Chapter 11: The Black Roses

Carrigan

It felt like the right decision not to kiss Royce the night before.

I didn’t want to hurt him. He had been sweet to me. He had understood that I wasn’t ready to kiss yet, and overall, he was respectful of me. That wasn’t something I had dealt with a whole lot in my history.

I felt like there might have been more to it, though. I mean, maybe I was hiding from my own feelings. Not kissing him could also just look like maybe I’m not ready to let him in. In a way, I was protecting myself from anything that could happen, just a little longer.

I liked Royce. But I hadn’t been with someone before, at least not where it was this adult, this serious. I didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, I didn’t want to get hurt, either.

I’m glad I was honest with him, though. He was proving that there were still gentlemen in the world, and I appreciated that.

When I got to work the next day, Kaitlyn pointed out something had arrived. “You had flowers delivered earlier. I’m not UPS, so don’t make it a habit of your gentleman caller sending you flowers at the bar.”

Sure enough, a bouquet of a dozen black roses sat in a clear vase. Sticking out from the flowers was a card with only a few words written on it.

‘I Miss You.’

I squealed to myself, shocked by Royce’s sweetness.

Maybe I was too hasty to want to leave. Royce’s kindness, thoughtfulness, and everything made me want to change my mind.

“Black roses? What does he think he’s a comedian?” Kaitlyn questioned. “I’m no romantic, but wouldn’t the right color be red?

I turned to her. “What?”

“You know, red is the color of romance or whatever.” My boss shrugged. “Isn’t black like, not that?”

I lowered my brows. “I haven’t gotten flowers since I went to prom, so I have no idea.”

“You haven’t received flowers in six years?” Nina asked, walking out of the kitchen. “That’s so sad, Carrigan.”

I shrugged. “Yeah, well, it was my little bouquet that my date gave me. It doesn’t matter. The point is I got flowers.”

“But black flowers?” Nina questioned.

“Did you mention that black was your favorite color or something?” Kaitlyn inquired. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t get red.”

“I mean, he’s only seen me wear black since we met. Maybe he likes that color for me. I don’t know.”

“What color?” Paul entered from the kitchen next. “What’re we talking about?”

“Why Carrigan’s new man decided to get her black flowers instead of literally any other color,” Kaitlyn explained, looking through the receipts from the night before.

“I didn’t realize my love life was such a hot commodity here.” I crossed my arms. “Since when do you guys care about any of the guys I’ve ever spoken to?”

Kaitlyn didn’t look up from her pile. “Since you received flowers to my business. Otherwise, I would just continue to pretend that you didn’t go on two dates with a customer.”

“He’s a customer?” Nina’s mouth dropped open. “You went out with someone who’s paid money to us?”

“Not intentionally,” I murmured under my breath. I sighed, picking up the silverware that needed to be rolled. “Listen, I have given my number out once before, and I’m pretty sure that guy threw it out. Something about Royce is different, y’all. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I do,” Paul interjected. “You thought he was a tall glass of whiskey, and you didn’t want to miss out on the possibility of seeing him again.”

“I didn’t even know if he would come back. It was his first time ever coming into Charm. And it was nice to have someone actually be nice to me and not expect me to flash my tits.” I turned to Paul. “Also, I liked the way he was kind to me. I never thought I’d be the kind of person to say he’s different from every other guy I’ve met, but it’s true.”

“Ya hear that, Kaitlyn?” Nina pointed at me, a smile on her face. “Our little Carrigan is in love.”

“Nina, I’m three years older than you are. I’m not little.”

She shrugged. “Just fun to pretend. Plus, I didn’t hear you deny the accusation.”

Oh damn. “It’s been two dates, Nina. I’m not ‘in love’ with him. I don’t even know Royce’s last name.” But I did know his last name. I’d learned it the night before when he told the host about his reservations.

Nina threw up her hands. “All right, all right, you’re not in love with him.”

“Thank you. And besides. I originally said no to a second date,” I explained.

Paul turned from cleaning a particular spot on the bar. “Why would you say no? You’re the one who gave him your number.”

It’s not like my co-workers knew about my situation. I’d never even spent time outside the bar with them. No matter what, they wouldn’t learn why I didn’t stick around in the same place for long. They didn’t know anything about me. What they saw and heard at the bar was their only information.

I didn’t plan on telling them about my nightmares, fears, or anything. It had worked for two years. I wasn’t about to change my tactics.

