Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

I let my affection for Rosie fill my smile. “Yeah. She’s at home with our sick cat.”

I mentally pat myself on the back for the homey picture I painted with that sentence.

“Oh.” Cindy shifts on her feet.

“You headed to the speaker in room C?” I change the topic.

Cindy shakes her head. “I’m on a panel in F in about thirty.”

“Nice.” It really is nice. More women should be speaking at thisconvention, so awkwardness aside, I’m glad she’s here. “You still with the same company?”

She nods. “Yeah, I was promoted to project manager this past spring.”

“That’s awesome. Congrats.”

“Thanks.” She pauses. “So, how’d you meet your girlfriend?”

I’m a little surprised Cindy is bringing the topic back up. But the question makes me picture the moment Rosie and I met as adults. Her standing in Maddox’s doorway, me thinking she was a fan.

“She runs her own catering company and was hired for my best friend’s wedding. It was love at first sight.” I grin. “At least for me. She’s taken some convincing.”

Cindy laughs politely. “Lucky lady.”

I shake my head. “Lucky me.”

ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-ONE

ROSALYN

I heave out a breath, then answer Nathan’s call.

“Morning, Rosie Posie.” He’s grinning at me. Like he knows I’m still processing his little declaration of love yesterday.

And, of course, I’m still processing.

Who drops theLbomb randomly like that?

Did he say it because he really believes he loves me? Or was he just saying it to get that Cindy woman to back off?

And why would he need to say something so drastic to get her to leave him alone?

What sort of history do they have? Because they have to have some sort of history, or else she wouldn’t have saidcatch uplike she did.

“Show me your feet.” Nathan is still smiling.

I roll my eyes and tap the screen to turn on the front-facing camera.

I’m on the couch, with my feet propped up on a pillow on top of the coffee table.

“Following doctor’s orders,” I tell him dryly. Then I pan to my lap, where Charles is lying on his back, his head between my knees and his feet in the air. “We both are.”

Nathan laughs, then coos, “Aw, look at you two.”

I flip the camera back so it’s facing me.

He’s in his hotel room, dressed, but the top buttons of his shirt are still open, and he’s lounging on his bed.

“Have you slept with Cindy?” I can’t contain the question any longer. I need to know.