Rosies are Red, page 1
Rosies are Read
Becca Baldwin
Copyright 2023 © by W. Nelson
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
AISN: B0C7M33PMQ
ISBN: 9798399298009 (Paperback)
Cover Art by GetCovers
Editing Services by W. Nelson Literary Services
Formatted with Atticus
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. If you acquired this book through non-legal means, you are committing theft and are stealing this book. To stay within the law, please purchase a copy or read via Kindle Unlimited.
Author’s Note:
Some of the places within this story have been changed, omitted, or created for storytelling purposes.
This novel may contain information that some may find sensitive or triggering. Please read with caution.
I have taken liberties with U.S. property law. Some of the laws have been omitted, added, or changed strictly for the content of this book. These changes do not affect the law as it is currently written.
While Thomas Bansome is a completely fictional character, as is his painting featured in my novel, he is inspired by the artist John Singer Sargent and his works.
Contents
1. The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly on the Plain
2. Coffee Solves Everything
3. The Instagrammer vs. Mr. Sexy Coffee Shop Man
4. The Leech
5. Making Battle Plans
6. La-La Land
7. This Meeting Could Have Been Lunch
8. Getting Peed on While Under a Balcony
9. Back With a Vengeance
10. Toads and Rosebuds
11. Chickens Can’t Tuck Their Tails Between Their Legs
12. Here I Go Again
13. Guess Who's Coming to Lunch
14. Annoying Brothers and Leering Jackasses
15. The Jerk Returns
16. This is All Going to Blow Up in Your Face
17. Dumbly Deciding to Keep One’s Mouth Shut
18. Oh, the Irony!
19. Love . . . in an Elevator
20. Taking the Next Step
21. Dancing in the Moonlight
22. Bedtime Confessional
23. Lazy Days and Plays
24. Shakespeare and Company
25. The Fit Hits the Shan
26. Licking One's Wounds
27. Guess Who's Coming to Dinner
28. Washing One's Hands Clean
29. Righting the Wrongs
30. Sh*t's Going Down
31. An Unexpected Ally
32. Waving the White Flag
33. Victory is So Sweet
34. A Party Time Surprise
35. History Gives Us Another Chance
36. Happily Ever After
37. Making the Same Mistake. Again.
Before You Go . . .
Also By
Acknowledgements
About the Author
1
The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly on the Plain
Rosie
“Hello! Welcome to Rosies are Read Books,” I cheered as the front door bell tinkled. I looked up from my inventory to see a grim-faced man hovering in the doorway. Seeing an opportunity to turn that frown upside down, I carried on. “My name’s Rosie Cooper, proprietress and expert on all things books. How may I help you with your reading needs today?” I walked over to the gentleman, my hand held out in welcome.
“Miss Cooper.” The man stepped inside and blatantly ignored my outstretched greeting. The door closed with a loud bang behind him, startling the older woman currently sampling the erotica section in the back. “My name is Henry Higgins.”
“The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain!”
“Excuse me?” Mr. Higgins made a face, clearly not getting the reference.
“You know? My Fair Lady? Rex Harrington? His character’s name was Henry Higgins.”
Who wouldn’t get that reference? I mean, really? The movie was a classic. Still, Mr. Higgins remained unmoved or unaware. Maybe both.
“Okay, I guess. I’m not sure what that is.” He glanced away before continuing. “As I said, my name is Henry Higgins and I’m here on a business matter. I’m here to notify you that the Harrington Investment Group is now the proud owner of the building where your quaint little store is located.”
This I knew. All the tenants knew. We’d been sent letters notifying us of the change in ownership. No biggie. Life would carry on. Well, as long as they didn’t raise the rent astronomically.
“The reason I’m here today was to bring you this.” He handed me a Manilla envelope.
“What is it?” I eyeballed the envelope, wondering what was so important that it took this guy to deliver it.
“A letter explaining that The Harrington Investments has decided to tear the building down. It’s scheduled to be demolished in twelve weeks and that you, along with the other tenants, will need to find new locations since the new building will not be providing any room for establishments like yours.”
WHAT?
My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. What did that condescending asswipe just say? Did he just belittle everything I’d worked my entire life for while telling me my bookstore was soon to be homeless?
Yes. Yes, he did and oh, was he going to regret it.
First he had the audacity to call my store quaint in that smug, condescending manner. He’d had the gall to say it as if me and the other business owners were shit smeared across the bottom of his shoe. Now he had the nerve to say yours as if my shop or any of the others were beneath him. Anger swirled in my veins. I was just about to open my mouth to let him have it, but for once, my common sense prevailed.
