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Need a bouquet. 2 doz red roses. Delivered to the park ASAP.
On it, he replies.
I think better of it and text him again. Make that pink roses. Don’t want to come on too strong, I think.
Of course, Mr. Rushmore.
My irrational feelings toward Henry Higgins’s proximity to her do not wane, and by the time the show ends, I’m ready to leap onto the stage, punch th
at fussy, misogynistic asshole in the face and whisk my lovely Hunter away. Maybe whisking any woman away is its own kind of misogyny, but nothing about my own urges makes any sense to me anymore.
Everything in my life has been a series of pragmatic, well thought out business decisions up to this point.
And now, I’m head over heels for someone young enough to be my daughter.
This is going to turn my entire world upside down.
And for the first time in my life, I’m OK with that.
3
Hunter
My best friend Addie appears at the edge of the stage as I’m taking my bow. She hands me a small bunch of wildflowers and I blow her a kiss, knowing I’ll see her after the show.
“Thank you!” I shout over the cheers of the audience.
“So proud of you!” She waves and gestures to indicate she’ll see me at my house later.
I love that girl. I watch her sprint off to gather supplies for our late-night binge fest.
Addie and I are nearly seniors at Greenbridge Academy. Swim practice will begin this week for both of us, so tonight is our last sleepless night spent devouring junk food before the end of summer.
Just when I’m about to step back and join the full cast bow, I see someone from the audience come forward holding up a massive bouquet of long-stemmed pink roses.
I pause, expecting someone else to claim it.
But no one does.
I turn back, and all I can see is a silhouette of broad, male shoulders. He is tall, sophisticated, and definitely not one of my high school classmates. I move closer and I see his face. I gasp. Him?
This must be a mistake. After all, the richest man in town doesn’t just show up to my performances and hand me flowers.
But he’s looking straight at me. I glance around, and back at him, and it feels as if he’s summoning me with his mind.
His golden eyes match his skin, no doubt bronzed in tropical sunshine while doing business at one or more of his many resorts over the summer.
Everyone is clapping and cheering, and I step forward to take the bouquet. It’s so big I have to wrap both arms around it. Thankfully, it’s been wrapped in a large satin bow to keep the thorns from pricking. I smile broadly at him, nod and say, “Thank you.” Surely he notices the confused look on my face, but I try to mask the confusion with gratitude. We stand at the edge of the stage, eyes locked in a moment of wonder and confusion. Does he think I’m someone else?
I only know him as the enigmatic father of the school’s biggest brat, who also happens to be captain of the swim team. Maybe he’s here on behalf of the school; he is on the board of trustees or something, I think. I’m not sure though. But if that were the case, why would they send him and not Headmistress Moody?
My smile wavers when I see something else in his gaze. He’s not here on behalf of the school. The way he’s looking at me, he doesn’t resemble the man I know as Ridley Rushmore’s dad: the mysterious, super-wealthy father of the meanest mean girl who ever meaned at Greenbridge Academy.
He’s just…a man, a man looking at me the way movie stars look at their leading ladies. The force of his gaze makes my ankles wobble in my shoes.
Mr. Rushmore’s expression turns to concern as he notices me losing my balance, and he reaches out a hand to steady me. When his firm hand touches the outside of my leg, it’s such a shock that I forget where I am for a moment. I completely lose my equilibrium and tumble off the stage, dropping both bouquets of flowers as I go. The audience and the cast let out a massive, collective gasp of fright. But no panic shows Rushmore’s face.
He’s got me. In front of God and everybody, Mr. Rushmore catches me. His arms circle my waist. From this position, I can’t help but notice his face is eye level with my breasts. My cheeks burn through three shades of red.
