If you enjoyed Their Perfect Melody,
be sure not to miss all of Priscilla Oliveras’s
Matched to Perfection series, including
HER PERFECT AFFAIR
Rosa Fernandez doesn’t act on impulse—she’s the
responsible one, planning her career with precision,
finally landing a job as the librarian at conservative
Queen of Peace Academy, confining her strongest
emotions to her secret poetry journal. But she’s
been harboring a secret crush on dreamy Jeremy
Taylor, and after one dance with him at her sister’s
wedding, Rosa longs to let loose for the first time.
She deserves some fun, after all. So what if she
doesn’t have a shot with Jeremy, not with his wealthy
pedigree and high profile lifestyle. But one dance
leads to one kiss, and soon Rosa is head-over-heels . . .
The adopted son of a prominent Chicago lawyer,
Jeremy has a lot to live up to—especially with his
birth father in prison—the perfect example of a bad
example. With a big promotion and a move to
Japan in the works, Jeremy is worlds away from
settling down. But sweet, steady Rosa is a temptation
he doesn’t want to deny himself, at least for now. Yet
when their simple fling turns complicated,
everything they’ve both worked for is threatened—
except the red-hot intimacy they’ve found together.
Can forever really grow from just-for-now?
Keep reading for a special look!
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Rosa Fernandez stared at the sea of wedding guests whirling on the dance floor. Her toe tapped to the beat of the salsa music, but she didn’t join in the revelry. Not when it was her responsibility to make sure everything was running smoothly.
Scooting around a potted palm, she made a beeline for the buffet tables and wedding planner, relieved that so far all had gone according to schedule. Her big sister and her new husband had departed over an hour ago amidst kisses and well wishes. With huge grins on their faces and love for each other in their eyes, they’d headed upstairs to one of the finest suites the downtown historic Chicago hotel boasted.
Now, with the clock close to striking 1 AM, the party would be ending soon.
Without Rosa having worked up the nerve to ask a particular someone to dance. Her gaze scanned the crowd, looking for—
“It was a beautiful September wedding, mija.” Rosa turned her attention to her neighbor, bending to accept the elderly woman’s hug. “Gracias, Señora Vega.”
Señora Vega smiled, the wrinkles on her face deepening. “You did a fabulous job. Just like the church senior social you organized last month.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed them.”
“Bueno, no one doubted tonight would come together beautifully in your capable hands,” Señora Vega said. “You’re always on top of things. That’s your specialty, verdad, nena?”
Right.
Or maybe it was her affliction.
Rosa kept the errant thought to herself, returning Señora Vega’s smile with a tremulous one of her own. “Yazmine and Tomás deserve the best.”
“Que nena buena eres.” The older woman patted Rosa’s cheek, a wistful sheen in her eyes. “Your parents would have loved this,” she said, leaning in for a good-bye hug.
Rosa nodded mutely, melancholy wrapping around her heart at the thought of her parents and how much she missed them. They should have been here. Sure, there was nothing any of them could have done to stop Papi’s cancer, but her mother’s car accident all those years ago . . . that should never have happened.
For now, Rosa pushed aside the memories and guilt. Today was her big sister’s special day, so Rosa would do her best to channel their mom and her knack for organizing the best parties anyone could throw.
As Rosa wove through guests, the reception music changed to the heavy bass of a popular reggaeton song and the crowd on the dance floor let out a cheer.
“Hey, Rosa, come join us!” Arms raised overhead, her younger sister waved at her.
Surrounded by a crowd of her old high school friends, Lilí shimmied her hips and shoulders in reckless abandon to the Spanish rap music. Thanks to her sweaty gyrations throughout the night, her pixie haircut had lost some of its spike, but Lilí’s playful grin had only grown bigger.
One of the guys snaked his arm around her lower back, and Lilí plastered her lithe body against his. They moved to the music as one, simulating an act that more likely belonged in the bedroom than on the dance floor.
Rosa shook her head in bemusement. Lilí puckered up and made a show of blowing her a kiss.
Ay, the little brat. A cocktail dress and heels could not a properly behaved young lady make.
Lilí yelled another catcall in her direction.
Rosa waved her off. Mosh-pit-style dancing wasn’t really her cup of café con leche. Lilí knew that.
