Page 24 of Dear Rosie

Easy to be around.

My next exhale comes out in a huff, and I square my shoulders.

I’m going to finish making tonight’s food with Presley.

I’m going to make sure everything goes smoothly for Hannah and Maddox.

And I’m going to find a way to simply enjoy Nathan’s nearness before I never see him again.

Because I can’t see him again.

Taking a fortifying breath, I step out of the wonderfully stocked walk-in pantry. And the door—that’s disguised to look like a regular section of cupboard—closes behind me.

Presley is staring right at me.

“Look,” I sigh, but she bats her eyes.

“I don’t know anything about football players. I don’t have any time.” She mocks as she twists her fists under her eyes in a crying gesture.

It’s over the top. And precisely what I need.

A laugh bursts out of me, and I shake my head. “Oh, shut up.”

If everyone here wants to pretend that I’m fangirling instead ofwhat I’m actually doing, which is riding the fine line between a nervous breakdown and a panic attack, I’ll go with it.

As we get back to work, I use the fancy espresso maker that Hannah gave us free rein over. The double shot of caffeine will hopefully help focus my mind.

When Hannah hurries through the kitchen, I offer to make her a latte.

She accepts but then asks if I wouldn’t mind bringing it to the living room.

When the drink is ready, I hate my past self for making the offer, because all I want to do is hide in the kitchen. But as I carry the yellow mug across the house, I don’t run into any old friends.

“You’re a lifesaver.” Hannah takes the mug from me, smiling under a pile of curlers.

I ask the hairdresser if she’d like one, but the woman just grunts, so I take it as a no and make my way back to the kitchen.

The party is being held in the backyard, where tents, tables, and flowers are set up, and ribbons are flowing in the breeze.

Through the windows, I can see strings of lights hanging throughout the trees, and I just know it’s going to be magical.

I’ll miss walking through it since I volunteered to be the one who stays in the kitchen, making sure everything is heated at the right times and to the right temperatures.

Presley, along with two other women, who will show up in two hours, will act as waitstaff, carrying the trays around, swapping empty dishes for fresh ones, stocking the food tables.

It’s a good system. And today it will play into my desire to stay unnoticed.

Back in the kitchen, we fall into the routine.

And I almost forget about Nathan.

Almost forget that the house of cards I’ve built is being tapped on by a giant football player’s finger.

I almost forget. But then he saunters through the kitchen.

My jaw almost drops open because, sweet and savory Jesus, he looks like he belongs on a runway.

His six-foot-something frame is wrapped in a navy blue suit, with acrisp white shirt underneath and… hamburger help me, he’s wearing a bow tie.

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