“Let’s take a fondant to Flora as well,” Rose let out, offering a smile to Roma, who stood next to her, while she admired the pastries that looked absolutely divine.
“Sure,” he responded readily.
The woman behind the counter appeared to be ready to faint. Rose felt for her. After all, the woman didn’t know who she was dealing with but could feel the danger – or maybe she did, hence her unease.
Her hands shook ever so slightly, even as she packed the pastries for them.
When Roman finally pressed his credit card into Rose’s palm, so she could pay, she raised an eyebrow at him in a questioning manner.
“I don’t want the vendor to die of fright,” he shrugged in his usual devil-may-care attitude.
Rose merely smiled while the woman – whose name was Clara – blushed to the roots of her
