Page 5 of Roses for Rosie

“Mr. Smythe, sir. I feel the need to apologize for my completely unprofessional and inappropriate…”

“No need to apologize. That was the most fun I’ve ever had planning one of these events. I’m looking forward to meeting you in person. I can’t wait to experience the personal service you mentioned.”

“Oh, god,” she wails.

I chuckle. I have to admit I’m kind of enjoying her misery. The whole situation is pretty hilarious.

“Mr. Smythe. We don’t really offer those services.”

“Which one, the pole dance or the lap dance?”

“Neither,” she squeaks.

“Maybe you should consider changing your policy then. You would literally be flooded with offers for readings. I know I’d come every week. Pun intended.”

“Mr. Smythe!” I hear her collect herself. “Would next Friday at seven o’clock be an acceptable time for you?”

It looks like the seductress is gone and the boring, small town bookstore employee is back. Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.

“Yes, next Friday at seven would be fine.”

“Excellent. I will send you confirmation and pre-event details to this phone number tomorrow.”

She disconnects the call, leaving me musing about who she really is. Which of the women I just talked to is the real one? Is she the straight-laced good girl or is there a wild child lurking just beneath the surface? Which of those women will I meet next Friday?

Chapter 3

Rosie

Gales of laughter sweep through the bookstore as I recount my phone call with Adam to the rest of the book club.

“It’s not funny!” I protest.

“I beg to differ Objectively, this is hilarious. If Adam Smythe wrote this in one of his books, you would be falling out of your chair laughing. Subjectively,” Susie pauses, “I can see how the situation is less than amusing.”

I bury my head in my hands and try to sink into the floor. The circle of cozy armchairs in the middle of the store is perfect for book club meetings, but they also work well as dens to hide from the cruel world in. Maybe I could just hibernate until Adam Smythe forgets all about me and Jamesville. The idea is certainly tempting.

“You really told him you would give him a lap dance?” Joanne asks. “What possessed you to say such a thing?”

“Yes, I did. And it’s all her fault.” I point at Susie. “I thought Susie had George prank call me after her comment the other night about him calling me to hook up.”

Susie gives me a mock hurt look and then bursts into laughter again. “So you thought you were seducing my husband. Let me tell you from personal experience, girl, the whole routine would be wasted on that man. If you are going to let your wild side out though, Adam Smythe is the one to do it with. I read an article about him and his girlfriend, Scarlett Smith, the other day. Hang on,” she turns around in her chair to look at the rack of magazines behind her. She flips through the latest issue of People magazine, stopping when she reaches the page she was looking for. “Here, look at this.”

Adam is kissing Scarlett in full glossy technicolor and by kissing I mean giving her a tonsil exam with his tongue while slipping his hand under her shirt. I take a closer look at the picture. Were they really doing this in public or did some paparazzi maniac set up a zoom lens on their bedroom window? No, this picture was taken outside of one of Adam’s reading events. I see the storefront in the background of the image. Talk about unprofessional!

“Hot and heavy!” I reply, tossing the magazine on the coffee table in the middle of our circle of chairs. “Why exactly would I want to let my wild side out with a man who is clearly taken?”

“Because he isn’t taken anymore. The picture was taken a few weeks ago. The article was about how they just broke up and Adam is single again.”

“Ha. Like that even matters. We already had this conversation. He would never be interested in someone like me.”

“If you keep talking dirty to him on the phone he might,” Susie laughs.

I stick my tongue out at her and sink further into my pit of shame and despair.

Vivian sits in the corner, her face inscrutable. I can’t imagine that she isn’t mad at me. I am her employee after all. She trusts me to talk to customers, authors, suppliers, publishers, caterers, and everyone else who might call and to represent Nooks and Books in a professional way. She always says that I am her right hand and that she wouldn’t be able to run the shop without me.

I hate that I have disappointed her. I wouldn’t blame her if she wanted to fire me, but she refuses to give me the satisfaction of a punishment. I guess she does still need someone to plan this event, but Donald Duck would be a better choice for event planner for the bookstore at this point than me.

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