Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Rosemary pressed her lips, keeping mum, and just when Maxwell thought she had sobered up and recognized him, she shoved his face away again, irked, "Back off, just looking at you annoys me."

Jason watched from the side, scared witless. Mrs. Templeton might not be all sugar and spice, but she was definitely not this fierce and menacing.

He was terrified she'd tick off Mr. Templeton and get ditched right there and then.

Maxwell, holding back his irritation, opened the car door and stuffed her inside, following himself, "To Meadowlark Retreat."

"I'm not going to Meadowlark Retreat." Even though Rosemary was drunk, her subconscious resisted that place, "I’m going back to Silver Community. Take me back to Silver Community."

Silver Community was the apartment she currently lived. The mere mention of Silver Community made Maxwell think of its owner, casting a shadow over his thoughts. He ignored her, turned his head towards the window, and pretended to doze off.

If Rosemary were sober, she'd see he was at his wit's end, the frown on his face so deep it could squish a fly. But drunks didn't read the room; all she knew was he was ignoring her.

"Talk to me," she swung a slap his way, but before it could reach Maxwell, he caught her wrist in a flash.

A vein on the man's temple throbbed as he bellowed at her, "Shut up."

Rosemary looked at him with puppy-dog eyes, "You yelled at me."

He really got the message now: drunks were beyond reason, no matter how classy they seemed on a regular day.

"You yelled at me."

He conceded, "I didn’t yell at you."

She caught him off guard with her other hand; this time he couldn’t stop it, and it landed right on his neck - her nail scraped across his Adam's apple, drawing blood, "Talk don't yell, shut it!"

She went from a sulky cutie to a full-blown fierce Barbie in a heartbeat.

Maxwell's face was utterly dark. He silently took off his tie, looped it around her wrists, and pinned her down on his lap, "Don't move."

If Rosemary was going to listen, that'd be a day. The more he told her to stay put, the more she squirmed!

"Let me go, now!" RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Her hands, even through the fabric, rubbed back and forth on his lap, making Maxwell press his lips together, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He stared out the window with a blank face, letting Rosemary carry on her antics. After a while, the woman beside him seemed to have had her fill and quieted down, but not even five minutes later, she leaned in, her ear against his chest, "Your heart's racing."

Maxwell pushed her away, his face even colder, "Sit tight, zip it."

Rosemary licked her lips, "I'm thirsty."

"Pushing your luck, drink it yourself."

Despite his words, Maxwell endured and helped her drink, careful not to let her choke, pouring in small amounts until she frowned and started to protest, then he finally withdrew his hand.

Silence reigned for a few minutes. Out of the blue, Rosemary blurted out, "Let me help you snag Victoria; what do you think?"

Maxwell was thinking of ways to gag her!

"Dude, don't be so prideful." Rosemary wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, earnestly advising him, "You won't win a girl over like that. Listen to me, and Victoria will be head over heels for you in a week."

Maxwell looked at her approaching face as if something clicked, a similar scene from his memory.

He chuckled sardonically, snapping out of it, "So, how should I go about it?"

"First off, you sleep with her."

At the red light, Jason almost mistook the accelerator for the brake.

Maxwell glanced at him through the rearview mirror. Jason immediately sat up straight, eyes fixed forward; if his ears were able to droop, they’d practically have done it to block out the conversation.

Rosemary kept on her serious analysis, "She'll definitely say no, so you'll have to force her."

Victoria was totally an angelic bitch, all high and mighty on the surface, but just too proud to express her true feelings. She'd rather beat around the bush and expect others to get the hint. If they didn't, it was like they didn't love her.

What was that about? A half-baked brain? Marrying her would be like dumbing down the next generation.

But of course, she couldn't trash-talk Victoria in front of Maxwell, so she continued, "Then she'll bawl, and you swear your heart out, the more gruesome the vow, the better. Curse yourself to a

terrible fate, get struck by lightning, be impotent in your next life, whatever it takes to sound pitiful. After that, shower her with flowers, jewels, houses, cars, make it a spectacle outside her dance studio. The more showy, the better. If she says no, she means yes; if she says yes, that's also yes; if she tells you to scram, she wants you to hug her and beg for love. Bombard her with luxury gifts for a week straight, and she'll be all yours!"

Whether she'd get dumped afterward was anyone's guess - after all, there was precedent.

Maxwell watched her flushed, alluring face, his eyes masked with unspoken complexity, "You sure know her well. What about you? Would you agree if a guy came at you like that?"

She thought, “Agree, my foot!” She'd vomit yesterday's dinner. Thinking everyone had got the same bizarre taste as Victoria!

But to make her argument more convincing, Rosemary didn't hesitate to nod, "Yeah, so bro, you gotta hustle."

The man snorted, prying her hands off of him, "Bros don't wrap around each other's necks this close."

Missing the point completely, no wonder he got dumped!

Jason, a seasoned driver for decades, drove steadily, the car's temperature just right, lulling her into drowsiness. Before long, Rosemary succumbed to the booze and leaning against the backrest, dozed off.

The next day, Rosemary's eyes flung open from her slumber.

It took a good while of staring at the surrounding decor before she realized she was in Meadowlark Retreat's master bedroom, with the hangover hitting her the next second.

"Ugh."

Her head was pounding. She rubbed her temples, slowly getting up from the bed.

How the heck did she end up here? The last thing she remembered was knocking back drinks with Yolanda last night. As for how she left the private room and how she got back here, she drew a complete blank.

Rosemary glanced down at herself and noticed she was still in last night's outfit, all crumpled up from a night's sleep.

Feeling eyes on her, Rosemary followed the gaze and locked eyes with Maxwell, who was holding her phone in his hand.

Rosemary bolted up from the bed, not even bothering to slip on her shoes, and made a beeline barefoot toward Maxwell. She snatched her phone out of his hand, "Dude, where are your manners? Snooping through someone else's phone, really?"