The Bennett Brothers

ROSEMARY

“And she just gave you this check for ten thousand dollars? Right there on the spot? Just like that?” asks Quinn Marks, Rose’s best friend and roommate, as they stare at the paper between them on the bar.

“Just like that,” Rose says with a sigh, still unable to wrap her head around the events from earlier.

After Mr. Bennett left, Benny inquired about the artist, but Rose said they wished to remain anonymous.

Even now, Rose can’t say why she didn’t admit she was the artist. She just isn’t the type to put herself in the spotlight. In fact, this whole thing is well outside her comfort zone.

But Benny made it clear that Mr. Bennett doesn’t take no for an answer. She told Rose to give her a number to put on the retainer check, a number that would make the artist agree, and Rose suggested something she thought would be absurd.

It wasn’t.

And Rose suspects that Benny wouldn’t have batted an eye if Rose had added another zero to that figure.

“What’s the art for?” Quinn asks.

“A new hotel he’s building in San Francisco.”

“No way! Thousands of people are going to see your art! That’s major!” Quinn says, her excitement infectious. “You’re going for it, right?”

“Well, I don’t—”

“Nope. Don’t finish that. No room for insecure Rosie here.” She shakes her head, then raises a finger. “Your art is amazing, and it deserves to be seen by the masses.”

Rose smiles but then sighs. “I don’t need it to be seen. I just want a normal life, Quinn. A man, a house, and a few kids. Simple.”

“I’m not letting you turn this down.” Quinn gives her a mock-scolding look.

Rose smiles at her biggest cheerleader. Raising her hands in surrender, she says, “Okay, Quinn, I’ll do it.”

“Yay!” Quinn cheers. “Another round!” She taps the bar to gain the attention of the bartender.

“Oh, and I didn’t even tell you the crazy part,” Rose says before finishing her drink.

Quinn raises an eyebrow at her. “Ten thousand dollars out of the blue isn’t the crazy part?”

Rose shakes her head, stuffing the check back into her purse. “Mr. Bennett looked just like him.”

“Him?”

“The guy. My guy.”

Quinn lets out a gasp. “Show me the photo again.” She is referring to the Polaroid that Rose keeps in her wallet from their freshman year of college.

“Really?” Rose chuckles, rolling her eyes. She pulls the twelve-year-old photo out of its home next to her driver’s license and slides it down the bar.

Rose doesn’t need to look at the picture; she has that sucker memorized—as well as the soul-searching emerald eyes that stare back at her when she looks at it.

The photo is from her first college party, the night she and Quinn decided they were destined to be best friends forever. It was also the night she first encountered her mystery man, who was standing behind them and happened to look at the camera just as it flashed.

“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” Quinn asks.

“About six months. The Starbucks on 48th Street. I was waiting for a client, and he came in, got his coffee, and left.”

“And how many times have you been back to that Starbucks in the last six months?”

“You make me sound like a stalker,” Rose mutters.

Quinn takes a sip of her drink before studying the Polaroid once more. “It’s funny how your paths keep crossing. What is it now? Nine times in twelve years?”

“Eight,” Rose corrects her.

“And you’ve never spoken to him?”

“We’ve never even made eye contact. I don’t think he’s ever seen me, to be honest.” Rose cocks her head in thought. “But I almost did, that night at the party. I just couldn’t bring myself to make that move. You remember, he was surrounded by girls.”

Rose takes the photo, and images of some of the times she has seen him flash through her mind.

When he and his friends mooned Rose’s art history class junior year. Her literally bumping into him one New Year’s Eve as the ball dropped—right as he locked lips with a stunning brunette. Him stepping out of a cab outside Regent Theatre with a gorgeous blonde on his arm.

She sighs, slipping the photo back into its home.

“So, Gallery Guy looked like him? Show me.” Quinn motions with her head toward Rose’s phone.

Just as Rose pulls it out to search for Mr. Bennett, it lights up with a call.

Quinn looks at the caller ID and groans.

“Don’t, Quinn,” Rose says with a glare before answering. “Hi, honey!”

“Hi, sweetie. Where are you?” Eric says.

Rose smiles from hearing his voice, finding herself missing him. She has been glued to Eric for the last few weeks, living with him and leaving his side only for work. That was why Quinn begged for a girls’ night.

“Quinn and I are—”

“My cousin’s in town. I want you to meet him,” he says.

Rose looks over at Quinn, who shakes her head, likely sensing she is about to be ditched. “Well, I promised Quinn a girl—”

Eric cuts off her words with a loud sigh. “It’s fine, Rosie. Quinn’s important to you, I get it. I just thought I was becoming someone important to you too.”

“What? No, you are. It’s just—”

“No, it’s cool. I guess we just aren’t at that point in our relationship where we meet each other’s family. I get it.”

“No, Eric, please. I just meant…you guys should join us. I’ll send you our location.”

Quinn groans beside her.

“Great! See you soon, honey,” he says before ending the call.

“Why would you invite him?” Quinn scowls at her. “I hardly see you anymore, and now I can’t even have alone time with you?”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but Eric is amazing. He’s so affectionate, attentive, loving. He brings me coffee in bed every morning, and he’s just so sweet and thoughtful.” Rose’s eyes unfocus as she drifts into memories of all the sweet things he does for her.

“Really?” Quinn’s tone brings Rose back to the bar.

“Come on, Quinn, give him a chance. Eric really could be the one.” Rose shifts the topic, knowing it will cheer Quinn up. “Plus, he’s bringing his hot cousin with him.” Rose wiggles her brows at Quinn.

Quinn’s scowl remains, and her eyes narrow. “How do you know he’s hot?”

Rose shrugs, exaggerating her brow wiggles and smiling like a crazy person.

It works, and Quinn breaks out into a laugh. “All right, all right. I could use a night of distraction. But at least dance with me while it’s still just you and me.”

After Rose agrees, Quinn takes her by the hand, pulling her out onto the already overcrowded dance floor. Quinn and Rose laugh and dance until someone calls her name from the bar.

Rose’s butterflies flutter when she sees Eric. She grins as she pushes her way through the crowd, ready to throw her arms around him.

Until she registers the look on his face, which causes her to stop short in front of him.

“What are you wearing?” he asks, his eyes raking her body and his lip curled up in disgust.

Rose furrows her brow and looks down at her outfit: skinny jeans and a tight-cut, midriff-exposing black tee. She didn’t think anything was wrong with it, but with the look on Eric’s face, there must be something wrong.

She suddenly feels exposed. “I, uh…” Rose wraps her arms around her waist just as Quinn arrives at her side.

“Eric, hi!” Quinn says with a smile, though Rose detects the fake tone in her voice.

In the blink of an eye, Eric’s demeanor changes back to its normal cheeriness. He smiles, kissing Rose’s cheek in greeting and turning to Quinn. “Quinn, sorry to interrupt girls’ night.”

Weird, Rose thinks. ~Maybe he had a bad day.~

“I don’t believe you for a second, Wall Street,” Quinn says. “But you can buy me a drink to make up for it.”

“Deal. Now I get to introduce Thomas to both of you,” Eric says, patting the back of the guy next to him who is bent over the bar talking to the bartender. “Tom?”

As Eric’s cousin turns to face them, Quinn lets out an audible gasp, and Rose’s knees weaken.

It’s him.

My mystery man.