The Bennett Brothers
Author
Jessica Morel
Reads
386K
Chapters
17
Rosemary Dalton and Thomas Bennett cross paths... suspiciously often. Until one day they meet.
After that neither can get the other one out of their head. It's just not that simple. Can Rose learn how to trust Thomas? Can Thomas slow down enough to let Rose in?
Chapter 1
Serendipitous Encounters
ROSEMARY
Rosemary Daltonās days in the Winters Gallery blur togetherāManhattanās elite doesnāt have time to actually look at art, so she spends her days literally watching paint dry. Until this Friday, when Alexander Bennett enters her shop and completely upends her world.
With a sigh, Rose looks around at the empty art gallery. It isnāt empty of art, no. The place is jam-packed with paintings; there are just no customers. At least, no walk-ins.
The Winters Gallery on Sixth Street has plenty of clients, but they are of a higher socioeconomic standing. They have better things to do than choose which overpriced pigments will decorate the walls of their overpriced homes, so Rose does it for them.
As an art dealer with such clientele, she has come across a lot of people who buy based on the artistās name rather than the art. She could slap a turd on a canvas, claim it is a van Gogh, and convince any New York elitist to put away a few dozen grand on it.
Rose has always enjoyed art; she creates her own on occasion but only for herself. Maybe one day her art will cover the walls of her own familyās home.
An NYU art history and business management major who desires nothing more than to live her parentsā lifeāthat is Rose.
Maria and Anthony Dalton are the quintessential perfect couple. They were high school sweethearts who married young, had children, and opened a successful bakery in Brooklyn. They spend every moment of their days together, and Rose has never heard them fight.
They have that rare, special something, and Rose is almost certain she has found that with her beau of two months, Eric Holmes.
Although they havenāt been together long, he has done nothing but showered her with affection, attention, and gifts since day one, and Rose has fallen for him hard.
She leans against the marble counter, tempted to pull out her phone, but she knows that if she does, the Gremlin will appearāthat would be just her luck.
Elizabeth Winters, aka the Gremlin, the haggard, pearl-clad snob who owns the gallery, is as cold as her name suggests. And despite Roseās gratitude for landing a job in such a prestigious establishment straight out of college, Ms. Winters remains a woman of nightmares.
Rose sighs again, tapping her 2B pencil against the table and watching it bounce off the wood.
āAm I interrupting?ā a deep voice asks.
Startled, Rose looks up and gasps at who she sees.
Entering the gallery is a well-dressed man with a familiar face. His brown hair is expertly trimmed, and the tight tailoring of his suit leaves little to the imagination, showing off his muscular shoulders.
Itās him! Heās the guy!
Butterflies dance in her stomach as her mind flashes through the times her and her mystery manās paths have crossed over the past twelve years. But on second glance, this stranger doesnāt look entirely like him.
Rose studies his features while he strolls around the gallery, ignoring her, which tells her definitively that heādespite the uncanny resemblanceāis not her man. She sighs, shaking her head, unable to stop the disappointment welling up inside her.
The way he holds himself as he looks around the space exudes an air of pompousness, which Rose sees all the time in the clientele. āThis is why your gallery comes so highly recommended,ā the man says.
She canāt tell if that is a question or a statement, if he is being dismissive or genuinely impressed. However, when he turns his nose up at some of the paintings, she catches on. She canāt help but smile as she notices that the man has similar tastes to her own.
After smoothing out the lines in her navy pencil skirt, she walks around the counter, saying, āIf these arenāt to your liking, we can help you find what youāre looking for. Or we can offer privately commissioned pieces.ā
He hums, not giving a definitive answerāand still ignoring her.
Rose finds herself studying him again. He looks almost exactly like her mystery man: same hair color, full lips, high nose, chiseled jaw, facial bone structure, build, andā
A sniffle from the doorway pulls Rose from her thoughts. She spins to face the figure standing there and sees that it is a woman she actually does know.
āBenny? Hi,ā Rose says, approaching her.
Bernadette Carroll, a longtime regular at her parentsā bakery, has a frazzled look in her eyes as they make contact with Roseās extended hand. āOh!ā she says, fumbling with the two phones, notebook, and pen in her hands. āRose, how are you?ā
Rose giggles as they awkwardly shake. āIām good. Can Iā¦help you with something?ā
Stray hairs escape from Bennyās bun, which screams practicality instead of style. āNo. I believe heās just perusing,ā Benny says with a small smile before giving her attention to one of the phones.
āSo, heās your infamous boss?ā Rose asks. āHe seems more intense than you described.ā
āThatās Mr. Alexander Bennett for you,ā Benny answers with a nod.
Bennett.
Why is that so familiar?
Bennett.
Bennett.
āThese,ā he orders in a loud grunt, his voice drawing Roseās attention behind her.
She jumps, turns, and panics when she sees a shadow moving in the back room. āOh, Iām very sorry, sir, but that room is staff only,ā she says, jogging over to him with her politest smile.
āI want these,ā he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Roseās heart leaps into her throat, filling with both pride and fear. He is pointing at her paintings, the ones she put there just this morning so she could take them to Ericās apartment after work.
āUmā¦those arenāt for sale.ā Rose steps toward him, her fists clenched to stop her hands from wringing.
āNonsense. Everythingās for sale.ā Mr. Bennett brushes her words aside. āIāll take these five.ā He spins to look at her. āAnd another twenty-five by the end of the month.ā
Rose is dumbfounded, stunned into silence. He likes my work so much?
Seemingly taking her silence for agreement, he leaves the small space and heads back to the front door. Raising a hand in a sort of wave, he says, āTell the artist to get to work. Carroll here will sort out the details.ā
And then, like a whirlwind that dissipates after disrupting the calm, Alexander Bennett is gone.
What on earth just happened?
