Epilogue
ROSIE
Xion Group said I was only allowed a single plus-one for the Christmas party.
Technically, I’m not breaking any rules.
My mentor Paulina offered her own plus-one spot so I could invite another person.
She’d be leaving early, anyways. Another business venture she has to commit to, because being a go-getter like her means being desired in multiple spaces of the industry.
My internship hasn’t formally started, but I already feel more respected at Xion than I have in any other professional space. In the few times I’ve met with Paulina, she’s reassured me that if Xion wasn’t a company worth working for, she’d take her talents elsewhere.
It was coincidence her boss wouldn’t be attending tonight due to vacation. Michael didn’t mind transferring those two dinners to people who wanted to be my guests.
The fifth invite wasn’t by coincidence. I had my mind set on getting Derek through that door one way or another, and thankfully the security guard pulled some strings.
I get to sit at a table with my closest friends, on the most rewarding night of my life, because my hard work got me here. Kindness did the rest.
“If you don’t get the award,” Billie whispers over our large table, half-heartedly clapping her hands for the man on stage. “I’m going to get up and cause a ruckus.”
“No, you won’t.” Locke spits through closed teeth, staring down at her over the rim of his glasses.
They continue to slip down his nose, and he only fixes them when they’re close to falling off his face.
“I’ll cause one too.” Derek chimes in, and Liliana groans.
“We barely got into the dinner, and you want to risk getting kicked out?”
“For Rosie?” Blonde hair swooshes when she tips her head comically, arms crossed over chest. “Yes.”
I stifle a laugh behind my hand. There’s no need for anyone to cause a ruckus now, or any time during dinner.
The Promising Young Mind Award is essentially a participation award for the Brookstone intern.
It’s just to welcome them into the company, before formally starting their role after winter break. It literally cannot go to anyone else.
I explained this to everyone days ago. Still, half the table mumbles under their breath that my name better be called.
According to the event’s pamphlet, we don’t have to wait very long. The award Billie is ready to fight to the death for is coming up soon.
“Princess,” Locke whispers to me, his left hand finding mine under the table and interlocking them together.
I feel the cold metal of his watch press against my wrist. The “R” engraved into it is just as prominent as the first day he pointed it out. But, just for safe measure, I check every morning when he kisses me awake, and every night before we drift to sleep.
Leaning over, my partner whispers into my ear so only we can hear.
“After the awards are over, when they start passing out dessert, grab your coat and follow me to the exit, okay?”
My forehead creases. I’m sure I’ve heard him right, but I can’t decipher why he wants to leave so early into the night.
“Is something wrong?”
“No.” He squeezes my hand under the table and smiles. “Just want to do something really quick. We’ll come right back.”
My mind goes to one place instantly, but I know it can’t be that. Locke and I are more adventurous than most people when it comes to our sex lives, but I know what’s totally off-limits. Neither of us would want to get down and dirty at a company dinner.
I’m about to ask him what he’s hiding in that brilliant mind of his, but the voice booming over the speakers captures my attention instead.
“And last but not least, our Promising Young Mind Award.”
Michael stands there, one hand behind his back and the other gripping the microphone confidently. Like he was there the whole time, although I’m sure there was a formal announcer taking the stage up until this very moment.
“Xion introduced this award soon after establishing our highly coveted internship with Brookstone University, to highlight how impressive the minds from their financial engineering program truly are. And although each and every one of them have gone on to forge a path in this industry—and maybe I’m biased—but I don’t think this award has been so well-suited to a recipient until tonight.
“At Xion Group, we’ve always prided ourselves on being the best and striving for more.
Yet, when this impressive graduate student graced our offices, I was shocked.
I didn’t know such ambition was possible for someone so early on in their career.
But Ms. Rosie Mendoza…” I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath the entire time, or that I’ve been gripping onto Locke’s hand impossibly hard during every word.
“Has exceeded every expectation we could’ve had for our quantitative analyst internship.
How lucky are we, to have such a promising young mind in our presence.
Aside from her impressive background and talents, personally, I’d like to thank Ms. Mendoza. ”
The most powerful man in the room sets his shoulders back, tilts his head, and looks straight at me.
“It wasn’t until her interview that we realized how many other promising young minds must be out there, from communities who don’t get the same opportunities as others.
I am ashamed to admit that despite our many years of collaboration with Brookstone University, Ms. Mendoza is our first female, first-generation, and child of immigrant quantitative analyst intern. ”
I swallow the large lump in my throat. The realization is heavy, both on my heart and in the air around the room, and it causes a cloud of emotion to engulf me.
A tear drops finds its way onto the black satin of my dress. I don’t make a move to wipe it away. These emotions are valid, and this tear is earned.
