“See you tomorrow,” I told Alexandra. She nodded. Alexandra had been quiet since she caught Rosie and I together on Monday. I thought she was still too grossed-out to form complete sentences, but now I was beginning to wonder if it wasn’t something else.
Alexandra and I had been through a lot together over the years. Clients had come and gone, business had been good, and not so good. We’d both worked a number of unconventional assignments. She was great at what she did. However, we’d never crossed the professional boundaries and had a personal conversation. Tonight, I felt compelled to change that.
“Are you ok?” I asked. “You’ve been quiet lately.”
She looked up at me from her desk. “My sister just opened her own business. A bakery.”
I blinked. I hadn’t known Alexandra had a sister. “That’s great.”
Alexandra nodded. “She’s only twenty-two.” She pursed her lips. “I’m so jealous I could just die.”
I remembered the feeling I first had when I saw Ian play with Axial Tilt. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m twenty-eight years old. She’s twenty-two and already more successful than me. I mean, I love her, and I’m so happy for her, but at the same time I hate her. Is that normal.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I think it is.”
I’d always felt that way watching Ian play. He was obscenely good at what he did. It came so easily for him, and even when his addiction was at its peak, he was so talented that he never hurt for money or attention. That’s not to say that he was happy or healthy. He wasn’t. But seeing him appear to be successful when I struggled to earn my way had always driven me up the goddamn wall.
“I thought I’d be in law school by now,” Alexandra said after a moment. “I thought I’d be further along.”
“You want to go to law school?” I asked, surprised. Alexandra, unlike Rosie, would be a phenomenal lawyer.
Alexandra laughed and nodded. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you all this.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re my boss.” She shook her head. “I’ll try not to bring my shit to work anymore.”
I blinked at her. “Alexandra, you’re allowed to be a human being.” I hadn’t realized that she was one, but I was glad that she was. The fact that her whole hard-bitten act was, well, an act, was good. “I’m sorry if I ever made you think you couldn’t be yourself at work.”
She shook her head again. “I know you’re busy. I just try to be professional.”
“You can be both.”
She smiled a tiny, cold little smile. “Thanks Ryan. You should check out my sister’s shop when you can. It’s really good. It’s called ‘Natasha’s ’. Actually, I’ll bring in some of her muffins and scones tomorrow if you want.”
“That would be awesome.” I loved muffins and scones. If this new version of Alexandra came with baked goods, then this whole awkward conversation would definitely be worth it. “See you tomorrow.”
I was already considering how I could get Alexandra to Rosie’s LSAT prep class. It was already paid for, and all the supplies had been purchased. It would be a waste for her not to go…
“See you tomorrow Ryan.” Alexandra winked at me. “Have fun with Rosie!”
I got out of there as quickly as I could, afraid that I’d opened a door with Alexandra that I wouldn’t be able to close again.
36
Rosie
“Wow.” I stared into the mirror in disbelief. “Just, wow.”
“Is that a good wow, or bad wow?” asked Tommy, the hair stylist that had just spent the better part of four hours transforming me. His voice was nervous, but hopeful.
“Oh, it’s a very, very good wow,” I replied. I touched the soft, slightly wavy platinum blonde strands. “It’s the best wow.”
Tommy laughed and clutched his heart like he had just narrowly avoided a heart attack. “Thank god.”
I could barely believe what I was seeing. I looked like a totally different person. A stranger was staring back at me from the mirror. Then, I looked closer. My almond shaped eyes were still there. Their odd, pond-scum green color was still there, although they looked almost emerald with the new hair. My nose was still there. My lips were still there. It was still me in the mirror. Just a better, much more fashionable version of me.
The cut was almost as different as the color. No longer did my hair fall in looping ringlets past my bra strap. Now it was a sophisticated medium length, and a number of products had toned down it’s natural poofy-ness. It lay in tame layers over my shoulders, feeling lighter than air and silky soft.
“Tommy,” I said, turning to look at him, “you’re a genius.”
He grinned. “Oh, go on.”
Ryan had told me that this was where Victoria got her hair cut, but when I’d shown up at the address, I hadn’t been sure. The salon was in an old, somewhat run-down mansion in a corner of east Austin that still hadn’t been reached by the inevitable slow march of gentrification. From the outside, one might expect an antebellum mansion, replete with dark colors, the smell of mothballs, and ancient furniture.
Inside, was a totally different story. Each room was painted a different, super-bright color. Huge, modern crystal chandeliers lit the space with a warm, welcoming glow. Walls had been knocked down and rearranged to turn what used to be a home into a bustling salon. There were hair stylists, aestheticians, manicurists, makeup artists… it was heavenly.
For once in my life, I felt absolutely no guilt laying down my dad’s credit card to pay for my extremely expensive, extremely gorgeous new hair. Or the enormous tip I gave Tommy, who absolutely deserved it. My dad had enthusiastically endorsed my trip to the salon, telling me that I ‘deserved a day at the spa’ after being turned out of my apartment and having to replace everything I owned. I couldn’t help but agree.
