Page 77 of Play for Power (Central Sparks #3)

property of rosie

Caleb

R osie tried to bail on our date. Which was hilarious that she thought I’d take her, I can’t tonight, some other time, as an answer.

No, I was smiling to myself and shaking my head at her as I rode the elevator to the top floor of her father’s building.

Because I wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Not when I had an epic date planned that I knew she’d love.

I know we’d made a little progress from a month ago; she no longer shied away from me in public, in fact, she mostly sought me out.

We barely spent a night apart, and though she hadn’t given me an answer on my offer from a few days ago, I knew things right now were…

more. I just didn’t want to push the label thing with her because I knew she was gun-shy.

And labels didn’t really matter, I just wanted her, and right now, it really feels like I have her.

Standing in front of the door, I knock and a person I assume is staff answers with a gentle smile.

“Hey, uh…I was just looking for Rosie.” They tilt their head slightly before gesturing for me to step inside and wait by the foyer.

I do so silently, if a little on edge. The staff leaves me standing there alone and I take the time to look around the area.

Ornate and massively over the top. Seriously, who has a foyer in their apartment for people to wait?

I don’t get much more time to ponder the decor though, because Miguel Jr. rounds the corner, seemingly surprised to see me but also looking rather glad, as a slimy smile spreads across his face.

Rolling my eyes, I let my body fall into a lean against the wall as he continues to stride in my direction, his hands tucking into his pockets.

“Ah, the gutter boy. Still trying to climb the wealth ladder, I see? With your grimy hooks in the Garcia heiress.” I give him an appropriate look of disgust and make a show of looking him up and down disapprovingly.

“I see you’re still overcompensating for your small cock with big words.

” His smug smile flinches, just for a moment.

I try my best not to be annoyed that Rosie hadn’t mentioned this family Fiestas Patrias luncheon also involved this guy, but I also know that Rosie hates the guy more than I do, so I choose to ignore it.

Miguel—or Mickey, as Rosie calls him—continues to spit bullshit as I continue my perusal of the room, wondering what is taking Rosie so long.

I pick a bit of lint off my shirt and then my ears reluctantly tune back into whatever nonsense Mickey was on about.

“You’re going to have to give up at some point, Mr. Smith.

Rosita knows better than to spend her time with the likes of you. ”

“You’re still talking?” I sigh, letting my bored stare find his and smiling when a familiar head of curly hair rounds the corner.

“Caleb?” she hisses with a look of surprise.

“The staff seemed to have let in a stray. Don’t worry, Rosita, I can take out the trash.

” Mickey’s tone is scratching at the nerve in my neck that has me twitching and wanting to run him through a wall.

When Rosie scoffs, he moves his gaze from me to her and I smother a laugh as she pokes her tongue out at him, taking a few steps until she’s right in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” she whisper-shouts, and I can tell by the size of her dark whiskey eyes that she is mad-mad, but I can’t take my eyes off her dress.

It’s so…pretty. She looks like a fucking angel, all soft and petit.

The dress is a little conservative for what I know of Rosie; high on the front but form-hugging in all the best places, the little T-shirt sleeves made of some white lacy material as it flares out.

Secretly pleased with her outfit, knowing that it will be perfect for all the twirling and dancing I have planned for the day, but I’m lost in images of her body moving and her smile growing when her hand slaps at my chest. “Eyes up here, cabrón. I said, what are you doing here?” She crosses her arms and I smile at her.

“We have a date.” I give her a little flick of my eyebrows, biting my lip when she tries to smother a smile of her own.

“I told you I needed to cancel.”

“Nope.” I decline with a snap of my head, turning to hold open the front door and gesturing that we should leave.

“C’mon, we’re going to be late.” I smile at her little look of shock that I find adorable, and my smile grows when I look over at Mickey, who is absolutely furious.

When he tries to close the gap, I raise my free hand to stop him.

“Sorry, man, you’re not invited because…

” I pause, and then a humorless laugh works its way up my throat.

“You know, I was going to come up with a lie, but I really don’t care.

I’d just rather chew off my big toe than spend another minute in your presence.

” I turn back to Rosie. “We should really go.”

“I can’t just leave.” She brings a hand to her forehead, and I frown a little as her head swings to Mickey…and stays there. He smiles at me like he’s in on some secret I don’t know, and I have to smother the possessive growl that tries to break free.

Calmly, I raise a hand to touch Rosie’s elbow, anything to get her gaze back on mine. “Why not?”

“Because…” She sputters, but her eyes finally come back to me and the caramel swirls spin a storm of frustration as she fights back all the emotions she refuses to show.

“I’m meant to be spending the day with…these pieces of shit.

” She gestures behind her, rolling her eyes.

There is something a little lost, a little broken about her in this moment, and I hate how helpless she looks.

I don’t understand it, but I know I want it to go away.

I want to take away all of it, and I want her to smile up at me again, in that way that makes my chest ache and has me wanting to declare a whole bunch of crazy caveman possessive things.

I drop the door and take a step closer to her, lifting her chin with a knuckle to make sure she’s looking right up at me.

With lips an inch apart, I whisper, “ Your power. Remember? They can’t take it if you don’t give it to them.

” I keep my eyes on hers, not even blinking, hoping like hell she fights against her pain, fights them, those that seek to control her.

I have a lot of built-up rage at her family, at the Castillos for how they treat her.

But I won’t unleash, not here. Rosie is a strong woman and she’ll get to the right path, nothing wrong with a little guidance though.

I see it all behind her eyes, and when her lips part, my eyes can’t help themselves but latch there. Those pouty and pillowy soft lips that I fucking love. And after what feels like an eternity, she lets go of a heavy breath.

“Okay, I’ll go with you.”

I internally cheer but externally fist-pump. My joy is short-lived as Mickey takes an angry step forward. Ensuring to get in the way, I gently move Rosie to the side and block his path. I’d sooner sell my soul than let him get his hands on her.

“Rosita, don’t be stupid,” he directs to her, ignoring me like I’m not physically blocking him from her.

“You can’t just leave? When the hell are you going to grow up?

Spending your time galivanting around the city with some boy like you’re a teenager,” he spits, and I roll my eyes so hard they nearly get stuck.

“Fuck me. Do they have a script for all you villainous rich dudes?” I wipe a hand down my face before looking appropriately bored at Mickey. “Who are you calling ‘boy’? I’ve got at least six inches on you at both ends…and I’m almost certain I’m older.”

“Put a sock in it, Mickey.” Rosie sighs before he has a chance to respond, heading for the door and dragging me with her.

“Tell Father dearest that something came up. I’m sure he’ll call me a billion times to scold me.

” With one final fake smile over her shoulder, she connects her eyes with mine, twining our fingers together and dragging me out the door.

“You look so pretty, Rosebud.”

“That didn’t answer my question.” She pouts adorably, but she can’t hide her smile at the compliment, and something about her enjoying the things I say to her really does something for me.

“That’s because I already told you it’s a surprise.” I can’t take my eyes off her, especially when she looks adorably nervous in the way she fiddles with the hem of her dress and the little blush of pink high on her cheekbones that hasn’t disappeared since we got in the Uber.

“Is this going to be one of those places you take other dates?” Rosie spits through a forced snarky pout and it makes me smile wider.

With her arms crossed over her chest and the defensive way she holds her posture, I know she’s feeling out of her comfort zone because she’s never let a man take her on a date before, and I’m aware that this makes us feel like…

more. But I couldn’t help myself. Rosie Garcia deserves to be dated.

And she also deserves to celebrate her people’s national holiday, the right way.