Chapter 9 9

Night on the Town "You never take more than a minute to find an outfit. What's so important about this one?" Tamara stood leaning against Rosie's bedroom door frame, peering at her in amusement. "Nothing." Rosie tossed her a dull expression. Tamara scoffed, a smirk playing on her lips. She knew Rosie was hiding something. "A big date?" Rosie rolled her eyes, turning to go back to digging through her closet. "There's an art opening." Tamara paused in thought. "Wait, you mean the one Aatalo is being featured at?" Rosie didn't look at her cousin as she nodded her head. Tamara narrowed her eyes suspiciously at Rosie's back. "Are you going with Anthony?" Rosie shrugged. "He'll be there, yes. He said he will take me since we're both going to the same place." Tamara's jaw dropped. She took a moment to compose herself before she let out a loud squeal and raced over to Rosie. "Holy shit, my cousin dearest is going on a date with Anthony Morelli! Solid catch, Rose." Rosie pushed Tamara off of her, scrunching her features. "Stop it." Tamara rolled her eyes at Rosie's lack of enthusiasm. "You have my blessing times a million. I'm proud of you, Rosie." Rosie gritted her teeth. She stared at the floor and took a few deep breaths to stay calm. It annoyed Rosie that Tamara was making such a big deal out of this. The way Tamara spoke, it made Rosie feel like she was incapable and this was some astronomical achievement that would never be expected. "First of all, it is not a date," Rosie stared Tamara dead in the eye, her expression cold. "Second of all, I need to change so exit my sanctuary." Tamara blinked. She gaped at Rosie, stunned by her manner. "Yes, ma'am." Tamara left her room but not before shooting her a wink. Not long later, Rosie stood in the foyer of her apartment building as she waited for Anthony to pick her up. She dressed up more than normal, deciding on a simple black dress with a cardigan thrown on top. She told herself she wasn't dressing up for Anthony but rather for the art show itself, which was known to be a more formal event. "Wow," Anthony's eyes landed on Rosie as soon as he stepped into the building. He stopped walking, taking a moment to look at Rosie who he was finding himself blown away by. "Rosie, you look beautiful." Rosie's cheeks grew scarlet. She ducked her head, allowing her hair to curtain around her face so she could hide as much of her blushing face as she could. Anthony was dressed in a suit himself. Rosie tried to tear her eyes away from him but she couldn't. She didn't admit it aloud but she was also impressed by how well he looked in a suit. Anthony didn't hide his smile as he approached her. "Shall we?" He wanted to hold out his arm for her to take but reluctantly, he decided against the gesture. He didn't know if it would make Rosie feel trapped. Rosie nodded her head as she followed him out to his car. Being the gentleman that he was, he opened the passenger side door for her before getting into the car himself. "The drive's not far," he told her once he had started driving. He glanced away from the road for a moment to peer at her from the corner of his eyes. "I think you'll get along with a lot of people there tonight." Rosie held her breath without realizing. She felt anxious, more anxious than she usually felt. "Thank you for asking me to come." Her gratitude took Anthony by surprise. A smile he couldn't hold back teased him as he stared at the road ahead. Anthony felt quite anxious himself. He was surprised by how glad he was that Rosie was accompanying him tonight. "Thank you for keeping me company," he responded with a playful tone. The rest of the short car ride was silent with nothing but the music playing on the radio. Rosie was grateful for the lack of conversation, finding herself needing the silent car ride to collect and calm her nerves - at least as much as she could. When they arrived at the gallery, Anthony again got out of the car and opened her door for her. A chuckle escaped her lips as she hopped out of the car. She felt giddy and in awe of his chivalry. "Thank you." Anthony nodded in acknowledgment as he guided her into the gallery. Rosie exhaled deeply as soon as she entered the building. She was blown away by the sight in front of her - beautiful and complex artwork on the walls, people scattered around the room, dressed in formal attire with flutes of champagne in their hands. Light chatter floated across the room, jazz music playing softly in the background. "Anthony! My man, you made it." A youthful looking man approached the pair. His long and curly hair that reached his shoulders was partly tied in a man-bun, his face forming a five o'clock shadow. He was well built and handsome with defined sharp features but he held a disheveled and scruffy look - that he still managed to pull of elegantly. Unlike the others, his formal attire was much more casual and laid back. He simply wore a dark aqua blazer over top of a white button up, the top few buttons left undone with black jeans underneath. "Aatalo," Anthony grinned as he greeted his friend with a bro-hug. "Good to see you, man." Aatalo recomposed himself when he noticed Rosie. He quirked an eyebrow, looking between Anthony and Rosie. He beamed his perfect, charming smile as he held out his hand. "I'm Aatalo and you are stunning. What's your name?" Rosie's face grew bright red as she hesitantly let him take hold of her hand. It wasn't something she found ideal but she was too consumed by his charm that she didn't mind. "Rosie. I'm... glad to be here." Aatalo brought her hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. "A fair lady is always welcome." Aatalo shot Anthony an impressed look before returning his gaze to Rosie. "Drinks are on the house. Enjoy your night, Rosie." With one last graceful smile, Aatalo nodded a salute goodbye before heading off to greet some more people. Rosie sucked in a deep breath, her heart pounding against her chest as she watched him walk away. She was in a daze, stunned by how she was feeling right now. She could not name one other time when she was treated with such kindness and recognition. A soft smile was etched on Anthony's face as he very unsubtly peered at her. He was in awe himself, adoring the look on her face. "Drinks?" Rosie's attention flooded back onto Anthony, nodding her head as she followed him to the make-shift bar table that was set up. After getting some champagne, the two of them roamed around the gallery and started to take a look at all the