It turns out that losing everything you own to a police crime scene turns out to be pretty stressful after a couple of days. I had to re-buy almost everything that I owned, right down to socks, deodorant, and toothpaste. It had been an expensive and instructive lesson on having renter’s insurance. I would definitely never make that mistake again.
Adding to the overall bizarreness of it all, I ran into Victoria at the salon’s entrance.
“Oh my god, Rosie! You went blonde!” she cried by way of a greeting. She hugged me, and I staggered backwards in what was mostly shock. Being hugged by Victoria was a bit like being hugged by an ostrich. She was so incredibly tall and bony that it unbalanced me.
“Someone who’s advice I value suggested it would look nice,” I said with a grin.
She grinned right back. “Did Ryan tell you that flattery will get you everywhere? Because it will get you everywhere. Are you excited for Friday?”
“If by excited you mean terrified, then yes.” I still could hardly believe that Victoria thought enough of me to let me open for her.
“You’re going to do great.” Her confidence in me made me even more nervous. She paused when she saw my expression. “Do you want me to listen to your set beforehand?”
I blinked. “You’d do that?”
She shrugged her bony shoulders. “Sure. I don’t mind at all. It’ll be fun. We could do it Thursday night if you want.” She grinned. “It’ll be a girls night in.”
Victoria was much nicer than I thought someone so famous would be. Then again, Ian and Jason had been nice to me, too. I knew that the music business was known for being cutthroat and competitive, but knowing Ryan seemed to be making all the difference.
“That would be amazing.” I’d played my set for Ryan and Trina twice already, but Victoria was more objective. She wouldn’t be as worried about hurting my feelings if my performance needed work. Plus, since I was opening for her, she’d want to make sure my set was solid. Otherwise the crowd would be in a bad mood by the time she got on stage.
“Cool,” she said. “I’ll text you my address and you can meet me there around… eight maybe?”
“Absolutely,�
�� I stuttered. Saying that was feeling shocked and flattered was a true understatement. I was flabbergasted.
“Great, I’ll see you there.”
Then she swept off, leaving me feeling even more unreal than I had before.
“Holy cow,” Trina said when I arrived home. She did a double-take from her position on our new (well, used) couch, where she was playing a game on her Nintendo. “You look amazing!”
Feeling bold, I did a little spin for her. I’d finally taken her advice and started dressing better. Today, I was wearing black leggings, black knee-high boots, and a deep, marine blue tunic. The clothes were all second hand, but they still looked a lot better than my previous wardrobe. My new bright blonde hair popped against the dark colors. I’d even opted for makeup today, wearing eyeliner and a pinky-red lip stain. I looked more put together than I had in ages, and it felt surprisingly great.
“Seriously,” Trina said, rising up to get a better look at me. “You look like a rock star.”
I grinned. “That’s the idea, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Damn right that’s the idea.” She pulled out her phone and snapped a couple of pictures. “I’m so glad you let me pick all your new clothes.” I suspected she was also glad that the police still had ninety-nine percent of my old ones as well.
“Me too,” I admitted. “It was time to move beyond athleisure.”
My admission made her squeal. “Thank you, Jesus,” she said, addressing the deity by staring up at the ceiling as if Jesus lived upstairs. “Thank you for making Rosie see the light and put the yoga pants away.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think Jesus has time to worry about my clothes.”
“Oh hush,” she replied. “Your old clothes were a sin and you know it.”
I didn’t argue. She smirked in satisfied reply.
“So, are you going out with Ryan tonight?” she asked leadingly. She knew me well enough to guess that I hadn’t gotten all done up just cause. I grinned in reply and giggled again.
“We’re going on a real date,” I finally told her. “Like grown-ups do.” It was our first ‘proper’ date. We’d spent plenty of nights at Ryan’s place lately, making love and snuggling. This morning he’d texted that he wanted to take me out somewhere nice. I’d been wondering all day what that could mean.
A knock on our door told me that I wouldn’t have to wonder for much longer. Trina gave me a high-five and slunk off deeper in the apartment. I squared my shoulders and headed toward the door.
37
Ryan
Renting out the entire fancy movie theater might have been overkill, but I refused to feel bad about it. It wasn’t that expensive. Rosie’s eyes got huge when she realized we had it all to ourselves and made it instantly worth it. I laughed at her expression.
“Nobody else?” she questioned. “Just us?” She stared around the empty space in disbelief. It was a busy Wednesday evening at the theater, so walking into the silent, cavernous room had been an especially big surprise.
“Well,” I clarified, “not just us. Also, the wait staff.”
The wonderful thing about renting out this particular Austin theater—in addition to the leather recliners—meant that we would also have access to the full kitchen and bar. Right on cue, a smiling waitress arrived in front of us.
“Welcome. Can I get you any drinks started?” she asked. She was probably excited that she only had two people to serve instead of two hundred.
“I just want some water,” I said. I looked over at Rosie. “What do you want, Rosie?”
Rosie blinked. “I think I’d like a Shirley Temple.”
There was never any forgetting that my new girlfriend was nineteen. Virgin drinks aside, the woman consumed more sugar than a hummingbird.