“They’re tearing the building down?” I asked incredulously, surprised I sounded so even and calm. Mr. Higgins nodded, confirming it was. “Why weren’t we notified? Don’t you legally have to send written notice about such things?” Every attempt I made to remain calm failed and I came out sounding like a screeching harpy ready to flay Mr. Higgins to pieces with my talons.
“You were sent notice earlier via the postal service, but my client also felt it would be pertinent to hand deliver them as well. It’s entirely possible the original hasn’t been delivered yet.”
You think? I thought as I stared unblinking at him. An eviction notice was something I would have remembered.
I stared down at the envelope in my hands. Sweat broke out across my body as I realized that the one thing I’d wanted my entire life, ownership of my own bookstore, was suddenly on life support and Harrington Investments had their hand on the plug.
I couldn’t believe this. The letter they’d sent me previously said nothing about kicking us out. We’d all assumed they’d negotiate new lease terms. Agnes Culpepper, the florist next door, stated that she smelled a rat and was lawyering up. Agnes was positive that Harrington Investments was up to no good. She was also positive they had no right to knock this big, beautiful building down.
Agnes had heard through the grapevine that this building was erected in 1888, and once housed the studio of a world-renowned photographer famous for the photos he shot while in the midst of battle during World War I. Her lawyer had instructed us tenants to do nothing for the time being while he and his team looked into the matter. That was the last I’d heard, and now I felt like an idiot for not getting a lawyer for myself.
“You can’t do that!” I shouted as the dam of my patience burst. Ten seconds was long enough for my calmer side to have her turn. This man had no idea the level of pissed off I could operate at, but he was about to find out.
“If you read the letter you’ve been given, you will see that we are well within our rights to do so, Miss Collins.”
“Screw your letter, you asshole! You know,” I felt the sting of unshed tears burn my eyes despite my bravado. “I worked my ass off to open this place up. And now you have the audacity to come in here and tell me that I have to move? I don’t flippin’ think so, Mr. Higgins! I’m going to fight this and so will the rest of the tenants here. You can take your slimy ass back to the goo-covered rock it crawled out under and tell whoever sent you that they can kiss my ass!”
Mr. Higgins stared at me as if I’d grown two heads. “Miss Cooper, I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
“First you come in here acting all high and mighty and have the audacity to insult my bookstore! Next, you have the nerve to ramble out some bullshit about us having to vacate and do it while sounding like some soulless corporate zombie! Oh, and you’re right! We definitely got off on the wrong foot, you jerk. Fortunately, that leaves one free to kick your ass!”
“Now, now, Ms. Cooper.” Higgins put his hands up as if surrendering. “There’s no need for hostilities.”
“No need for hostilities?” I yelled
“I simply came here on a business matter—”
“Not only did you insult me, but you insulted everything I’ve worked for! Do you know how long it took me to save the money to open this place? Do you know how hard I had to work canvassing this city, wearing myself to the bone to market this place just so I had enough to eat?” I panted heavily and I wasn’t done. “What about all the nights I had to sleep on a cot in the back because I didn’t have enough to pay for an apartment? You corporate dupes don’t give a shit about people like me! All you care about is dollar signs and putting up a slew of soulless high-rises that will sit empty for months until you sell it off to cut your losses.”
My shouting drew the attention of passersby, including several regulars who’d stopped in their tracks to come in to check on me.
“Rosie?” My longtime customer and avid erotica aficionado, Mrs. H. popped inside. Based on her stoic, corporate appearance, one would think her cold and calculating, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Mrs. H. was the sweetest woman I’d ever known. I’d often dreamed that my mother or even my grandmother, who’d died before I was born, was a lot like her.
“Rosie dear, is everything okay?”
My eyes flicked over to where she stood in the doorway. Mrs. H. glanced between me and the Henry Higgins imposter.
“No, everything’s not okay,” I said honestly, seeing no reason to lie to her. This woman had been my very first patron three years ago and had been a regular since. “I just received some upsetting news and this asshole is to blame.”
Higgins’ eyes flashed at my name-calling. I wasn’t someone who insulted people easily, but for him, my unease made an exception.
“I think you should leave,” Mrs. H. demanded of my unwelcome guest. Higgins sighed. Without further argument, he left, but not before saying that he was sorry to have intruded upon my day.
The door hadn’t even closed when Mrs. H. pulled me into her arms and whispered that whatever happened, it would be okay. I wept against her shoulder as I tried not to let my frustration and rising anger get the best of me.
2
Coffee Solves Everything
Rosie
“You told him what?” My best friend, Ivy Granger, busted out laughing as I repeated what I’d said to that asshat Henry Higgins.
“I told him that yeah, we got off on the wrong foot and it left one free to kick his ass.” Ivy burst out laughing again. She bent at the waist and nearly spilled her coffee.
