Rosie sat at her desk in the cottage with a pencil between her teeth. Her laptop was open and invoices and order forms were piled next to her. She punched numbers into a calculator, entering the results on a spreadsheet.
She hadn’t realized the amount of paperwork owning a store entailed. Numbers danced before her eyes when she tried to go to sleep. But her sales were growing, and in the evenings she and Josh celebrated with a glass of Cabernet or a stroll around the lake. Rosie kept her fingers crossed that the store would continue to thrive.
Josh was supposed to meet her for a run before dinner, but he had been delayed at the Classic Car Showroom. He had been working around the clock: mornings on the MG, days at the showroom, and nights in Oscar’s garage. They both were living on sex and adrenaline and barely found time to sleep.
When they did climb into bed, they wanted to tell each other stories, rub each other’s back, find new ways to make love. It was late July and Josh was so close to completing the MG, his eyes shone with an inner light. Rosie was amazed that people waited in line for her fish tacos, and that they thanked her when they gave her money.
It felt like the days after Ben and Rosie got their first big production deal. Suddenly they both had assigned parking spaces on the studio lot and name tags that allowed them to eat at the cafeteria. Studio executives waved when they walked by, and the guy in the parking garage made sure her windshield was clean.
Now it was even better because she was doing it by herself. Rosie’s Fish Tacos might not be a blockbuster movie that was going to play in fifty states or an indie that would be reviewed in Variety, but she made every taco and customers wanted to buy them.
The best part was waking up next to Josh in the morning, finding his running shoes in her closet, seeing his work shirts folded neatly in her drawers. She felt like she could jog twenty times around the lake, prepare one hundred fish tacos, and have energy to spare. Estelle commented on her glow, and Morris laughed she was like a hot-air balloon. She needed lead in her shoes to bring her back to earth.
Rosie’s phone vibrated and she answered, expecting to hear Josh’s voice.
“I’ve been staring at numbers for hours. If I don’t go for a run, my eyes are going to cross,” she said, pressing the phone against her ear.
“I’d love to go for a run but I’m in New York.” A male voice chuckled. “It’s pouring rain, so I’d get pretty wet.”
“Who is this?” Rosie stared at the unfamiliar number displayed on the screen.
“Ryan Addams,” he answered. “The guy who healed your concussion.”
“What a pleasant surprise to hear from you.” Rosie smiled and walked to the cottage’s window. “Though it wasn’t a concussion.”
“It was a pretty big bump,” Ryan said. “How are things at the fish taco shop?”
“Great, exhausting, exhilarating,” Rosie replied in a rush. “Having your own store is like having homework for the rest of your life. There’s always something to do.”
“You better get used to it,” Ryan offered. “It’s about to get worse.”
“What do you mean? Why are you in New York?” Rosie asked.
“Colby is promoting his new album. He’s done all the late-night shows: Jimmy Fallon, Stephen Colbert, and Saturday Night Live. He even popped into The Today Show this morning. We needed a police escort to get to the studio.”
“That’s fantastic.” Rosie beamed. “But why are you calling me?”
“Well…” Ryan hesitated. “Colby sort of dedicated a song to you.”
“To me?” Rosie dropped into her chair.
“It’s called ‘Rosie.’ He wrote it after our weekend in Montecito. You know how impetuous he is; he came home and wrote it in one night.”
“Why would he write a song about me?” she inquired.
“It’s about breaking free of the fast track and doing what you love,” Ryan continued. “And it’s on its way to number one on the charts.”
“Wow!” Rosie picked up her pencil and doodled “Rosie and Josh” on her spreadsheets.
“You might want to catch the Today Show segment on YouTube,” Ryan said slowly.
“Why?” Rosie wondered aloud.
“Let’s just say Rosie’s Fish Tacos is about to get a lot more popular.”
“What did Colby say about me?” Rosie turned on her computer and waited for the site to load.
“All good things, I promise. Watch the clip. I have to go, Colby is on Anderson Cooper. God, I hope he’s nice to Colby.” Ryan sighed. “Anderson has a wicked sense of humor.”
“What did Colby say?” Rosie repeated frantically.
“I’m getting the guillotine motion; I’ve got to turn off my cell,” Ryan whispered. “Colby sends his love.”
