Page 98 of Rainstorm

What is he saying to her?

On Wednesday morning at the office, the same messenger arrives, but this time with two baskets of strudel bars. At least my co-workers are thrilled, since yesterday they had a sweet breakfast, today there are baked goodies up for grabs.

Dear Lord… what the heck is happening?

The text messages don’t stop and I’m about to call Chase and send him to hell. But a little voice in my head keeps whispering that I don’t really want him to stop.

Can’t you see, Rose?This man—your man—is doing his best to win you over and he’s trying hard.

If only I could believe him.

If only I could trust him.

Trust him again with my heart and my future? That’s a mighty big ask.

For fuck’s sake, am I reading too much into this? I don’t even know what he wants!

Thursday morning, I’m not surprised when the receptionist tells me that the well-known messenger is waiting for me yet again at the entrance.

“Oh my God ...” I gasp when I see the guy in the blue cap standing there with what must be at least three dozen gold star shaped Mylar balloons.

You own my sunshine, you always will.

That is written on the card attached to one of them. Fuck those words. And fuck their effect on me.

He knows what they mean. His proposal.

And as if the situation was not uncomfortable enough, at that precise moment my boss enters the lobby with a smirk on his face.

I want the earth to open up and swallow me. I want to die with embarrassment.

“Are you ever going to take pity on the poor man, or are we going to have a show like this every single day?”

“Oliver, I have no idea what’s going on or what Chase is playing at. For God’s sake, we’re getting divorced as you are well aware, since your brother is my lawyer.”

“Roselynn, your husband is wooing you, of that I have no doubt whatsoever. So many women nowadays are desperate to catch the first unsuspecting male that crosses their path, but men love a challenge, it satisfies our conquering complex.”

Whoa… I can’t process this little nugget of information right now. I just can’t.

“So I’ve become a hunting trophy?” I raise my eyebrows challengingly. “Wow, good to know.”

“No, that’s not it. What I’m trying to say is that we’re intrigued by things that are a little difficult, nothing that comes too easy is worth it.” Then he claps his hands. “But enough of the Oprah show for today, we have work to do. Take those balloons to your office or some place out of the way. Better yet, call the photographer, he can use them in some shots with the models. Might as well make use of some free props.”

Without further ado, he leaves me standing there with my jaw practically on the floor. But since ‘The Boss’ has spoken, I ask Anita, our receptionist, to call in Ronny—the photographer—and a couple of models. Oliver is right, we might as well take full advantage of Chase’s gift.

When I get to my desk and check my cell, I see I have two missed calls and another text message.

You’re going out with me.

I’ll make it happen.

I already have plans for this Saturday, suck that Holland. That would be the perfect reply, but I resist the temptation. Best not to engage with him in any way at all.

A little later my phone rings again, but this time it’s Sawyer. He promptly announces that a potential client is interested in buying the house, and the lawyer of my soon-to-be ex-husband has said that if I agree to meet Chase at the house tomorrow at noon, he’ll go ahead and sign all the necessary documents. Sawyer recommends that I agree to meet him in order to get things sorted.

So I guess I’m going to have to see Chase if I want this sale to go ahead.

But is that really what I want?

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