The Big Boss

Taking another sip of my tea, I laugh again. “I’ll keep that in mind. Though I’m dying to know what story you’re going to drop on me that proves the point.”

“A lady never kisses and tells,” she says with a grin. “But she does swallow and spill. There are more than I think you have time for today, dear. But I remember once upon at a time at one of those parties that everyone talks about—you know, ballgowns and tiaras and all that—I was invited, who knows why.” She stands and takes her cup to the sink slowly, another tradition of ours because she won’t let me do it for her.

This isn’t the first time that Rose has hinted at the fact that she had a glamourous life. It makes me wonder what her real story is and how she ended up here. She seems happy with where she is, and every time I try to ask her directly about her past, she shuts me down. But there are hints. Despite the age of this building, it’s beautiful and vintage and I have no doubt that it costs an absolute shit-ton to live here. Not to mention the services she pays for, like me.

“Anyway,” she continues, “we were dancing and drinking, and I saw this man across the room. Tall and blond and built—you know the type. And I swear that that man’s eyes set me on fire. It only took a few minutes before he was crawling under my skirt and giving me one of the best orgasms of my life. We left the party and didn’t look back. A night of some of the best cock I’ve ever had was well worth some dancing,” she chuckled to herself. “I didn’t find out till later that he was royalty. If I’d known, maybe I would have kept him another night.”

“Rose, oh my god. Talk about burying the lede here. Royalty from where?”

She waves a hand. “That doesn’t matter. The point is that you should enjoy yourself. Now come here, I have something for you.”

“That’s all you’re going to give me?” I ask, pouting. “Really?”

“I could give you more details about the sex and the fact that his tongue was like a goddamn hurricane, but I don’t think you want to hear about an old woman’s love life.”

I’m still tripping over the fact that she had a one-night stand with someone royal. That’s so cool. And I’m sure she’s concealing a lot of the juicy details. But if she thinks that I’m going to forget and not ask again, she’s dead wrong. I down the rest of my tea and load my cup into the dishwasher before following her over to her guest room.

“One of my downstairs neighbors passed,” she says. “And they were giving away her things. I thought of your friend with the flower shop, thought she could use them.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. I didn’t realize she’d had a neighbor that died.

Rose waves a hand. “She lived a long life, and we all knew it was coming. Went peacefully, and you would have liked her. But she would have smacked us both for being sad about it. I’m sorry I can’t lift this.”

I step around her and find a box on the floor. It’s filled with absolutely stunning flower pots. Some hand crafted and painted, and immediately I know that Rose is right. Lila will love these. “Are you sure? These are really beautiful. I could help you plant some herbs in your window.”

“No, thank you. I’ve got enough hobbies, and the flowers you bring me are as much as I can handle keeping alive.”

“Fair enough,” I say, laughing. The box is pretty heavy, but I can lift it. I’m glad I have my car with me today. On days with lighter loads, I’ll sometimes take my bike. But I wasn’t sure if Lila was going to need me to make deliveries today, and I had plenty to deliver to Rose anyway. Glancing at my phone, I wince. “I wish I could stay a little longer and make you tell me more about Mr. Royal, but I actually promised Lila that I would help her out at the store today.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, honey. It’s just nice to see you every week.”

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.” She’s never called me though, even though the post-it note with my cell number is still stuck on the fridge where I can see it. I would stay longer if I hadn’t promised Lila. Maybe I’ll drop by later this week and make sure that she’s doing okay.

Carrying the pots down the stairs make me incredibly grateful that Lila’s shop is on the ground floor. She must have had whoever was helping clean her friend’s apartment carry them up to hers.