Rosie found the Today segment and clicked play. Colby wore checkered shorts and a white t-shirt. His hair was long and curly and he wore orange sneakers.
“Tell us about ‘Rosie,’” Savannah Guthrie was saying into the camera. “The album was done, ready to go, and suddenly you wrote one more song. It’s busting out on the charts. What was the inspiration?”
“My fans know I’m a foodie.” Colby grinned like a kid admitting a gummy bear addiction. “Earlier this summer I heard about a new fish taco shop in Montecito. It is owned by a young woman named Rosie Keller. She quit her job as an executive at a movie studio and headed up the coast. The fish tacos are amazing; she won’t tell me her secret.” Colby smiled as if he was talking directly to Rosie. “She got off the Hollywood treadmill and did what she loved. Now she’s making herself and a lot of taco lovers happy.”
“Are you saying you want to get off the music treadmill?” Savannah asked earnestly.
“I have the greatest job in the world.” Colby opened his arms as if he was hugging the audience. “But you don’t have to dream big. Small dreams can be just as cool. That’s what the song is about: do what you love and throw the rule book out the window.”
“Great advice.” Savannah nodded and folded her arms. “Anything you want to add?”
Colby’s boyish face filled the screen. “Save me a fish taco, Rosie!”
“How about singing ‘Rosie’ for our studio audience.” Savannah sat back in her chair.
“My pleasure.” Colby grabbed a microphone. The camera panned to pigtailed girls throwing roses at the stage. They screamed so loud, Rosie couldn’t hear the song. The camera zoomed in on four girls holding a banner proclaiming WE LOVE YOU, COLBY and faded to black.
Rosie stared at the blank computer screen. She wanted to call Ryan, but he was on the set of the Anderson Cooper show. She thought about calling Angelica, but she would just jump up and down with glee about the free publicity.
She and Josh were so happy, like puppies maturing together. What would he say when her name was number one on the Billboard charts? She threw on her running shoes and grabbed her iPhone. She found Colby Young on iTunes, and played “Rosie” as she ran laps around the lake.
* * *
“Peg made a roast and Yorkshire pudding,” Morris said, walking into the kitchen with a basket of lemons.
“I feel like peanut butter,” Rosie replied. She was hot and sweaty from her run and suddenly craved a peanut butter sandwich. She kept her back to Morris, intent on spreading peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat bread.
“You love Peg’s Yorkshire pudding, you never eat without Josh, and you haven’t had peanut butter since Ben came to the Fourth of July party.” Morris grabbed the jar. “Tell me what’s wrong, or I’m confiscating the peanut butter.”
Rosie put down the knife and collapsed into the kitchen chair. She told Morris about Ryan’s phone call and Colby’s appearance on The Today Show.
“Is it a love song?” Morris wanted to know.
“No!” Rosie flushed. “It’s about following your dreams.”
“Is it badly written, does Colby sing off-key?”
“No, it’s wonderful.” Rosie shook her head. “Colby has a terrific voice.”
“I don’t see the problem.” Morris rinsed the lemons in the sink.
“Josh hates Hollywood and all that glitz. Things have been going so well, I don’t want to rock the boat.”
“Josh walks around like a kid on Christmas morning. As long as Colby isn’t declaring undying love, he won’t mind. He might even be pleased.”
“What if he’s not pleased?” Rosie grabbed the peanut butter from the counter. “What if he gets scared and runs?”
“Give him a little credit for growing up.” Morris put the lemons in a bowl. “Being with the right person will do that.”
“Colby has eighteen million Facebook fans and thirteen million Twitter fans,” Rosie said nervously. “I know what star power can do. What if Rosie’s Fish Tacos turns into a three-ring circus?”
“Just be prepared and you’ll be fine,” Morris counseled. “Triple your avocado order and get some help baking tortillas.”
“It’s not the supplies I’m worried about,” Rosie said, calculating how many extra tortillas she should buy and where to find the best discounts on Italian soda.
“Then what are you worried about?” Morris asked.
Rosie crossed her arms and said bleakly, “That a camera crew will arrive to see what Colby is singing about, and Josh will see them and run in the other direction.”