Michael nods at me and repeats himself.
“Ms. Mendoza is our first female, first-generation, and child of immigrant quantitative analyst intern. But she certainly won’t be our last.”
There’s a roar of applause. Chairs scraping across the floor when people begin to stand. First, my friends, then the women around the room, then everyone else. Everyone clapping and cheering for me. Some of these people must have been working at this company longer than I’ve been alive.
In this moment, they all give their respect to me. I stand up tall and smile, wide and unapologetic. It’s nice to have everyone acknowledge my talents. It’s sweeter knowing this praise is just a plus—not a need.
Locke kisses my hand and tells me I’m the most amazing woman in the world. He and everyone else watches as walk to the stage and ascend the steps, closer to the award that seems made for me.
The cheering doesn’t stop. Not when Michael hands over the black and gold plaque, and not when I mumble a few sentences of gratitude into the microphone.
Thankfully, they don’t expect me to match my acceptance speech to my boss’s award speech.
Even with my mind, I don’t think I’m skilled enough to handle public speaking like that right on the spot.
The cheering finally dies down when I’m heading back to my friends. I’m just reaching the table when the emcee says it’s time for dessert and motions for the waiters to roll out the treats.
Everyone hugs me briefly. Liliana is struggling to keep her tears at bay, and Derek is going on and on about how badass I am, when Locke wraps my coat around me.
“Sorry about this, but I need to steal my girl away for a bit.”
I trust my award in Liliana’s hands, when Grant coughs. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to…”
“Ew!” Billie claps her hands over her ears, shaking her head and dropping dramatically into her chair.
“We’re not!” I reassure them, although I guess Locke hasn’t verbally confirmed anything. I just trust how well I know him. “We’re only taking a few moments to ourselves. We’ll be right back.”
Surprisingly, no one accuses us of bullshitting. Maybe they understand I wouldn’t risk the most fulfilling moment of my academic life for anything. Not even for a rendezvous with Locke, despite him being more talented with his tongue than one man ever should be.
There’s always later.
When we step out of the room, Locke doesn’t head towards the building’s exit. Instead, he goes opposite from the front door, leading me hand-in-hand down an unknown hallway darker than the rest of the building.
I feel the need to whisper, “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.”
“We’ll be fine. I’ve come here a handful of times for my father’s events.” I squeeze his hand quickly, and he squeezes back while weaving us around the halls. “There’s a place here I love. I want to show it to you.”
I don’t ask any more questions. I trust Locke. Here, and anywhere. If he wants to share something with me, I’d never turn him down.
Minutes later, we reach two wooden doors with windows taking up their upper-halves. Locke throws them open and a rush of cold air brushes past my face.
It’s a small courtyard. Tucked away with only two snow-covered benches taking up the space and remnants of spring foliage lining the stone floor. In terms of décor, it’s not much, but it’s never about material things with Locke.
When we shuffle into the middle of the courtyard, he turns me around, and I see it. The red tip of his nose, and the snowflakes dropping onto his blonde hair.
I stand on my toes and reach up to touch the ice dusting his forehead.
“We came out here so you could freeze?” I laugh. The snow gathering on my own hair must not be any better, but Locke shakes his head.
“Not gonna freeze. I haven’t spent a single day with you where I don’t feel warm.”
It’s instant. That exact warmth spreads around my body, starting from the lips that belong to him and down to the ground that only feels solid when we’re together. I see Locke’s breath when he sighs. His hand cups my cheek at the exact time I grab onto the initial necklace that represents my world.
“I love our home. I love being there with you, comfortable all the time. But the other day, while we were watching movies, I realized I messed up. We spend so much time indoors with each other, that I never got to give you your kiss in the rain.”
My breath hitches. The memories of a younger me, yearning for that one special gesture, come flooding back.
The distinct moment of me telling Locke about that dream accompany them.
I do still long for that cliché, romantic drama kiss.
I’d just been so enamored with the love story Locke and I created on our own, I’d forgotten about the one I dreamt of by myself.
Another group of snowflakes find home on his forehead. I brush them away, and Locke’s emerald green eyes soften.
“I know it’s snow, and not rain, but I don’t think I can wait that long to watch another one of your dreams come true.” Under the romantic moonlight of a winter evening, and the perfect cover of a Boston snowfall, Locke McCarthy makes me the luckiest girl in the world. “Can I kiss you?”
I don’t know why he asks. With him, the answer is always yes.
The love of my life kisses me. Lips pressed against mine, softly and slowly. While the metal of his watch grazes my neck and the letter of his name rests on my chest.
It’s not rain, or heated kisses, or gut-wrenching love confessions.
It’s better. With Locke, life is always better.