“And not only was he way rude, but he ruined My Fair Lady, too!”
“I’m sorry I missed it. I’d have killed to see his reaction when you said that. What else did you say?”
“Nothing really. I was ripping him a new one when Mrs. H. came in and made him leave.”
“He didn’t argue?”
“With her? Nope. Just tossed out a half-assed apology as he headed out the door.”
“He probably kept quiet because he knew you both could kick his ass.”
“It’s the least he deserves for insulting my bookstore and talking to me like I’m an idiot.”
“Thus, giving you a reason to ask me to meet you here.” She held up her grande caramel macchiato while I took a pull off of my much needed vanilla frap.
“I was in desperate need of coffee-slash-best friend therapy after Mrs. H. left.”
“You made the right decision, Rose Marigold Cooper.” Ivy raised her cup in toast. I clinked mine against it. Leaving the subject of Henry “the Asshole” Higgins behind, we spent the next twenty minutes filling each other in about our days. By the time we were out of coffee, it was time to head back to our prospective jobs. After being blackballed across the city by her former boss, a man she made the mistake of sleeping with, Ivy had just started at a large real estate firm in their accounting department. My best friend was as good as numbers as she was cheering me up. And she excelled at cheering me up. I only hoped that those in power at RH Realty knew what a treasure they had on their hands and that my best friend wouldn’t repeat her past mistakes and fall head over heels for their company’s CEO.
“Call me when you get off?” Ivy demanded as we chucked our cups into the recycling bin and headed outside. “We can talk more about how you're getting screwed over. Maybe we can grab dinner at that Tex-Mex place you love?”
“Refuse El Mejor Lugar?” I scoffed through my nose. “Not on your life! Since you get off work before me, why don’t you go ahead get us a table and I’ll meet you there?”
“It’s a date.” Ivy hugged me before heading off back to work. I had just reached the intersection to cross when the craving for another vanilla frap hit me. Even though I watched my sugar intake religiously, I gave myself permission to go back to Bean There and Gone to quench my craving. After all, it had been an absolute shit day and drinking frappuccinos was better than alcohol, right?
3
The Instagrammer vs. Mr. Sexy Coffee Shop Man
Rosie
“Ugh, I can’t believe the line is soooo long!” A tall, lithe blonde whined from the spot directly in front of me. During the brief time I’d left Bean There and Gone, the line had exploded. It was at least ten people deep and the baristas were barely managing to keep up. Still wanting my fix, I joined the crowd and prepared to wait. This woman, however, was not prepared to do the same.
“I mean, come on people! Some of us lead busy lives. We can’t just stand around waiting for you to get your shit together! I’ve got stuff to blog about!”
The woman, who I assumed was an influencer based upon the way she kept looking at herself and doing those stupid duck lips in her phone’s camera, stomped her foot before releasing a frustrated growl. After sitting through more than a few minutes of her childish and totally unnecessary temper tantrum, I’d finally had enough.
“You know—” I started to say just as someone spoke over me.
“If you don’t like how ‘slow’ the service is, why don’t you take your whiny self somewhere else?”
I looked up just in time to see the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on step up to put the entitled brat in her place.
Holy Hannah, was he hot! If sex were a person, this man would be it.
One second, I was a little uncomfortable, teetering on the chilly side due to the gale-force A/C blowing. The next, my body blazed with an inferno and it was all due to him. Standing at well over six feet with impossibly wide shoulders, the russet-haired stranger was unknowingly doing things to me that I’d never felt before. Things that were currently making my lady business dance the cha-cha.
“Excuse me?” Snobby McBlonde sneered as I snapped back to reality. I looked at her again as she tried to intimidate Mr. Sexy Coffee Shop Man into submission. I could tell she was the type of chick who was used to getting her way. Mr. Sexy Coffee Shop Man seemed more than happy to see that she didn’t.
“There’s no excuse for how rude you’re being,” he clapped back. “Everyone here is tired of listening to you bitch and moan about having to wait. Newsflash! Everyone has had to wait because that’s what happens when a place gets slammed.”
Blondie glared at the tall, lickable stranger with the arresting silvery blue eyes. I, however, gawked awkwardly like I’d never seen an attractive man before.
“Is it a crime to want to just get my coffee and go?” She rolled her eyes and tossed a long blonde lock over her shoulder. A lock that nearly hit me in the face. “My fiancé is waiting for me and I don’t want to make him wait any longer than necessary.”
“No, it’s not a crime, and no one gives a shit about your fiancé. However, it is bad manners to bitch so loudly about something that can’t be helped. If you were in such a hurry, why didn’t you order ahead through the app?” The stranger pointed to where a hipster with purple hair and several facial piercings picked up his drink and thanked the crew before leaving.
