Rosalie Maxwell is the breadwinner of her ungrateful family. She does everything she can for them, pays medical bills, electricity and tends to all their needs even though they've never appreciated her. The only reason she looks forward to the daily visits to her parents house is because of her grandmother, the woman who did a better job at raising her and her brother than their own mother. Taking care of her family, taking their constant ungrateful treatments, and the insults has become a normal routine for Rosalie. But one day her whole life is up in shambles when her beloved grandmother goes missing. When Rosalie finds out that her, Grandma Mary has Alzheimer's which makes Rosalie all the more scared about what may happen to her. She has nowhere to run to. So, she goes to the only person she thinks can help her. Her boss, and the man that seems to inherit space in all of her wet dreams, Nicholas Sinclair. Philanthropist, Most handsome man three times in a row on the cover of Rayview Magazine. Rosalie is ready to do anything if it means getting her grandmother back. She'll take on extra hours, whatever it takes! But what happens when Mr Sinclair wants something far different from extra hours at work? What will she do when her boss tells her what he wants? He wants, Rosie.
View MoreRosalie A year had passed since the whirlwind of my tour ended, and now I stood at the threshold of a new chapter in my life. Nicholas and I had returned home, and I couldn’t help but reflect on how far we had come. I remembered the day I announced my engagement to Anna, her face lighting up with joy as she squealed and pulled me into a tight embrace. “Oh my gosh, Rosalie! You’re getting married!” she had exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. We had laughed and cried and laughed again while we watched romcom and drank ice cream, feeling a warmth in my heart that I had never known before. After that, I had rushed to visit Grams to share the news. I could still picture how her face would lighten up and what she would say if she was here, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness. “Oh, my sweet Rosie, I always knew you’d find someone special,” she would say, her voice filled with pride. I had told her everything—the proposal, the plans, and how Nicholas had swept me o
Rosalie It's been a month since Nicholas proposed to me. We decided to keep it a surprise from everyone until after I was done touring. At first, I didn't know how Anna was going to feel about Nicholas and I getting back together, and I told him about it. That was until he told me how she had come to his office and gave him the longest and most useful pep talk of his life. He also kept his word and followed me to work and waited every single day. And the gifts never stopped even though we were back together.The tour ended with a grand exhibition attended by the movers and shakers of oak view’s art world. The exhibition took place in a big hall, and every photgrapher had their own section in the pop-up gallery.It was exhilarating, nerve-wracking, and utterly surreal.I stared at my little slice of heaven and the people passing through it, dressed to the nines and examining each piece with what I hoped were admiring eyes.I’d grown by leaps and bounds as a photographer over the
Nicholas That’s Scorpio.” Rosalie pointed to a spot in the sky. “Do you see it?”I followed her gaze toward the constellation. It looked like any other cluster of stars.“Mmmhmm. Looks great.”She turned her head and narrowed her eyes. “Do you really see it, or are you lying?”“I see stars. Lots of them.”Rosalie huffed out a half groan, half laugh. “You’re hopeless, Nicholas.”“I told you, I’m not and never will be an astronomy expert. I’m just here for the view and the company.” I kissed the top of her head.We lay on a pile of blankets and cushions outside our glamping resort in Caravans Desert, one of the top stargazing destinations. After all the shit that’d gone down last month, this was the perfect place to reset now that she has given me another chance. So I brought her to this resort six days ago. We’d spent the past four days hiking volcanoes, luxuriating in hot springs, and exploring sand dunes. My assistant had nearly keeled over with shock when I told her I was
Rosalie My dates with Nicholas had been really successful. And he lived up to his promise-slash-threat of showing up every. Single. Day. He was there in the morning when I left for my fellowship, usually with a vanilla latte and blueberry scone—my favorites. He was there to walk me home after my daily photography time. Other times, especially when I was with other people or exploring the city on the weekends, he was less conspicuous, but he was there. I felt his presence even though I couldn’t see him.I never thought Nicholas Sinclair would become my stalker, but there we were.On top of that, gifts arrived every day. By the boatload.By the end of the first week, my apartment looked like I was opening an indoor garden. I donated everything to a local hospital—the roses of every color, the vivid purple orchids and sweet white lilies, the cheerful sunflowers and delicate peonies.By the end of the second week, I owned enough jewelry to make the Duchess of Cambridge green with env
