𝙰𝙿𝙷𝚁𝙾𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙴'𝚂 𝙱𝙾𝙳𝚈𝙶𝚄𝙰𝚁𝙳

Twenty-Four

I walked around to the drivers side and opened the door before I got inside.
"So," I shut the door and handed my phone to Miss Roselyn so that she could put in the drections. ".. where are we going to meet her?" I asked— Miss Roselyn's eyes were focused on my phone.

"To Bonnie's house, why wouldn't we—Oh! ..Let me tell you something, hun," She set my phone in the holder on the dashboard and looked over at me— putting together what I meant by that. ".. the higher up you get in an business the less you physically have to be there— that doesn't mean it's all sweet but I'm sure you know that by now." Miss Roselyn explained.

I nodded in response and put on my seatbelt before I pulled out of the parking space.

"Also," She added. ".. when you're a journalist it's easier to just be at home and work."

"What about being the CEO of Canopy of Crystal," I murmured. ".. from what I've seen and what you've told me you can just stay home quite a bit."

Miss Roselyn scoffed, "You're funny, Dominic," She stared down at her lap and traced the pad of thumb over one of her acrylics. ".. but honestly, sweetheart, ever since I hired you I've been slackin' a bit— that or I'm gettin' stressed from all this shit."

I drove out of the parking lot and turned onto the street.
I was a bit surprised Miss Roselyn confessed that I was the reason she'd been out if the office more often.
I didn't want that, well, I didn't want to cause her trouble. I don't know what Miss Roselyn was actually like before she hired me, but like she said— it could also be the situation she's in.

If I was Miss Roselyn I'd rather not show up to work while my life was being threatened— though she'd never not show up for that reason.

But Miss Roselyn said it herself— in her mind she was technically responsible for every employee of hers while they worked in that building (I don't disagree but I think there are exceptions to that logic).

"I guess my massage didn't do wonders." I joked and Miss Roselyn stiffled a laugh.

She huffed, "Your massage was great, sweetheart— in fact.. I think might need another one soon.."

. . .

"Roselyn, she knows we're here, right?"

I glanced down at Miss Roselyn while the elevator traveled up the floors one by one (Bonnie's condo wasn't far— only about a fifteen minute drive).

"No." She said simply.

My whole head turned in her direction. I questioned, "Then what if she's not—"

"— She's here, hun," Miss Roselyn interrupted as the elevator came to a halt. ".. her boss told me."
Her voice had a slight scoff to it when she said 'boss'— it was like she found it amusing how Bonnie worked under someone.

The elevator doors slid apart before Miss Roselyn stepped out, and I followed suit. She walked down the the hallway rather quick— eyes darting from each spaced out door.
I know it wasn't the best time to admire how good Miss Roselyn looked because she was obviously pissed, but I couldn't help it.

I could see a bit of hickey's I had left on her skin peak from the sleeveless fabric of her turtleneck. Hiding them was smart, not because people would suspect it was me who made them, but because the news articles would be on Miss Roselyn's ass. Even though she was an adult and had the right to enact in whatever adult activites she wanted the paparazzi would find a way to spin it into something more.