I shrugged, turning away from the group as I added the silverware to the napkins and folded them before rolling them up. “I’m stressed. I wasn’t sure if I made the right choice.”

Correction: I wasn’t sure if I had made the right choice in not running. Things were still putting me on edge since the nightmares returned. I found myself going back and forth about what to do, but every time I seemed to come to a conclusion, I always added another question to the equation.

I was scared. I had been safe for four years but never knew when my life would rip the rug out from under me.

And meeting Royce had me genuinely questioning if staying was wise or not.

“I’m sorry, but when did my bar become a gossip circle?” Kaitlyn’s voice had us all turn towards her, no longer going through the receipts. Her arms were crossed, and I could see her tongue sitting in her cheek. “Nina, can you go fill the ketchup cups in the kitchen? Paul, check all the dressings. Fill those as well.”

“Wait, why are you giving us the kitchen tasks? What about Carrigan?” Nina questioned.

Kaitlyn pointed at me. “She’s rolling the silverware already. Also, because I’m in charge, and Carrigan doesn’t always call out.” Her red, manicured fingers tapped on the bar. “I can come up with more to say or give you more menial work. It’s up to you.”

Rolling her eyes, Nina let out a groan as she pushed open the door to the kitchen.

“For the record,” Paul commented before entering the kitchen, “playing favorites doesn’t bide well when you only have a few employees.”

“I can have two fewer employees if you’d like?”

I looked at Kaitlyn, the vein above her left eyebrow pulsing. She didn’t actually get mad often, though she liked to pretend. But I didn’t understand why she was reacting like that. I’d never seen her threaten anyone who worked there and mean it. The constant jokes about firing me I knew weren’t serious. But the look on her face as the color drained from Paul’s already pale face worried me.

Without responding, he made his way into the kitchen after Nina. I didn’t know what she was thinking, so I continued to roll my utensils silently.

“Okay. Out with it,” Kaitlyn said after a few minutes. She’d stopped next to me, grabbing some of the silverware to roll.

“Out with what?” I asked, doing everything not to actually look at her. I don’t know what she expected me to say, considering I was always a locked door. Sure, Kaitlyn knew things about me, but the others didn’t, and they had nothing to do with the actual secrets that I kept. She just knew the surface-level things.

“I’ve watched you work here. Do you think I don’t know when you’re bullshitting? Your lies are usually better hidden than this.” She tossed a rolled set into my basket, reaching for another fork. “I’ve stayed off your back because you always bring everything to the table here. No matter what, you don’t let whatever you’ve got going on affect you.”

I turned to my boss, not knowing what to say.

“But I’ve never heard your voice hold fear. Not real fear, anyway. And whether anyone likes it or not, you are my favorite. Because you give a damn. Because you are good at this. So, when I hear your voice attempting to hold back the tremble of fear, I will say something. So, out with it.”

All this time, I thought I was better at keeping secrets. But in just two minutes, Kaitlyn proved to me that I was terrible at hiding my emotions from her.

I didn’t know what to say, but the truth wasn’t anywhere near me when I finally spoke.

“I don’t want to make a mistake with this guy. I haven’t been on a date since I was younger, and it took me a while to really remember what it’s like to sit across from someone that likes me more than just pouring their drinks.”

Nothing in that statement bore any truth. While I hadn’t been out on a date in years, I wasn’t nervous about making a fool of myself with Royce. I was scared that I would drag him in too deep to the point he would no longer be safe.

Kaitlyn didn’t need to know the truth. No one did, actually.

I gave up everything four years ago when I ran. I left everyone I cared about behind. I brought the money I had in my wallet, the clothes on my back, and a backpack of a few things I didn’t want to be without. I didn’t talk to my family. I didn’t call or write or visit. I was always running, and Kaitlyn would not be safe if she knew why I hadn’t stopped in four years.

The truth was, I missed them. I missed my past and the life that I had built. I missed school, friends, and stability. But I didn’t get to have that anymore. I wasn’t meant to live a normal life. My fate had been sealed when I was twenty, and I never ever looked back.

I couldn’t go home. I couldn’t return to having what I’d used to. I had made my choices, and I had to live with them.

“He doesn’t seem to be the type to have judged you for not remembering how to be on a date,” Kaitlyn remarked.

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But that’s why they’re known as ‘irrational fears.’ No rhyme or reason to them. Just pure fear.”

Pure fear that I would never be free from. That was the truth. I was forever imprisoned by fear. And no one, not Kaitlyn, Royce, or my coworkers, could free me.