"We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses." --Abraham Lincoln
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Uh oh. Roselle's stomach tossed and churned as she walked with Armani to the Strobe courtyard. What was she going to say? What 'could' she say that wouldn't make her look like a lunatic?
Once they got to the gazebo, Armani admired the mansion from far away. "I didn't expect to see you here," he said. He faced her. "Though something tells me you didn't come all the way from Michigan just to do my fiance's hair."
Roselle's cheeks were scarlet red. "Why not? Her hair is amazing. I've been itching to style it for ages."
Armani walked over to her slowly. Clack, clack, clack, went his heels until he was right in front of her, his face only inches from hers. "Liar," he whispered.
"I . . ." She gulped. "Okay, you got me."
"I'll ask more directly this time. Why are you here?"
"Because . . ." She closed her eyes so she couldn't see his face. "Because I like you, you idiot! I've always liked you! I think you're handsome, and brave, and smart, and cunning, and all these other things!"
"Then why did you reject me?"
"Because I was afraid! You were coming on too strong, asking me to move here with you. But when you got engaged, I realized that I couldn't stay there anymore, so I came to find you. I like you so much, dummy!"
"I see." He smiled at her. It wasn't a huge grin. It was a soft, humble curve of the lips. "I never thought I would ever hear you say those words." He put his hand over his heart. "It makes me happy. I'm touched."
"Then . . . What now?"
"Nothing."
Roselle backed away from him. "But I thought--"
"Ro, I've had feelings for you all these years. For fourteen years, I've always dreamed of the day I would finally come back and ask you to be with me." He grumbled. "Then you swung by and shattered all my dreams. I'm not blaming you, but that hurt."
"Yeah. It hurt you so much that you proposed to another woman within twenty-four hours with the same ring you used to propose to me."
He rubbed his temples. "My backers wanted me to get married for my career, okay? They suggested that I marry Lily, but I didn't want that. I wanted to take a chance and follow my heart first, but it didn't work out. Lily was all there was left."
"Now that I reciprocate, why don't you just back out?"
"You don't get it. I can't just back out of a marriage with one of the most influential men's daughters in America. That would end badly for me. I would make him my enemy, and at the same time, that'd be a huge scandal. Once we went public with our engagement, there was no going back."
"You became president for ME, didn't you?"
Armani narrowed his eyes. "I already told you, Ro, you were one of the reasons I became president, but you sure as hell weren't the only reason. Honestly, what a narcissistic thing to say to me."
Roselle looked away in shame. "I . . . I'm sorry."
He sighed. "Look on the bright side, doing Lily's makeup will help you with you and your sister's business, right? I know that's been your dream. Maybe this was how things were meant to be."
She shrugged. "Maybe."
He gave her a soft hug. "Thank you for everything, Ro. I'll see you at the party."
* * *
Later that evening, the Reyes Sisters attended the engagement party, wearing elegant gowns that Lily lent to them. It was dinner time, and the thousands of guests that arrived were seated in the mansion's ballroom listening to a toast.
"Armani, I love you with all my heart, and I hope we can live the rest of our lives together," Lily said, finishing her speech.
The room applauded.
Roselle rolled her eyes. "She loves him? She sounded so unsure before." She downed another glass of wine. "This party sucks."
"Stop drinking so much," said Michelle. "You're gonna embarrass us."
"I'm already embarrassed."
"I'm not!"
"We should have never even came here."
She sighed. "Look, I know things didn't work out with you and Armani, but we still have our business. And there's a whole bunch of cute guys at this party. Why don't you snag one of them up?"
"Most of the people here are like, sixty."
The person who was elected as Armani's vice president, Eliot Scott, stood up and delivered his toast. He was a man that was cute, tan, at least 6'5, and had a dimple smile.
"Wow," Michelle said. "What about the vice president? That guy is HOT!"
Roselle scoffed. "You date him then."
"You don't like him?"
She studied him.
"I can't believe me and my boy Parker actually won the presidency," Eliot said. "Like damn. That's wild. After I won I had to do a quick internet search on what the vice president should do, because I had no idea."
The room laughed, but Roselle had the feeling he was being serious. "He gives me bad vibes," she said. "He's too . . . perfect. I can't explain it."
* * *
After dinner was over, the mc announced that everyone was now free to roam around the room and mingle with one another. Michelle got up in a hurry and went to 'introduce herself' to Eliot.
Roselle continued to sit at the table and drink wine. It's not like there was anything better for her to do anyway. Who was she to 'mingle' with?
"Hey," a guy said, taking a seat across from her. This man had freckles, red hair, green eyes, and glasses. He was young, probably not a day over twenty-five. "Uhh . . ." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Are you alright?"
"I don't wanna talk about it," she replied, drinking from her glass.
"This is kind of embarrassing, but uh . . ." He was sweating profusely. Why was he so nervous? "Do you think I could have some wine with you?"
Roselle roared a drunken laugh. "Not in a million years, rich boy."
"But I--"
"What? Not used to never getting what you want? Well get used to it."
"It's just that, all the wine is gone, and you have the last bottle . . . I just wanted a little. I was trying to be polite."
Roselle was wide-eyed in shock. Maybe she was narcissistic after all. She thought this guy was after something completely different. She glanced at the wine bottles in front of her, and she was too dizzy to count, but there were at least seven.
"Oh . . ." she said. She grabbed a bottle and poured the man a glass. "Bottoms up," she said.
The two clinked their wine glasses and shared a sip together.
"You look slightly very hammered," the man said.
She raised a brow. "Slightly very? My name is Roselle, by the way. Who're you?"
"That's a pretty name. I'm Dylan."
"Cool."
"So, is something the matter, Roselle? You seem crushed about something. Do you wanna talk about it?"
"You wouldn't get it, rich boy. If you heard my problems, you'd probably think I'm an idiot."
"Of course I wouldn't. We all have off moments sometimes. It's a part of being human. I'm not here to judge you, I'm here to be a listening ear."
She narrowed her eyes. "Why? What's in it for you?"
He shrugged. "Kind strangers have been there for me when I needed it, so I want to do the same for you."
"Well, if you say so. Basically I left my whole life in Michigan to follow my heart and move to Washington D.C. Sadly, the person I moved here for rejected me. Idiotic, right?"
Dylan patted her on the shoulder. "I'm so sorry to hear that. You must be devastated. You're not alone. I, too, have been in your shoes."
"You? But you're--"
"Just because I'm an important figure in the public eye doesn't mean I'm perfect. I've made my mistakes and had my ups and downs. If anything, if I never messed up, I would never be where I am today."
"You seem kinda wise. Can I ask you for some advice?"
"Shoot."
"Everyone keeps telling me to stay positive, but I can't. I'm so upset right now. Am I a narcissist for feeling sorry for myself?"
"Of course not. One day you will be in a better place, and your problems won't last forever, but first you need to grieve. If you don't let yourself face your feelings, you'll never be over them."
"Hey, Dylan?"
"Yes?"
Roselle giggled. "I like you. You're really nice."
He smiled back at her. "I like you too, Roselle."
* * *
The two spend a long time drinking wine, getting to know each other, and laughing. For the first time since Roselle was here, she felt at ease. It was all ruined when a woman in a pantsuit rushed over to their table in a panic.
"Mr. Prime minister!" the woman shouted towards Dylan. "Canada has a problem, come quick!"