Miss Roselyn Sawyer; the beautiful CEO of Canopy of Crystal, a flourishing jewelry company.
Dominic Pierce; the young and new bodyguard who was just returned his freedom.
All she wanted to know were three simple things.
1) His height, weight, fighti...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
_________________________________________
DOMINIC
"You wanted me, Roselyn?"
I felt I'd been spending more time in Miss Roselyn's office compared to outside of it.
"Mhm," She nodded— she sat on her desk fumbling with something in her hands. ".. c'mere for a second then I'll send you on your way, hun."
I didn't mind it though— being in here was better than just standing by her door for hours. Still, those uneventful days were probably for the better; I'd rather nothing happen then something terrible.
I shut the door behind me and approached Miss Roselyn. I stood in front of her— she had her sketchbook open on her lap and a pencil in between her pouty lips.
"Why'd you go the jewelry route?" I asked— it was sudden question and I didn't even know where it came from.
Miss Roselyn looked up at me. "Hm?" She hummed.
"I mean," I tried to find the right words. ".. you're really good at drawing— when you draw watches and rings you draw the hands and with earrings you draw the ears.. like to model them for yourself. So you definitely could've went the route of something more artsy y'know."
Miss Roselyn brought her pencil from her lips before she scoffed, "I consider this artsy."
"Don't get me wrong what you is very artsy.. I just mean—"
"— I know what you mean," Miss Roselyn smiled. ".. somethin' more like Da Vinci or Picasso."
"Yeah." I nodded.
She set her pencil inside of the spiral spine of her sketch book— her eyes locking onto mine.
"Well sweetheart, if I did that," She began. ".. I'd probably own a little store down in Mississippi after graduating college, then settle down, get married, pop out a couple kids, and die in my bed old and satisfied— that's what my Grandmama did 'nd let me tell you everyone always used to say I was just like her."
She paused— laughing softly. "And I loved that woman, but I never wanted to be like her," Miss Roselyn pursed her lips together. ".. have you ever seen those old-school jewerly boxes— the ones that look like miniature closets?" She asked.
I chewed on my inner cheek— had I ever seen those before?
Mama had jewelry, lots of it, and at some point she had a desk littered with it. I remember, as a child, one pair of her earrings— some emerald studs that she always displayed. She never wore them unless it was a special occasion, and I thought they had to be worth millions because of how careful she was with them.