Lilí stuck out her tongue, then went back to her fun. With a resigned sigh, Rosa turned away. Lilí might not understand that there were responsibilities to attend to, but she certainly did. With Papi’s passing earlier this year, Rosa felt compelled to take charge. Even more so than after Mami’s death almost ten years ago, when Rosa and Yaz had been in high school.
Be responsible. Do the right thing. It was what she did best. Even if the “good girl” reputation Señora Vega had referred to sometimes made Rosa itch to break out of the mold.
Shaking off the lingering melancholy, she continued moving through the crowd, stopping now and then to chat with friends and guests, thanking them for their attendance, reminiscing about her parents.
She was halfway across the ballroom when a thick arm encircled her waist from behind.
“Red Rosie, you’ve been avoiding me.”
Recognizing her former classmate’s voice, Rosa bit back a groan.
“Héctor!” She turned, leaning away from him, barely stopping herself from stomping on his foot with her heel. It would serve him right after grabbing her butt earlier in the buffet line!
“No seas mala!” he complained.
“I’m not being mean. I’m busy.”
“One dance. A slow one. Come on, Red Rosie.”
The embarrassing high school nickname grated on her already frayed nerves.
“Héctor, I have to check in with the wedding planner.”
“All work and no play—”
“I know, I know. But this party is all about Yaz and Tomás. How about you go play a little harder for the both of us, okay?” Rosa schooled her face into her understanding-yet-I’m-not-giving-in expression. She might only be seven weeks into her job as the librarian at Queen of Peace Academy, but she’d been practicing this look in the mirror for months. “Marisol is sitting by herself. I’m sure she’d love to dance with you.”
Rosa pointed at their mutual friend.
When Héctor gave her a sad-eyed pout, Rosa arched a brow to make her point, but softened it with a teasing smile.
“Está bien,” he finally moaned.
She watched him trudge away, part of her wanting to join him and the crowd having fun. Yet, she held back. Her job wasn’t done.
Moments later, after a short discussion with the wedding planner, Rosa learned all was in order. She wasn’t needed anymore. Just like at home now that Papi was gone and Lilí was off to college.
Uncertainty weighed heavy in her chest.
She glanced from her peers, excitedly dancing, to the older couples chatting at the circular tables. Most people here would say she fit in better with the older, more reserved crowd. Not that she could blame them. It’s where she typically gravitated. She heaved a sigh weighty with resignation.
No one knew about the increasing number of times lately that she wondered how it might feel to shake up the status quo. Do something just because it felt good, without worrying about the consequences.
Although, shaking things up might not be what the Catholic diocesan school board at Queen of Peace Academy in their quiet Chicago suburb of Oakton, Illinois, wanted from their new librarian. She’d worked hard to finish her MLS on time so she could take over when Mrs. Patterson had retired this past summer. Now was Rosa’s chance to carve her own niche amongst the staff, moving from former student to colleague. Allowing her to work on becoming a mentor to her students.
So what if she felt something was missing. It would pass.
Feeling out of sorts, Rosa edged her way toward the back of the ballroom near one of the portable drink stations.
“One ginger ale with a lime twist for the señorita, coming right up,” the bartender said as she approached.
“You remembered!”
The gray-haired man filled a cup with ice and smiled at her. “Why aren’t you enjoying yourself with the other young people?”
“I was just about to ask her the same question.”
Rosa started at the deep voice coming from behind her.
She glanced over her shoulder, thrilled to find Jeremy Taylor standing close by. His broad shoulders and football-player physique filled out his navy pinstriped suit to perfection. Even though her heels added a good four inches to her five-foot-six height, Jeremy still towered over her. He smiled, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. A thrill shivered down her spine.
“I’ll have what she’s having, please,” Jeremy said.
“Ginger ale?” the old bartender asked.
Jeremy blinked in surprise before he slowly shook his head. “Rosa, Rosa, Rosa. How can you celebrate your sister’s marriage without enjoying some champagne? C’mon, share a glass with me?”
Longing seared through her, fast and hot. Ay, little did he know that she’d share pretty much anything with him.
Jeremy tilted his head toward her, urging her to say yes. But not pushing.
Ever since Yaz had introduced the two of them almost four years ago, Jeremy had been nothing but friendly, almost brotherly. After Papi’s death back in January, Jeremy had been amazingly supportive. A perfect gentleman.
Just not her perfect gentleman.