Page 44 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

I shove my traitorous phone back in my pocket. “I admit nothing.”

He holds up his hands. “No stakes, no ties, no baggage. And I promise I’m not trying anything here. Just thought this mightbe a good detour. Change of scenery.” He pauses. “Since no one knows you, you could be yourself here.”

Hadn’t I thought the exact same thing only yesterday?

He leans back against the seat of the golf cart. “When this job ends, you’ll go back to your life, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

That comment doesn’t hit the way it should.

“Just think about it,” he says. “And let me know if you want to practice.”

“Answering questions,” I say.

“Being honest.”

I make a display of cringing. “Sounds awful.”

He smirks. “Might be good to have a friend here?”

“You think I need a friend?”

“I think everyone needs friends,” he says. “And I am one of the few people here who was probably born the same decade as you.”

I muse.

He cocks his head slightly. “Could be fun, Rosie.”

I definitely like the way he says my name.

With that, he drives off, leaving me standing there, certain that I don’t need to think any more about his offer because his offer is about honest sharing.

And the feelings I’m having right now are not ones I would ever volunteer to share.

Chapter 12

Another fantastic night’s sleep.

I wake up refreshed, and now I’m sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee and contemplating this whole retirement community debacle when my phone buzzes and I see I’ve got a new alert from Connie with the subject line: Orientation Meeting. “Oh, shoot. I guess I’m late for a meeting?” I glance up. “On a Saturday?”

“Let me guess... Connie?” Daisy is standing at the counter eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes. To her credit, she only asked me a few questions when I returned from the theatre tour with Booker. I answered none of them, which she decided meant that I’m now carrying a torch for him.

“She hasn’t quite got a handle on how to schedule meetings so everyone knows they’re happening. Just shoot her a text and tell her you’re on the way. I’ll drive you over until they assign you your own golf cart.”

“I’ve never driven a golf cart.”

She laughs. “You can drive a car, right?”

“Well, yeah,” I say, though until I came home, I hadn’t in years. In New York you don’t need one.

I send the text to Connie and pour the rest of the coffee down the drain.

Despite the fact that I’m internally freaking out about the best job I’ve gotten in ages being in a retirement community, thewhole place issonice. Nicer than anywhere I’ve ever lived outside of my parents’ house. The job isn’t at all what I thought I’d agreed to, but it definitely has its perks.

Even though the pros to this job are starting to pile up, the one con is a very big one. I have a flash of a future casting director looking over my résumé and pausing onCinderella.

Still, none of this changes the fact that of all those résumés and auditions I submitted, this is the only offer I got.

“Okay, you ready?” Daisy grabs her bag from the hooks by the front door, interrupting my thought spiral. “I’ll drop you off at the clubhouse. I’m sure Connie will let you follow her back. It can be a little confusing at first—it’s a pretty big place—but once you drive it a few times, it’ll get easy.” She holds up two fingers and says, “Promise.”

---