Page 25 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

“Have you driven one of these before?” I tease.

“Have you?” He rests his hand on the steering wheel like he’s out for an evening cruise. Somehow, he even manages to make driving a golf cart look cool.

I scoff. “No.” I point at myself. “Not a golfer, remember?”

“Ah, right. Well, it’s easy to learn,” he says, then clarifies, “the cart, not the golf. Golf will take a lot longer to learn.”

“Do I need to learn?”

“What, golf?”

I make a face. “No. Driving this cart.”

“You don’t have a car in your suitcase, right?”

Shoot. No. In New York I didn’t need a car, but here? Add that to the growing list of things I didn’t think about before I took this job.

Two old men walk by as we pull away from the row of parked carts. “Booker! Nice score!” He nods at me, wags his eyebrows, and I frown.

“New employee, Dennis,” he says, correcting him. “You doing your exercises?”

Dennis waves him off, and Booker shakes his head as he presses on the accelerator. “He’s a salty one. Harmless, but he likes to flirt.”

“Is he around a lot?” I ask as Booker drives us away from the clubhouse, past the tennis and pickleball courts.

“He lives on the property, so yes,” he says. “Most of the people you’ll work with live here, but some of the amenities are open to the community, so it’s a little bit of a mix.”

Lives on the property? Something’s niggling at the back of my brain about this place, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.

I agree with Luke Skywalker... I have a bad feeling about this. Especially considering how little research I did before applyingandbefore taking this job.

He slows the cart to a stop in front of a building with a sign outside that says Community Center.

“Every weekend, they do events here. Cooking classes. Bingo. Mixers for the people on-site to get out and be social. There are book clubs, knitting clubs, swing dance lessons—”

“Swing dance?Definitelya cult.”

“I’m pretty sure cults don’t have event planners.” He presses the accelerator, waving to an older couple in a golf cart as it passes. “The Abernathys,” he says. “They’re new here.”

As we drive down the wide sidewalk, he points out the Sunset dining hall up ahead and explains how my employee meal swipes work. “Basically, you’ll have plenty of food. Sunset is great about taking care of their employees. It’s honestly a great place to work.” As we pass by the building, he adds, “Oh, and you’vegotto try the frozen custard in there. Hot fudge, marshmallow, and a sprinkle of nuts...” He presses his fingers to his lips and does a pronounced chef’s kiss.

Two women wave at him as they walk past. “Morning, Booker!”

“Do you know everyone here?” I ask.

“It’s like a small town, and I work with pretty much everyone at some point,” he says. “You’ll see.”

“Very different from New York,” I say absently.

“Couldn’t be more different, actually.” He looks at me. “Are you going to be okay with that?”

“Me? Yeah, totally.” Which I hope is true but might not be.

He quirks a brow and nods at my small suitcase. “Because you’re holding on to your bag like it’s a life preserver.”

I relax my grip. “I’ll be fine.” My laugh sounds nervous in my own ears, so I fill the space with an obvious observation. “It’s so... green here.”

His eyes are back on the road, but I still feel his attention as if they’re fixed on me. “That’s what we call ‘nature.’”

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