Page 63 of Fighting Gravity

Rosie’s smile collapsed. “Excuse me?”

Anne’s own grin hitched. “Oh. I assumed he sent them to us both. Hehastold you about the homeless housing project, hasn’t he?”

The words made sense in and of themselves, but strung together? And coming from Anne? About Tate?

“Homeless housing project?” she echoed.

Anne sighed. “Well, I guess I ruined that surprise. Tate took your drawings and got them built. They’re beautiful, Rosie. Real homes for real people. They’re all over Seattle.”

She didn’t reply. She could hardly breathe.

“Do you want to see them?” Anne asked kindly.

Rosie nodded and ventured into Anne’s domain to peek at the pictures that had just turned her into a world-class jerk. The housing project was Tate’s mysterious gift. The reason he’d been in her office without telling her. Tate had not meant to harm her, just as he’d promised. He’d remained his steadfast, altruistic self, and she had mistrusted him for it.

Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of a row of vibrant pink homes full of life. She loved the color. The plants, flags, dogs. Her drawings come to life, but more so. “What have I done?” she murmured.

“Changed a lot of lives with an idea, Ambrosia.”

Rosie gave a tearful chuckle. Anne only dropped her detested full name when she was trying to get through to her. “I don’t mean the housing.”

“Ah.” Anne nodded, minimizing the photo she’d pulled up. She swiveled in her chair so she faced Rosie full-on. “It’s never too late. Leave no kind word unsaid.”

An interesting mantra coming from her taciturn administrative assistant.

“I’ll think about it,” Rosie agreed. For the rest of the day and into the night, she did.

She stayed in bed Saturday morning, rereadingHarry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkabanfor the zillionth time. The surprise of Sirius Black being the good guy made that particular book her favorite. Usually in life, that surprise went the other way. Not with Sirius. Not with Tate. He’d followed through on her dream even when she’d burned his to ash.

Her doorbell rang sometime around lunch. She knew it had to be afternoon because her stomach was growling. She’d been in thatone more chaptermindset for the past hour, promising herself a sandwich when she finished. After, she’d grocery shop for the week. Her wild Saturday plans.

Of course, she did have options. The invite for Tate’s gala that she’d originally agreed to attend with him hung on her fridge. Opening the invite had sent her heart into a frenzy. Why had she been invited? An oversight? Or a passive plea from Tate?

She rolled out of bed and finger combed her hair as she padded barefoot to her door. She spied her sister through the peephole. Unfathomably, Violet held a Nordstrom bag in her hands.

“What in the world?” she muttered as she unlocked the door. “Violet?”

Violet’s gaze swept her rumpled form. “Wow. I haven’t seen you in pajamas since we were kids.”

Rosie could comment on Violet’s clothes, too. For once, she had on clothes that fit, feminine pieces that didn’t look like they came from Hot Topic. “It’s Saturday morning.” And her own damn business if she wanted to stay in pj’s half the day.

“It wasn’t a jab, Rosie. Can I come in?”

She opened the door wider. “Sure. Want coffee?”

“No, thanks.” Violet shut the door behind her and followed Rosie to the couch.

Bella leapt onto Rosie’s lap and stared hard at Violet like she remembered the time Vi had ransacked Rosie’s apartment while in search of money and pills. Who knows? Maybe she did.

Facing each other, Violet shoved the Nordstrom bag at her. “Here. It’s way late. Sorry.”

Rosie’s brows drew together as she sifted through layers of white tissue paper. At the bottom of the giant bag was a cloth drawstring bag emblazoned with the Tory Burch logo.

“What’s this?”

She noticed that Violet’s eyes looked clearer than they had in years. She wasn’t as pale. Even her hair looked healthier.

“Your birthday gift. Open it.”

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