“You overthink things.” Morris picked up the basket. “So what if you’re on television? Just avoid wearing black and white; it dances in front of the camera. And get some of that product that makes your hair flat. You’re gorgeous, but it’s going to frizz if you make tacos under bright lights.”
Rosie took her sandwich onto the porch and sat on the swing.
“Here you are!” Josh appeared outside, carrying a plate heaped with pot roast and Yorkshire pudding.
“I needed to get away from my desk.” Rosie rocked back and forth. “I was beginning to feel like Jack Nicholson in The Shining.”
“All work and no play is not good.” Josh sat beside her. “I talked to my boss, Al, today. He plans on retiring in December.”
“Really?” Rosie breathed in Josh’s scent. He smelled of lemon air freshener and car wax.
“I told him I was confident I could get a good price for the MG,” Josh continued. “We started hammering out terms.”
“That’s fantastic!” Rosie beamed. Josh had talked about buying the Classic Car Showroom for so long sometimes she thought it was like dreaming about a perfect wave.
“I can’t believe the Concours d’Elegance is in less than a month,” Josh finished. “I need one more part and then she’s ready. She’s beautiful, Rosie.”
“I’m almost jealous.” Rosie tried to smile.
She debated whether she should mention Colby’s song. Josh didn’t listen to the radio and he barely glanced at Facebook. They didn’t watch television at night; they were too busy exploring each other. He may never hear “Rosie” and the whole thing would blow over. But she looked at his sparkling eyes, his open, honest expression, and took a deep breath.
“Colby Young was on The Today Show today.”
“Good for him.” Josh chewed his steak. “He’s a cool kid.”
“He has a new album out. The single is at the top of the charts.” Rosie paused. “It’s called ‘Rosie.’”
“‘Rosie’?” Josh put down his fork. “Is it about you?”
“He wrote it after he came to the opening.” Rosie kept talking without looking at Josh. “It’s about leaving the rat race and following your dream.”
“Is it good?” he asked.
Rosie handed him her headphones. “Here, listen.”
“He’s got a great voice.” He passed the headphones back to Rosie.
“You like it?” She looked up.
“I’m more of a classic rock fan.” Josh grinned. “But he sings from the heart. No wonder the girls love him.”
“You don’t care that the song is called ‘Rosie’?” she inquired.
“It’s not a love song, he’s a bit young for that.” Josh put a large helping of Yorkshire pudding on his fork.
“Are you implying I’m a cougar?” Rosie pouted as she swatted him playfully.
“Not to me.” He stroked her hair. “To me you’re a hot young chick.”
“You really don’t mind?” she asked seriously.
“It’s incredible! It will be good free publicity for the store,” he replied. “When I buy the showroom and your shop is doing well, we can start talking about stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“The things couples talk about.” He curled his fingers around Rosie’s.
“Sex, laundry, baseball?” Rosie swung back and forth on the swing.
“I know it’s early.” Josh stroked her knee. “But we could think about moving in together.”
“Oh.” Rosie gulped. She put the glass of milk down and wiped her mouth. “That’s a huge step. Are you certain you really mean it?”
“Of course I mean it.” He nodded. “Not just moving in, but a future. The station wagon, the dog, a couple of kids.”
“I don’t think anyone drives station wagons anymore.” Rosie grinned.
“Yvette hasn’t made me an uncle yet, and I always wanted to teach a kid to surf,” Josh offered.
“You could probably find a kid if you went down to the beach,” Rosie joked.
“I’m serious, Rosie.” Josh held her hand tightly. “I’m not quite ready financially, but it feels right. We love each other, we want the same things.”
“What if I want an Irish setter and you want a Dalmatian?” She grinned.
“I couldn’t want a Dalmatian. They remind me of Cruella de Vil,” Josh replied.
“What if I want to go sailing and you want to go skiing?” she asked.
“We’ll go to Switzerland. We can sail on Lake Lugano and ski in St. Moritz on the same day,” he offered, and ate the last bite of Yorkshire pudding.
“How do you know about Lake Lugano and St. Moritz?” Rosie asked.
“I was a history major, I know a lot of useless facts,” he said. “Let’s go to the Shake Shack. I’m craving a banana split.”
“And we’ll ask the waitress to put sprinkles on it to celebrate.” She followed him to the driveway.
“To Rosie’s Fish Tacos and the Classic Car Showroom and everything that comes next.” He opened the car door and kissed her.
