Page 40 of Roses for Rosie

We spent the rest of the day lounging on the beach and getting to know each other. Now we are back in the room getting ready for the big party tonight. I can’t believe I am going to spend the evening with the biggest names in publishing. I’ve seen these names on the books I shelve and sell every day. Their award ceremony pictures are plastered all over the magazines I read. I never thought I would actually meet any of them.

I look down at the dress Adam bought me and feel a boost of confidence. Rosie Todd, who works at Nooks and Books in Jamesville by day and takes care of her alcoholic father by night, would never fit in at this party. In this dress though, I feel transformed. A gown like this is like a suit of armor made of poise and courage with a dash of sex appeal sprinkled on top. In this dress I could take on the world.

I twirl around in a circle, watching the skirt billow around me. Maybe I will take on the world, I think. I never imagined I would get on a plane or go snorkeling. Adam makes anything possible though.

“Rosie. Are you ready?” Adam calls through the bedroom door.

“Coming.” I open the door and step into the living area.

“I loved that dress when I saw it on the rack, but it’s even more stunning with you in it.”

“Thank you,” I reply, walking up to him and taking his arm.

Another limousine whisks us off to the party and delivers us right to the door. Adam gets out first and reaches a hand down to help me to my feet. Flashes from cameras wielded by employees of a variety of magazines and newspapers burst in my eyes.

“Smile,” Adam says gently, looking down at me like I am a precious gift. I smile back up at him, honestly and openly, forgetting about the cameras for a moment and basking in Adam’s affection. This night is perfect already and it hasn’t even begun yet.

When we get inside, I am astounded by the crowd. I’ve never seen so many people dressed so formally before, at least not unless I was watching them on TV. Adam takes my hand and leads me to a relatively quiet corner where he points out the people he knows and the people whose names he thinks I will recognize.

When a waiter bearing a tray full of bubbly champagne flutes walks by, Adam snags two glasses for us. He hands one to me and lifts his in the gesture of a toast.

“To intriguing beginnings and happily ever after endings.”

I raise my glass to his and tap it lightly before taking a sip. The bubbles tickle my nose, and I am surprised by how sweet the drink is. I’ve had a few glasses of cheap boxed wine before, but nothing like this. I decide that I love it and take another careful sip. I’ve seen up close what too much alcohol can do to a person and I don’t want to take any chances of ruining tonight by drinking too much.

“Adam, there you are,” a woman I do not recognize says to Adam, approaching us and giving me an appraising look.

I stand a little taller, appreciating my suit of armor and the fortifying sips of champagne. I can do this. I can fit in with this crowd. Adam is by my side and he clearly thinks I belong here. I smile at the new woman, welcoming her.

“Jan. I was wondering when we would run into you.”

“Hiding in a corner like this, you’re lucky I found you. Or maybe you didn’t want to be found.” Jan looks at me, questioningly.

“Rosie, this is Jan, my agent. Jan, this is Rosie, my girlfriend.”

Did he just say girlfriend? He did. He said girlfriend. My heart does a tap dance in my chest. Adam just called me his girlfriend. Am I really his girlfriend? I’ve never been anyone’s girlfriend before.

I pick my astonishment up off the floor and do my best to look composed as I shake Jan’s hand. Composure is so far from what I am feeling right now that I’m sure I fail miserably.

Jan raises her eyebrows and glances at Adam before looking back at me.

“Congratulations,” she says. She looks back to Adam, her expression serious now. “Make sure you say hello to Jason.”

“I know,” he replies.

“And Zachary.”

“And John and Ashley. We went over this already. I know I’m here to work.”

“Looks like a little more pleasure is taking place than working,” she deadpans.

“Message received, loud and clear, Mom.”

“I hate to be a nag, but you pay me too much for me not to do my job and my job is to make sure you do yours. Have fun, kids.” She waggles her fingers at us as she walks away.

“Time to mingle?” I ask.

“You don’t mind?”

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