Page 36 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

He stiffens. “‘Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty.’”

Interesting. Shakespeare. I mentally roll up my sleeves.

I mock bow and retort, “‘Your lordship, though not clean past your youth, have yet some smack of an ague in you, some relish of the saltness of time in you.’”

Oh yeah. Two can play, buddy.

I see a sliver of a glint in his eye, just for a brief moment, and he switches gears.

He starts to circle me, and I counter-cross.

“‘To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable.’” It’s like he just threw down a challenge and is now waiting to see if I pick it up.

Oscar Wilde. Nice touch.I offer my own Wilde in return.

“Well, ‘the old believe everything; the middle-aged suspect everything; the young know everything.’” I pause and then add with a smile, “But I’m not quite young enough to know everything.”

He harrumphs. I’ll take that as a win.

Booker just stares. “Is this how theatre people fight?”

He abruptly turns his head to Booker. “Thisis who they sent us?”

“This is who theyhired,” Booker says, nodding toward me. “She obviously knows her stuff.”

“I have my BA in theatre from Northwestern University,” I say, because that really is the only notable thing on my résumé.

“Plus she lives in New York,” Booker says.

Arthur waves his bony hands around in circles. “Lah-de-dah.” He starts off in the opposite direction, and I glance helplessly at Booker, who glances helplessly back at me.

“I was in an episode ofLaw & Order!” I call after him.

“Everyone’s done an episode ofLaw & Order!” he hollers without looking back, and then he disappears behind another slammed door.

I look at Booker. “He’s old, but, boy, is he quick.”

“But you held your own, I think. I had no idea what you two were talking about.”

I shrug. “It’s one thing I’m good at. Memorization. I’ve got a lot of lines from random plays and books I’ve read stored right up here.” I tap on my temple. “Especially the classics.”

“He’ll warm up to you then,” Booker says. “And you want him on your side because he’s the guy who knows how this whole place works.”

Well, good. Maybe this Arthur guy can shed some light on the question that’s been bothering me since I woke up in Booker’s truck...

What in the world is this place?

Chapter 10

We’re about to leave the theatre building when a group of women burst down the hall like it’s 8:00 a.m. on Black Friday at Target. They’re chatting and laughing, and they all look a little sweaty.

At the sight of Booker, their cackling turns to murmuring, and, if I had to guess... admiring.

“Booker Hayes,” one of the women practically purrs.

“Ladies.” Booker smiles and takes his hat off, and it’s the first time I notice his messy, wavy, dark blond hair. It’s nice. He runs a hand through it, and I swear I can feel the ladies’ knees collectively buckle.

Or maybe those are just mine.

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