“We’re going to have everything we dreamed of,” she said, and kissed him back.
* * *
Rosie stood at the store window and watched the pouring rain. It almost never rained in California in August. But this morning, gray clouds formed over the mountains and drenched the village. A few tourists sat in cafes and stared accusingly at the sky. It was as if they had been promised a sunny vacation, and they wanted their money back.
It had been two days since Colby’s television appearance and it hadn’t stopped raining. Every day she waited for the sun to appear and new customers to line up at the door, but the streets were deserted and the cash register barely rang.
She picked up the phone and called Rachel’s number.
“I’m so bored, I’m making faces at my reflection in the fridge,” Rosie said into the phone. “I want to tell you something, come and keep me company.”
“Why not?” Rachel’s voice came over the line. “If I sit in this store any longer by myself, I’ll be tempted to eat the whole display of chocolate-covered pineapple.”
Rosie hung up and waited for Rachel to appear. The door opened and Rachel darted inside, shaking off her umbrella. “It’s like a river out there. Ducks wouldn’t go out in this weather.”
“I haven’t sold a fish taco all day,” Rosie agreed. “Maybe I should advertise a rainy-day special.”
“At least it gives me time to catch up on the gossip sites.” Rachel clicked through her iPhone. “Did you know Colby has a new album out? I haven’t had a chance to listen to it. Yesterday I was swamped making chocolate My Little Ponies. A customer ordered thirty chocolate My Little Ponies for her daughter’s birthday party. These mothers keep trying to outdo each other. What happened to cupcakes?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Rosie nodded. “He wrote a song for me and sang it on all the late-night talk shows.”
“What did you say?” Rachel looked up. “Don’t tell me you’re having a secret affair. Really Rosie, even I know he’s too young. And what about Josh? You two have something special.”
“Of course we’re not having an affair. Colby wrote it after he came up to Montecito.” Rosie arranged the folded napkins on the counter. “The song is about leaving the rat race and following your dream.”
“Are you sure? What about the night of the party.” Rachel eyed her suspiciously. “You looked fantastic in that bikini, and then you disappeared.”
“I bumped my head in the pool,” Rosie reminded her. “Then I fell down chasing Josh and scraped my elbows and knees. I was in no condition to sleep with anyone.”
“I’m glad to hear it, I can’t stand a cheater.” Rachel nodded. “Though he is gorgeous. His dimples are the size of nickels.”
“Even Josh wasn’t worried about the song.” Rosie laughed. “He thinks I’m too old for Colby to be interested. Colby went on The Today Show and Anderson Cooper.”
“Anderson Cooper is hot. It’s too bad he’s gay,” Rachel murmured. “What did Colby say?”
“He raved about my fish tacos. Ryan called to tell me. He thinks I’m going to get a lot more customers.” Rosie stared at the rain drenching the window boxes. “I thought so too but I guess I’m wrong.”
“His fans are pretty vigilant,” Rachel responded. “Once they surrounded his house because there was a rumor that he buzzed his hair. It was a false alarm, but they weren’t satisfied until he appeared on the balcony. Colby even cut off a few locks of hair to reward the fans who spent all night waiting to see him. He’s so thoughtful.”
The bell above the door tinkled and three girls ran in. Their hair was wet corkscrews and their socks and sneakers were soaked. They squealed like baby pigs and collapsed into a fit of giggles.
“I can’t believe we did it,” said a dark-haired girl. “I ruined my new shoes. My mother is going to kill me.”
“Is this the fish taco store Colby Young talked about on The Today Show?” a blond girl demanded. She wore striped socks and sneakers with pink laces.
“This is Rosie’s Fish Tacos.” Rachel got up from the stool. “And that’s Rosie.”
“You’re Rosie?” a red-haired girl with a face full of freckles breathed. “Do you know Colby Young?”
“We’ve met a few times and he’s a friend of mine,” Rosie acknowledged.
“Stop being coy.” Rachel shot Rosie a look. “Rosie hit her head at a pool party and Colby and his manager saved her. The experience bonded them, they’ll never forget it.”
“He’s such a hero,” the dark-haired girl gushed. “What happened?”
