Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Phillip

Me:

Hey, I just picked up the panels and everything looks good. You ready to start work tomorrow morning? 9am?

Rose:

9 sounds good. Do I need to bring anything other than the design?

Just the design is fine for now.

Oh, and wear stuff you don't mind getting messy. It'll get dusty once we start cutting the panels.

Got it, thanks.

After texting Rose my address, I decided to get an early night. Just as well because anticipation has me waking well before my alarm sounds. It's six and still dark outside but I'm wide awake. Choosing to take advantage of the extra time, I pull on a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt then head out into the frigid morning air for a run.

Starting with a few warm-up stretches on my driveway, I can already feel some of the tension draining from my body. Setting off at a jog, I head towards the local park, mind racing. The shopping trip with Rose turned out surprisingly well after a rocky start, but it's Thursday now and I'm worried the couple of days we've spent apart will have us reverting back to the awkwardness from before. It doesn't help that I actually enjoyed getting to know her better, so much so that I asked her to join me for the entirety of the project. I do think it will be useful for her to be familiar with the whole process if Aria does ask her to design another set but my motivation behind the suggestion was not exactly altruistic.

My breaths come out in pants as I pick up the pace. It looks like my mother absolutely called it on Sunday and I'm more drawn to Rose than I first realised. Something about her intrigues me. The woman has more layers to her personality than a jumbo stack of pancakes and I want to discover them all.

Unfortunately, I don't think Rose returns my interest. Her feelings towards me might change the more time we spend together, but I need to be careful. She's coming into my home, to work with nobody else around, I can't risk coming on too strong and making her uncomfortable. I'll keep things friendly like I did on Monday and let her take the lead when it comes to anything else, that way I can be sure she doesn't feel pressured into anything. Happier now I've decided on a course of action, I finish my loop through the park actually able to enjoy seeing the vibrant colours of the leaves on the trees I pass.

Thanks to getting up and out before the crack of dawn, I find myself showered, changed, and full of a hearty breakfast well before Rose is due to arrive. A glance at my phone tells me I have an hour to wait. I will not make this weird . I'm a thirty-two-year-old man, not a teenage boy with his first crush. I'll welcome Rose into my home like the most appropriately friendly, calm, professional guy to ever exist.

At eight fifty-two I start pacing. My nervous energy has come back tenfold and I'm incapable of sitting still any longer. It's a good job the downstairs floor of my house is open-plan because my legs are eating up the space like a model on a runway. If models wore jeans, work boots, and t-shirts, which I doubt. Not that I could say for sure. Blake is the fashionable one in our friendship but, given how he frowns even when I wear what I consider to be my good jeans, I don't think I'm in any danger of being mistaken for a male model. I am in danger of wearing a hole in my floors if Rose doesn't arrive soon.

The bell rings, saving my floors and stopping me from spiralling any further. I have never been so nervous to have a woman in my home. Not that I've invited many women here. Blake wasn't wrong when he said my social life outside of our friendship has dried up. Somehow inviting Rose into my space feels much more significant than it should, especially since she's here for work, not for me. Shaking out my hands I walk down the short hall and take a calming breath before opening the door with a smile.

Rose stands on my front step wearing paint-splattered jeans and a loose-fitting jumper under her wool coat. She looks cute, though I'm not about to risk her wrath by saying that out loud.

"Morning. You find it OK?"

"Yeah. It helps that we're on the same bus route," she replies, peering around me.

"Right, sorry. Come on in." I step back, waving her inside.

"Thanks." She offers me a small smile which only flusters me more. "Wow," she breathes. "Your house is lovely." So are you .

"Thank you." I clear my throat. "You want coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee would be great." I lead the way through the living area to the kitchen, Rose following closely behind me.

"Have a seat." I wave to one of the stools tucked under the counter that separates the kitchen and dining area. "I'll show you the workshop in a minute."

Rose settles in, still taking in the space around her. Pride swells in my chest. My house isn't anything fancy, but I worked hard to make the space inviting. It feels good having someone show their appreciation for it.

"How long have you lived here?"

"About five years now," I reply, grabbing mugs from the cupboard while the kettle boils. "You've been in your flat with Aria since uni, right?"

"Well remembered." The corners of her mouth twitch up in a surprised half-smile. I can't help thinking that if she ever gifts me with a full one, I'll be stunned speechless. Colleagues or not, I'm going to do my best to earn a real smile before we're done. Monday doesn't count. I want to make her smile, not at some outlandish customer horror story, but at me . "We've been in the flat we have now for four years, and shared a place as students for two before that. Dreamer Entertainment has been going for six years."

"The company's been around that long?" I ask, surprised.

"Yeah, Aria started it in our second year of uni."

"And you've always done both? The parties and your art, I mean."

"Yeah. Until recently."

"Right, you mentioned you were taking a break. Milk?" I pause, carton tilted just above the rim of her mug.

"Just a little." I add a splash to both our mugs then return it to the fridge. When I set her coffee down on the breakfast bar, she pulls it closer, warming her hands on the ceramic and taking a grateful sip. "Thank you." Another small smile. "What's the plan for today?"

I'll let her get away with the subject change for now but I'm curious to know the reason for her break. The shadows that cloud her expression tell me there's a story there.

"We'll start by making sure you're happy with the plans I've drawn up based on your design." I haven't made any big changes, just sketched out where the wheels need to be fitted and other practical details. "Once we agree on that, we'll outline the different sections on the panels so I can cut them into the shapes we need. I thought you could help with that part if you don't mind?" Thanks to my carving, I have the drawing skills to get the job done but it would go much faster with both of us working on it.

"Sounds good," Rose agrees.

"After the panels are cut, we'll start treating the wood."

"At the risk of asking a stupid question—why are we treating the wood if I'm painting it?"

Pleased she's interested enough in the process to ask questions, I can't help but smile which seems to be my default setting around this woman. Can't say I mind. I wasn't sure if she only accepted my offer to join me for this whole process just to be polite after our rough start. It's a relief that she seems genuinely happy to be here.

"Definitely not a stupid question," I rush to assure her. "The wood is porous so that means if we don't seal it up the paint will be absorbed into the material and won't look right. After a few coats to prep the wood, you'll be able to paint it without any worries."

"Got it." Rose nods. "Thanks for explaining." Standing, she drains the last of her coffee. I take her empty cup, giving both our mugs a quick rinse before leaving them in the sink to wash up properly later. Time to show Rose my workshop—the space we'll be sharing for the next few weeks.