The waitress grinned. “Sure. Coming right up. I’ll be back in a minute to get your food orders.”
Rosie shook her head in bemused disbelief. “I can’t believe we have this whole place to ourselves.”
“And I still can’t believe your hair is blonde,” I replied. I was awestruck. I couldn’t stop staring, just to make sure it was really her.
Rosie had been incredibly gorgeous before. I loved her long, brown curls and laid-back style. But the sexy little ingenue I met on Saturday had now been replaced with a woman with so much sex appeal that I could barely believe she could be mine. Bombshell didn’t begin to describe her.
“Do you like it?” Rosie asked. She drew a nervous hand through the shining strands.
“I love it,” I told her honestly. She’d be gorgeous even if she was as bald as an egg, but her blonde hair was absolutely beautiful. I was rewarded with a kiss.
“I love it, too,” she said after a moment. “My YouTube channel reacted positively as well.”
I nodded. I’d seen the unbelievable reaction for myself when I watched her most recent video. Saying that they reacted ‘positively’ was a bit of an understatement. They’d positively lost their collective shit. In fact, I’d been right alongside her fans, staring in utter shock when I saw Rosie. She hadn’t warned me that her hair appointment was today, although I suspected she skipped her geometry test to get it done. Consistent with my decision not to second guess her decisions, I was not going to mention it.
Rosie had used the time to also post a cover song today. She didn’t do that very often. Other than the song by Joe Cocker, today’s posting was the only cover up on her page. So, when the first few chords of Massive Attack’s Teardrop started to issue from Rosie’s guitar, I almost didn’t recognize it.
Love, love is a verb
Love is a doing word
Fearless on my breath
Gentle impulsion
Shakes me, makes me lighter
Fearless on my breath
Teardrop on the fire
Fearless on my breath
Night, night of matter
Black flowers blossom
Fearless on my breath
Black flowers blossom
Fearless on my breath
Teardrop on the fire
Fearless on my
Water is my eye
Most faithful mirror
Fearless on my breath
Teardrop on the fire
Of a confession
Fearless on my breath
Most faithful mirror
Fearless on my breath
Teardrop on the fire
Fearless on my breath
It's tumbling down (as in love falling apart)
It's tumbling down (as in love falling apart)
As always, Rosie nailed it. With just an acoustic guitar, she modified and arranged the song to not only work, but shine. The tripling notes that beginning were both crystalline and hypnotizing. The delicate, reverberating sound made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. And her voice was such a beautiful, plaintive counterpoint that I’d put the song on loop. It had made reviewing the royalty agreement I was working on that afternoon a lot more pleasant. Although I hesitate to admit that I ever enjoy reading royalty agreements, this one hadn’t been half bad.
I could see Rosie opening shows with a cover like that. I could see audiences begging her to sing it. It was hard to see Rosie not playing the song on Friday. It would be a crime if she didn’t.
“So, what movie are we watching?” I asked Rosie, attempting to break myself from the memory. I could watch her videos any time. Right now, I wanted to spend my time with the real thing.
She blinked at me. Her green eyes looked even brighter and more vibrantly green with her new hair color.
“I don’t know.”
I slid the ‘menu’ over to her. “Well pick one out.”
Her lips parted in surprise and then curved up into a smile. “You’re spoiling me, you know that? Other movies are going to be no fun after this.”
“When you’re a gigantic superstar,” I told her, “you can have a theater better than this one in your house.” Jason Kane had one in his condo. It was ridiculous and
filled me with constant jealousy, even though all he ever did was watch football on it. These days, he probably watched Disney movies on it.
Rosie merely smirked. “I have a feeling that’s a long way off.”
Not as far as she thought. I’d already begun setting up advertisements for her page, and ways to capitalize on and increase her audience. The truth was that her fans were ravenous enough for her that they wouldn’t hold it against her to make a bit of income from their presence. I was working with an advertising company that specialized in discreet, targeted advertising. There was a delicate balance to maintain, and too much monetization would push her subscribers away. But if we did everything carefully, and we did it right, Rosie wouldn’t have to worry about needing her father’s money for much longer.
“Just promise you’ll invite me over sometimes,” I told her.
In my heart, I knew that I was falling in love with someone that was going to outgrow me. Rosie was meant for stardom. Soon, she’d likely realize that I wasn’t enough for her. But for now, even if it was just for now, she was mine.
As if to prove it, Rosie snuggled closer to me in her chair and set her head against my shoulder. “Ok Ryan. I promise.”
Soon—maybe sooner than I even realized—our scheme to placate her father would come crashing down. He’d figure out that she was not the least bit discouraged from her dream. He’d figure out that I’d done the exact opposite of what I’d been tasked to do. He’d be furious and fire me. I knew that. I almost didn’t care.
Because what I was getting in return, even though I knew it was temporary, was incredible. Rosie was precious to me in a way that I didn’t even know how to express to her. There were no words to explain how much Rosie had done to bring me out of myself.
Jen’s death all those years ago had killed a part of me, too. It had killed the part of me that believed that it was possible for me to be this happy. The optimistic, carefree version of Ryan had died on that dark, cold highway.
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