“We were all playing Marco Polo and my locket got wedged in the drain,” Rachel replied. “Rosie tried to retrieve it, but it wouldn’t budge and she almost ran out of air. She shot to the surface and hit her head on the diving board. Colby and Ryan rushed to her rescue and gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”
“Colby did that?” a girl gasped.
“It was one of them.” Rachel shrugged. “I can’t remember who. There was blood and Rosie was moaning with pain.”
“Wow, that’s incredible,” the blonde gushed and turned to Rosie. “You must have been so brave.”
“She couldn’t let down her customers,” Rachel enthused. “After she got all cleaned up she came right to the store and made Colby’s favorite fish tacos.”
“Oh my god! The fish tacos,” the redhead squealed. “Colby tweeted that they’re the best. We made our mothers drive from Bakersfield. We’ll have two each, and I’ll take a couple for my mom, and one for my little sister. She’s only five, but she already has a Colby Young lunch box.”
“I have to text Melissa and Morgan.” The dark-haired girl took out her phone. “They’re never going to believe we met a girl who bled all over Colby Young!”
The redhead agreed. “I feel like I’m going to pass out. I need something to eat!”
Rosie bundled their tacos and handed them napkins and plastic forks. She added three bottles of orange soda and a side of chips and salsa. “Thank you for coming all the way from Bakersfield. Maybe you can tag us on Facebook and Instagram.”
“Can I get a picture with you?” the blonde asked. “I’ll post it on Snapchat.”
“Sure.” Rosie walked from behind the counter and the redhead snapped their photo with her phone.
“Maybe one day I’ll get a photo with Colby Young.” The blonde sighed. “That would be the best day of my life.”
The girls ran down the street, shrieking and laughing. Rosie turned to Rachel and placed her hands on her hips.
“What was that all about?” Rosie asked, closing the cash register. “You made it sound like a scene in an afternoon soap opera. It was a little bump.”
“Call it creative marketing; it’s in my genes.” Rachel grinned. “How many tacos did they buy?”
Rosie opened the cash register and counted receipts. “Sixteen.”
Rachel nibbled a tortilla and stared at the wet pavement. “You better get ready for the deluge. It’s time to build an ark.”
* * *
The rain cleared the next morning and left the cobblestones bright as new pennies. Rosie went to work early, cradling a cup of coffee. She turned onto East Village Road and there was a crowd snaking down the street. Women flipped through magazines and mothers balanced toddlers on their hips. And there were girls of all ages. They chewed gum and scrolled through their iPhones, squealing and trading screens.
Rosie walked closer, wondering if they could all be waiting for her to open the store. She searched for her key and spotted Rachel standing by the door.
“At least you got here early.” Rachel was waiting on the sidewalk.
“These people can’t all be wanting fish tacos?” Rosie gulped, wondering if she had ordered enough avocado.
“It’s called ‘Colby Young tweeted to thirteen million fans that Rosie serves the best fish tacos.’” Rachel pushed inside and dragged Rosie with her. “My father owned the biggest department store in New Jersey. Once the Jonas Brothers made a surprise appearance and the fans practically ripped the carpet from the floors. The place was gutted. And insurance refused to pay. His policy didn’t say anything about a stampede of teenage girls.”
“But Colby isn’t here, it’s just me,” Rosie insisted.
“He sprinkled you with Colby Young fairy dust.” Rachel propelled Rosie to the front door. “You’re going to be a star.”
“I thought I was prepared, but I can’t serve all these people.” Rosie panicked, turning around and seeing the mass lunge towards the entrance.
“That’s why you’re lucky to have me as a friend. I brought some of Patrick’s cousins; they’re going to cook. Patrick will drive to the store if you need extra supplies, and I’m going to help run the counter.”
“What about Gold’s Chocolates?” Rosie peeked out the window at the crowd.
“Patrick’s grandmother is taking over for the day,” Rachel answered. “Her eyesight isn’t very sharp and I’m not sure she listened to my directions. I hope she doesn’t poison anyone.”
“How can I thank you?” Rosie asked, turning on the stove.
“Don’t call your firstborn Colby. I want to name my baby after him, and then we couldn’t be friends.” Rachel grinned.
“Deal.” Rosie tied an apron over her shorts.
Rachel flipped the sign to OPEN. “Let the games begin.”