Poppy loved football as much as the next person who’d attended a Division I college, but there was still only so many stats she could discuss before running out of things to say.
Rosaline gave another of those fond-sounding sighs. “I was working at Avalon Records, overseeing publicity for their folk and rock divisions. Our offices were in the same building as a production company that was interested in developing a reality series starring Lyric. Lo and behold, I wandered into the bathroom on my break and stumbled on Lyric sobbing her eyes out because she wasn’t interested in being a reality television star. She was miserable. Overworked and exhausted and the very definition of burned out, sixteen with three studio albums and a world tour under her belt, ready to retire.” Rosaline shot her a look. “I didn’t poach Lyric from her previous publicist, no matter what the rumor mill likes to say. I just gave her my business card and told her to call me if she ever needed a shoulder to cryon because it seemed like she might. A week later, my phone rang. Lyric told me she wanted to file for emancipation, that her parents were mismanaging her money. Spending all of it, really. I helped her find a lawyer and a new manager and when she needed a place to stay, I moved her in with me. A few months later, I left my job and started Rarity PR, working solely as her publicity manager.”
No wonder Rosaline was so protective of Lyric. She’d practically raised her. Acted as a big sister, at least. “What you’re saying is, you basically adopted a sixteen-year-old.” When Rosaline was only what? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?
“A sixteen-year-old who’d been forced to grow up way too fast. She’s more like a little sister to me than a client,” Rosaline said, confirming her suspicions.
It wasn’t like any sibling relationship Poppy was familiar with, but then again, her relationship with her brother and sister was... calling it unique would be an understatement. “Do you have any siblings?Othersiblings, I mean.”
“Two sisters.”
“Let me guess. You’re the oldest.”
“No, actually.” Rosaline flashed a wide smile and for the first time Poppy noticed her right incisor was pointier than the left. A cute little fang that gave her otherwise perfect smile character. “I happen to be the baby of the Sinclair family.”
Poppy jerked her head back. “Get out. You are not.”
“I am.” Rosaline drew anxacross her chest with her index finger. “Though, Helen and Bianca are twins, so they have that whole infamous twin telepathy connection working in their favor. They’re only two years older than me, but they’re closer to each other than I am to either of them. Growing up, sometimes it felt like I was an only child.”
“Same. I mean, not with the twin telepathy thing, but my brother was a junior in college and my sister was a senior in high school when I was born.”
Rosaline gave her the same horrified look everyone did when she told them about the age gap between her and her siblings.
“It’s weird, I know. Trust me.” However bizarre it sounded, the reality was weirder. Poppy didn’t have enough fingers to count the number of times her parents had been mistaken for her grandparents. “My mom and dad were done having kids. I mean, I don’t think my mom thought she could evenhaveany more.” At forty-five, Mom had assumed her childbearing years were behind her. “It ended up being like that show that used to be on TLC,I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant. Mom thought she’d put on some weight over the holidays and then she thought her appendix had ruptured and,” Poppy said, waggling her fingers, “surprise! I was born a perfectly healthy six pounds eleven ounces.”
“Jesus,” Rosaline breathed. “I don’t even know what to say.”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad. It’s how I met Cash. My parents aren’t much younger than his grandparents. His parents lived—well, they still do—not far from Lake Oswego, down in Dunthorpe. But he’d visit his grandparents on the weekends, and we were neighbors.” She smiled. “Not to brag, but I don’t think very many people can say that Cash Curran taught them how to play football.”
“Oh yeah? You take the powder-puff world by storm?”
“God no.” Poppy laughed. “I was awful.”
“You couldn’t have beenthatbad.”
“This isn’t me being humble. Balls and Poppy? Donotmix.”
Rosaline snickered and Poppy played back what she’d said, full-body cringing when her words caught up with her.
“Sportsballs,” she stressed. “It’s my hand-eye coordination. It sucks.”
“Mhmm, sure.” Rosaline’s lips folded in, the corners of her mouth twitching and her eyes crinkling like she was trying not to laugh. “You just say things, don’t you?”
Poppy sighed. No use denying it. “My mouth does tend to get me in trouble sometimes.”
Rosaline’s gaze dropped, her eyes lingering on Poppy’s lips. “I bet.”
A frenzy of butterflies filled her stomach and her heart sped, beating an almost painful tattoo against the cage of her chest.
Poppy didn’t know what the hell was going through Rosaline’s mind, but she definitely hadn’t imaginedthat. No way, no how could Poppy pretend she was seeing things when Rosaline was staring at her mouth like it was an answer to a question she’d forgotten to ask. A question maybe Poppy hadn’t heard. She didn’tknow,and that was the crux of it all—she couldn’t justask.
“Hey.” Lyric appeared beside them, all but vibrating with excitement. “Mind if steal Rosaline for a sec? I want you to meet Cash’s parents.”
Poppy pasted on a smile she prayed didn’t look manic. “Go! Have fun!”
Lyric was already moving, cutting back across the suite to where Cash’s parents stood waiting. Rosaline lingered, half smile fixed even as her eyes traveled from Poppy’s head down to her feet, a slow, full-body perusal that left Poppy lightheaded. “I think you and I have different definitions offun.”
Chapter Seven
