6 : Oh Darling, I'm With You

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Atticus (a.k.a Alfred) leads me in through the entry. Every inch of this place screams wealth and prestige... and a little Conjuring/ X-Men/ Vampire Academy. The high ceilings make me feel even shorter than I already am. We follow the red carpet through several rooms, all intricately and extensively furnished with enough expensive décor to buy Kim Kardashian.

It's getting darker and as it gets darker, it gets colder. I notice this more as Alfred leads me outside and tells me to wait at the door. He disappears back into the warmth of the house.

It's impossible to sit still. I find myself wandering around the gardens and admiring all the flowers. They're a little bit overgrown and only some are blossoming in the winter. I listen to the steady clicking of my heels on the cobble stone and water somewhere in the distance. Maybe there's a waterfall on the grounds somewhere?

That's when I smell it – some distinctive scent. An elegant mixture of body wash, cologne and ash, but so strong yet still subtle. Vivid enough for me to recognize it, but gentle and calm. I whip around and there he is. Adrian Iris.

.

.

.

He's tall and broad, wearing a long coat that almost hits the floor, smoking a cigarette. I feel my jaw hitting the floor as the petal I was poking drops onto his shoe. He almost smiles like he expected this reaction. When May said he isn't too shabby... I didn't think she meant fine as f*ck. I don't think I've ever seen such a fine specimen in my life. What the actual fu-

"You must be Rose," he says in a low, husky, fiiiiiiiine voice.

Momentarily lost for words, I focus on finding my suave. "Yes, and you're... Iris."

He offers me his hand, flashing me a lazy smile.

I take it, the warmth sending some sort of pulse through me, as my gaze slowly reaches his. I look away, unable to control the heat rising to my cheeks.

"Let's go inside."

I walk behind him, watching the sway of his dark coat, as we make our way back into the house.

"Take a seat, Rose."

I sit opposite him on a plush, velvet couch. He sits in front of the fire place and I absorb it's warmth, rubbing my cold hands together, crossing my legs.

"I'd like to offer you a position here with me."

As soon as he said position I lost focus. I try ignoring the wandering thoughts in my brain. "Position doing what? Because if you need someone to run around being your little bitch, bringing you coffee and going on maccas runs, that's not me."

"It's a creative partnership, Rose. It's more than an assistant; I need... a fresh pair of eyes. I need a unique perspective – someone to really challenge me and bring something new to my work."

I take a few seconds to try and comprehend what he means. Another question rises to my lips, "why me?"

"I think you would be," he pauses, possibly mentally arguing with word choices, "invaluable to this project."

"And what project is that?"

The warm flames flicker across his golden brown eyes. "I'm writing another novel, one that may even take place here, in Cedar Creek. I need someone who knows Cedar back to front."

"Surely Atticus could be your little tour guide."

"It's a young novel, I need a particular perspective-"

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