Chapter 8
That Friday at work felt even longer than she’d been afraid it would, but at last Rosemary was able to make her escape, glad that she’d be going the opposite direction of the rush-hour traffic and therefore shouldn’t have much more than a fifteen-minute drive ahead of her. The streets around Monrovia’s old town district were packed, but she found parking in a structure just a block west from the movie theater where she was meeting Caleb, so that wasn’t so bad.
And there he was, standing out in front, the sleeves of his button-down white shirt rolled up in a concession to the warm October weather, looking casually gorgeous — and completely oblivious to the admiring stares a group of giggling high school girls gave him as they passed by before disappearing into the theater’s lobb
