Page 31 of The Millionaire Mortician
He went straight into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him, which wasn’t like him. I didn’t say anything, though. I just waited my turn. In the meantime, I just grabbed myself a fresh silk gown and busied myself with picking out my outfit for the following day.
As soon as he came out, I went in. All I wanted to do was bathe and jump right into bed, so I didn’t make it a long, drawn-out shower.
By the time I got out, Milan was already stretched out on the bed with the TV on low, scrolling through his phone like it was more important than the entire world. He didn’t look up at me, not once. His energy was cold, and I hated it when he got like that, whether it was because of me or because of work.
We didn’t argue or even exchange any slick comments. We just didn’t talk. That shit was worse than a fight. At least if we were fighting, we were communicating. Instead, it felt like two strangers were living under the same roof.
I usually would’ve said something, but I was exhausted as hell. Between the clients, the stress of the grand opening, and Milan’s laser-beam eyes in my office when Maverick asked about the roses, I felt drained. So I did what I do best in those cases... I stayed quiet and in my corner. Not even waiting for him to roll over, I just turned on my side and let sleep take me.
Now, driving to work the next day, I kept pondering the silence and space from the night before. I just knew it was about the damn roses. He just wasn’t ready to press me about it just yet. I wasn’t dumb. I knew he didn’t believe that half-truth I fed him. Milan wasn’t the type to argue in the moment, but he was the type to sit back, analyze, and wait for the right time to corneryou with the truth. That’s what made him dangerous in business and in love.
I sipped my coffee, staring at the light turning green. My phone buzzed in the passenger seat with a text, but I didn’t even pick it up. I was too busy plotting.Do I bring it up first, or do I let him ask me?All I knew was that whatever conversation was coming, it was coming soon, and I had better be ready for it.
By the timelunch rolled around, my head was pounding. Between clients, Talina pressing me about Milan and me, and them damn roses still staring me down in my office, I needed a breather. So I dipped out solo to hit a little restaurant a few blocks away.
When I arrived at the restaurant, I noticed it was busier than I expected. I was craving the shrimp pasta they had, though, so I was willing to be patient if I had to be.
As I walked in, I waited a few moments behind a couple. When it was my turn, just before telling the hostess a table for one, I heard a familiar voice slide up behind me.
“Well, damn, if it ain’t my favorite barber,” he exclaimed in a smooth and low tone.
I froze as my stomach did a whole flip. Turning around, I locked eyes with Fabian, aka myrose sender.
For a split second, I swore the devil was out to get me. Out of everybody I could run into, it just had to be him. The same man Milan was already side-eyeing in spirit without even knowing his name or how he looked.
Fabe grinned like he was happy to see me. “Mind if I join you?” He raised his brows.
I hesitated for a moment as I chewed my bottom lip. Everything in me screamed,say no and keep it pushing.Instead, I nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
The next thing I knew, we were sliding into a booth across from each other.
Before we could start a conversation, the server popped up to take our orders.
“What you sipping on?” Fabe asked with a grin.
“Some lemonade,” I quickly shot back with a smile. “I’m working and need to be focused,” I added.
He nodded and smiled. “I like that... a woman about her business.”
“Exactly.” I smirked.
We placed our drink and meal orders since we both knew exactly what we were there for. The server then ran off to do her thing.
“So, where are you from?” I mustered up the courage to ask.
“I was raised in Brooklyn, but I live out in Queens now,” he answered. “How ‘bout you?” he countered.
“Atlanta, but I reside in Brooklyn.”
“Okay, okay. What brought you out here?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that, but I kept it simple. “Opportunities.”
“I can see that. That’s wassup.”
We engaged in easy conversation, spilling out shit like we’d known each other longer than just a cut and a bouquet. It was refreshing to speak to someone else, though, someone new.
As time went on, we ate and we laughed. Fabe had that charm that was laid back, flirty, but not too pushy. The type of vibe that made you lean in without realizing it. Every time hesmiled, I felt that flutter in my stomach. That butterfly feeling I hadn’t felt in a while with Milan.