Rosalie After our date, the gifts didn't stop. They kept coming. By the end of the third week, I was knee-deep in gourmet chocolates, gift baskets, and custom-made desserts. I didn’t care about fancy jewels or flowers, so those gifts didn’t matter to me. It was the little things that tore holes in my heart—the red velvet cupcakes that spelled out I’m Sorry; a rare, vintage Japanese camera I’d searched for for years but had never found for sale. By the end of the fourth week, I was torn between tearing my hair out in frustration and crumbling like a sandcastle at high tide. “We need to talk,” I said Friday afternoon after I left my lighting techniques workshop. Nicholas lounged against a light pole outside the building, infuriatingly gorgeous in jeans and a white T-shirt. Aviators hid his eyes, but the intensity of his gaze seared through the glasses and burned into my flesh. “Sure,” Nicholas said, unfazed by the attention he was getting. He was probably used to it. While he foll
Rosalie I didn’t move back in with Nicholas. Part of me wanted to, but I wasn’t ready to jump in with both feet again so soon.I did, however, agree to another date with him.Three days after our movie night, we arrived at a quiet corner of the Oak View Botanic Garden. It was a gorgeous afternoon, all clear skies and golden sunshine, and the picnic setup looked like something out of a fairytale.A low wooden table stretched across a thick ivory blanket, surrounded by huge cushions, gold and glass floor lanterns, and an oversized wicker hamper. The table itself was set with porcelain plates and a feast of foods, including baguettes, charcuterie, and desserts.It was amazing. And Nicholas lived up to his promise-slash-threat of showing up every. Single. Day. He was there in the morning when I left for my fellowship, usually with a vanilla latte and blueberry scone—my favorites. He was there to walk me home after my workshops.Other times, especially when I was with other peo
Nicholas "My sweet girl, it’s so nice to see you!” Freya brushed past me and swept Rosalie up in a hug. She only used the sweet girl endearment for her grandchildren, but apparently, she’d extended it to Rosalie. “The house isn’t the same without you.”I scowled at her pointed tone. She’d given me the cold treatment all week. I was pretty sure she’d burned my pork chops on purpose the other night. I’d forced down two bites before I gave up and ordered takeout. It wasn’t just her, either; even Edward my driver had cast disapproving glances my way when he thought I wasn’t looking.My staff didn’t know what happened with Rosalie amd I. They only knew she was gone, and they blamed me for it.Hell, I blamed myself too, which was why I was trying to make amends.I’d spent the past couple of days since my call with Rosalie planning the date, and my nerves were a humiliating wreck. I hadn’t been this nervous since I was a high school freshman asking out the most popular girl in school.
NicholasOne ring. Two. Three.I paced my room, my stomach twisted with nerves as I waited for her to answer.It was ten-thirty, which meant she was getting ready for bed. She usually took an hour to wind down with a shower or a bath, depending on how stressed she was; a bafflingly intricate ten-step skincare routine, and some reading, if she wasn’t too tired.I’d timed my call so I’d catch her after she got out of the shower.Four rings. Five.Assuming, of course, she picked up my call.My nerves pulled tighter.Rosalie gave me her number that afternoon, which meant she wanted me to call, right? If she didn’t, she would’ve simply left. Hell, a part of me had expected her to.I’d lingered in that damn coffee shop for almost two hours on the off chance I’d see her. She went there every day, but her timing varied depending on her workload.It wasn’t the world’s greatest plan, but it’d worked, even if it’d meant skipping a lunch video call meeting.Six rings. Sev—“Hello?” Her voice flow
Rosalie “Hey, Rosalie. The usual?”“Yes, please. Make it four,” I said as the barista rang me up. I frequented the coffee shop near the main building so often they’d memorized my order. “Thanks, Sue.”“No problem.” She smiled. “See you tomorrow.”I paid and moved to the pickup area, only half looking at where I was going. I was too distracted by the flood of new messages scrolling across my screen. Mostly from Anna and maybe one or two from Ares.With the way she sent numerous messages at once, one would think she's in trouble.She probably wanted to congratulate me on the success of the Picture Ball. According to her and Sarah, news outlets had deemed it “one of the most exquisite balls in the Picture Balls history” in their Sunday style roundup, which meant I woke up that morning with even more messages crowding my inbox.It was only Monday, and I already had twenty-two new client inquiries, five interview requests, and countless invitations to balls, screenings, and private par
Rosalie Maxwell Life gets harder as I get older and I’m getting tired of it. My family’s dream is exhausting, and a long time ago it became mine too. I run myself ragged every day, sometimes I come back and I'm too exhausted to do anything other than work and sleep, but I can't because their dream is mine. My parents used to own a general store called Maxwell’s. It’s named after our family and, when they were young, the shop did really well; but now, people buy what they need online, and the business my parents poured blood, sweat, and tears into, is failing. I don’t see us making it another year.Their medical bills are behind, along with their rent that is one month past due and the only reason our landlord is not evicting us is because he has known my parents for thirty years. If it weren’t for that, and the fact I promised to pay him before the month ends, they’d be sleeping in this store. Even right now, the electricity in my parents’ apartment is off, and I need to provide anoth...
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