artwork. Rosie was fascinated and adoring everything around her and everything she was seeing. "What do you see?" Rosie and Anthony stood in front of a painting, both analyzing it in their own ways. It was a painting of a landscape, nothing else. The painting was mostly blue with tints of grey. Rosie cocked her head to the side. "It's cold and sad." Anthony turned to look at her, his eyebrows knitting together. "Really? I thought it was peaceful. Zen. The ocean feels calming to me." Rosie nodded her head, her eyes remaining trained on the painting. "Blue can be calming. It's about interpretation. The author has his intention but there's no right or wrong interpretation." Anthony nodded his head slowly as he considered all of her words. He looked back at the painting, this time trying to see what Rosie saw. "Why do you see cold and sad?" Rosie exhaled. "The blue can give you a sense of calm but to me, it's sadness instead of calm. The grey, a practical colour, emotionless, dullness." Rosie paused for a moment before continuing to share her thoughts. "The brushstrokes are all jagged or harsh, none are fluid." She didn't think Anthony had any idea what she was talking about but once she started talking about art, she couldn't stop. "What do those brushstrokes mean?" Anthony was genuinely drawn into every word Rosie spoke. Finally, she turned to look at him. Her expression was unreadable. She felt like she was talking too much but something about his question, his tone and the way he looked at her, made her know that he was really asking a question he did want to know the answer to. She smiled faintly. "Something afflicting. Something prominent, bad. At least that's how I see it but again, it's all about interpretation and mine may not really be what the artist was trying to portray." "Very true." Rosie and Anthony both turned around when an unfamiliar voice cut between their discussion. Another youthful looking man stood behind them, peering at the painting thoughtfully. This man was buff and tall, short and curly hair. He had a strong resemblance to Raoul Bova. "Michael," he nodded a greeting towards the pair. Rosie inhaled deeply, feeling intimidated by the new presence. She wasn't used to this many people initiating conversations with her. "Anthony and this is Rosie." Michael's face remained stoic and expressionless, almost in a statue like manner. It only made him more mysterious and intimidating. His eyes fell onto Rosie, his gaze staying locked with hers. "There is no right or wrong in art," his voice was very deep and tone very assertive but there was an intrigued glint in his eyes. "People will often disagree on the artist's intention but I will tell you, your interpretation was accurate to what the artist was creating himself." Rosie gaped at the tall man for a long moment before her words finally managed to croak out, "You're the artist." Anthony hadn't come to the same realization as Rosie did but as soon as she said it, he knew it to be true. The man smiled ever-so slightly. "I am. I was going for an illusion of sorts - what looks to be calm is actually lonely and dark, stormy almost. Misleading you until you look deep enough." Anthony grinned down at Rosie who was continuing to gape at the man in shock. She didn't know how to react. "It's a beautiful piece," she finally managed to say. The man nodded curtly in acknowledgment. "Thank you. Are you an artist yourself? I don't know many people who would notice brushstrokes as intently." Rosie shrugged her shoulders, her stomach starting to flutter. This much attention and acknowledgment was foreign and frightening to her. "Not really." "She's being humble," Anthony chuckled softly, his eyes not being torn away from her for a second. "She's very talented." Michael reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a card that he held out for Rosie. "If you ever need any critiquing or just a connection." Rosie stared at him with wide eyes, her hands shaky as she reached forward and took the card. "T-thank you." Michael nodded as a goodbye before walking off. Anthony turned to face Rosie, his eyes wide and bright. "Rosie, that was amazing. Connections in the art world already, that would open a lot of roads for you." Rosie let out a breathy laugh, in shock and disbelief. "I don't entirely know what to say." Anthony only smiled. "No need to say anything at all. Just know how amazing you are." The rest of the evening went by just as amazing as it had started. Rosie somewhat talked to many other people, finding herself enjoying everyone's company. It wasn't something she was used to and she still remained hesitant to speak anything on her mind but she enjoyed her time much more than she was expecting. This night would go down as one of her best nights. Anthony opened the passenger door one last time for the night as Rosie got out of the car at her apartment. She stopped to face Anthony, a smile resting easily on her face. "I had a good time tonight." Anthony shared her smile, softly biting on his bottom lip. He felt oddly giddy and squeamish although he didn't understand why. "I'm glad you did. I did as well." Rosie exhaled deeply. She was feeling ecstatic and more happy than she had felt in a long time. "Smiling suits you," Anthony spoke softly, peering down at her with warm eyes. Rosie's cheeks grew warm. She was grateful for the dark outside that hid her blush. "I guess this is goodnight," Anthony fiddled with his hands, unsure of how to say goodbye to her. He was silently wishing that the night would never come to an end. He had a good time with Rosie even though most of the night, he could hardly understand half of the art-world talk he was hearing, that she was completely consumed in. He had a good enough time just watching her eyes light up. As Rosie headed inside the apartment building, Anthony headed to the driver's side door. Rosie was just about to open the door to the building when she stopped. She turned around just in time, right before Anthony was about to get into his car. "Anthony?" His head snapped over, giving her a questioning look. She smiled softly. "Thank you for tonight. It meant a lot." Anthony's shoulders relaxed. The tender smile that remained on his lips was impassioned, as were his eyes. "Anytime, Rosie." He watched as she headed inside, waiting until she was out of sight to get into his car. When he got in, he sat there for a moment. It was then that he realized how all night long, his smile was engraved onto his face and unable to leave.