Page 61 of Fighting Gravity

“Deal.”

“I need to pick up her ring in Old Town. There’s places to eat around there, right?”

She couldn’t answer for a moment. Rosie had forgotten that not all surprises, or secrets, were dark. Maybe she needed to remember that some secrets were made of light and love. “Definitely. Lots of tacos.”

Rosie could barely concentrate later that day while she helped Elle hang paintings and arrange furniture. Any time she made eye contact with Betti, they both teared up. Betti’s beautiful dark skin kept her emotions incognito, but Rosie couldn’t seem to get rid of her own nervous flush. She was a jittery mess, afraid she’d slip in some way. Max, Elle’s dad, hugged her more than once. Even Elle’s teenage brothers seemed excited. Elle had no idea the giddy vibe had little to do with the house, lovely as it was.

Rosie had just marked a wall with a pencil to hang another painting when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pressed the pencil between her lips as she checked the message. It was Tate. Heat swept up her chest again, following the familiar pattern.

You left me hanging.

Shehadleft him hanging, more often and in more ways than he likely deserved.

You said you knew what Chen was up to! I thought I was the second-to-last to know,she replied.

He only told me he was coming to get his girl. That was weeks ago.

Rosie grinned.He’s picking up the ring now. I’m going to bring him to Elle’s in a few hours.She paused, then fired off another message.Our friends are getting married! I’m so excited for them.

His answer was slower to come than she’d expected.Me, too. Everyone loves a happy ending.

Her smile faded.

Tate couldn’t think that Rosie had taken away his own happy ending, could he? He’d opened himself up to her, to possibility, so quickly. He was kind and generous and intuitive. Tate was meant to be a partner in life. The next woman he dated, or whatever they had been doing, would be lucky to know him. Lucky to love him.

For the next few hours, through the paintings and plants and patio furniture, Rosie tried not to think about how that woman couldn’t be her. She would be too suspicious of his motivations and her mistrust would wear on them both. Tate didn’t deserve suspicion. He deserved a happy ending, too, with someone who could give him one.

But later that evening, when Rosie walked up to Old Town Mexican Café and spotted a scruffy Chen standing there with a wide, dimpled grin, her own unhappy ending flew from her mind.

35

“Pretty Boy. Get your head out of the clouds.”

Tate snapped his attention to Gloria and smiled, which only earned him a deeper frown. “I don’t know what you mean, Gloria.”

She rolled her sharp blue eyes. “Please. You’re as bored by this party garbage as I am.” She wasn’t whispering. The caterer shot her an annoyed look.

At Quinn’s insistence, they were touring the banquet hall in Van Nuys where the Representation in Aerospace gala would take place in a few days. A sample table had been laid out with gray and white linens and green floral centerpieces. Blue uplighting illuminated the walls and tray ceiling. Quinn and the various vendors were finalizing menus, décor, seating arrangements, and order of events. Tate was there to sign checks. So far, Gloria had just grumbled. He tried to picture her in formalwear and just couldn’t get there. He’d never seen her out of faded jeans and her bomber jacket, of which the leather on the elbows had probably worn off sometime in the 1980s. Her aviators never left her mop of unruly hair. But she’d shown up, and she’d show up again Saturday. The gala would provide scholarships for students at her flight school, after all.

And Gloria was right. Tate was miles away, his brain hovering down the coast near San Diego. Chen was back, fully moved in with Elle in Del Mar. He’d proposed and they’d set a date for their wedding later in the year. Very likely, that wedding would be the next time he saw Rosie in person.

Every day, still, he composed texts to her and deleted them. He had a folder with a dozen email drafts of what he wanted to say. During their weekly construction meetings, Tate stared at her and daydreamed about interrupting the call with the words in his heart. He would not give up. Not on Rosie.

“We have a problem.”

Tate turned to his cousin. Fixing was his specialty. Usually. “What’s that?”

“Our table.” Quinn grimaced. “We forgot to take Rosie off the list. You don’t think she’ll come, do you?”

Tate shook his head. “I didn’t forget, but she won’t come.”

She nodded, sympathy painted on her face. “Then we’re going to need someone to take her place. I don’t want the head table to have an empty spot when OrbitAll is the platinum sponsor.”

“Why not invite Vadim?” he suggested. “He’s been busting his ass and could use a break.”

She blinked rapidly. Blotches climbed up her neck. He didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. Quinn controlled the messaging of the entire Geier empire. She managed the reputations of dozens of people of varying degrees of drama. She could put out a fire across the world by lifting a finger. One mention of Vadim and she broke.

She tapped her pen against the clipboard she was holding. “Where is that behemoth going to find a tux that fits him in the next two days?”

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