly at the awe-struck woman, “I don’t. But I was really hoping to talk to Rosie about some…issues…I’ve been having. It would really help if I could just have a quick word with her.”
“I’m sorry,” the assistant replied, “but Rosie doesn’t work on Saturdays. I can arrange for you to see another of our therapists, though, if you want? We have two others in today.”
Lewis shook his head. “Thanks, but I really just need to speak to Rosie. You know how it is. You build up a rapport with someone and, well…I don’t want to talk to just anyone!”
The assistant smiled. “Of course not, Mr. Maserati. I wish I could help.”
Lewis eyed the assistant. According to her name tag, her name was Lauren. “You know, Lauren,” his smile widened a few more millimeters, “that’s a really lovely blouse you’ve got on, there.”
Lauren blushed, flattered that such a famous man called her by name. “Oh, jeeze, thanks, Mr. Maserati,” she said.
“Please, call me Lewis,” said Lewis, resting his arm on the rim of the counter and leaning over it towards her.
Lauren swallowed, smiling hesitantly up at him. “Okay then, Lewis,” she said.
“I’m serious, though,” Lewis continued. “The color really brings out your eyes. You should wear it more often, Lauren.”
Lauren’s blush grew darker and she dipped her head. “Thanks,” she replied. “I will.”
“She’s really lucky to have you, you know, Lauren,” Lewis kept going, waiting for the right moment. “Everybody knows that assistants are the ones who keep places like this running.”
“Oh, well, I dunno…” Lauren trailed off.
“Don’t be modest,” Lewis scolded her. “I bet you keep track of everything for everyone here.”
“Well, yes…” Lauren admitted.
“See? What did I tell you?” Lewis winked at the young woman. “Well, anyway, it’s been great talking to you, Lauren, but I should really get going. I’m having a pretty shitty day, to be honest, and I’m having a really tough time controlling myself. Rosie’s really been such a huge help, but sometimes things just feel like they’re spiraling out of control, you know? And that makes me feel so edgy. I’m worried that any minute now I’m gonna lose my temper because of some dumb little thing that doesn’t matter, and I really wouldn’t want it to be in front of you of all people. Your job is hard enough as it is without some jerk flying off the rails at you for no reason.” Lewis gave her a hangdog smile.
Lauren bit her lip. “It’s that bad, huh?” she asked.
Lewis sighed pathetically and shrugged. “Sometimes things just don’t go your way, even when you’re a famous star,” he replied, his voice sad.
“Well, I really shouldn’t be telling you this but, if you’re really, really desperate, you could probably find Rosie at the L’Arch center down in Midtown. She goes there after running errands on Saturday mornings.”
“Really?” Lewis perked up considerably at this tidbit. “That’s amazing. You’re a star, Louise,” he said, running out of the office.
Lauren frowned as the door slammed shut behind him. “My name is Lauren,” she said to the empty waiting room.
Back out in the street, Lewis flagged down another taxi, once more gasping the directions as he launched himself into the back seat. The taxi inched through the congested traffic and Lewis drummed his fingers impatiently on the armrest, forcing himself to keep his cool. When they hit their fourth red light in a row, he even began doing the deep breathing exercises that Rosie was so fond of.
To his surprise, by the time they finally arrived at the L’Arch nursery, he was actually feeling pretty calm and, instead of grinding his teeth, he was wondering what an anger management therapist was doing at a nursery for kids with Down syndrome. Did she do volunteer work or something? He scoffed, it would be just like Rosie to give back to t
he community or some bleeding heart shit like that on her day off.
Getting out of the taxi, he tossed the driver a few folded bills and hurried towards the nursery’s front doors. The taxi driver opened his mouth to ask if he wanted the change but, realizing he’d been handed two one hundred dollar bills, quickly closed it again and drove off. His passenger certainly didn’t seem to be worried about it.
Before Lewis could reach the front doors, Rosie herself appeared – hand in hand with a young boy. Oh shit, thought Lewis as he began to put the pieces together. Then Rosie caught sight of him and frowned.
