Still, he was wary. A week ago, hopefulness had deteriorated into regret after she had admitted failing out of school the fall after he broke things off. Her confession made her uncomfortable, and she’d made up an excuse about the one blackfly she’d seen and left quickly. He’d do everything he could to avoid another abrupt departure.
Having her lists in his life again was a symbol of their shared purpose. She also made one for herself that included finalizing brand colors and fonts, neither of which Miles paid attention to when he’d founded CashCache. He’d chosen green, the color of money. According to Avery’s quick lesson in color theory, he had chosen wisely. Green evoked security and hope—perfect for getting out of debt. For Montressa’s brand colors, she took inspiration from around the lake.
They had been in the office a while, and his eyes ached from screen glare. They’d reached a good stopping point, but he wasn’t ready to leave. He wanted to end the evening on a fun note. There wasn’t a bar nearby where he could take her for a casual, celebratory drink, but he had a better idea. One that might remind her of their past.
He checked his watch. Earlier in the day, his StarSky app had notified him the International Space Station would fly over Linden Lake tonight. It was due to arrive in about fifteen minutes.
Avery put down her pen and stretched her arms overhead.
“I’m gassed,” she said through a yawn. “Let’s make these changesand meet later this week.”
“Ayuh. I’ve got brain fry,” he said. “I am going to the dock to watch the International Space Station flyover. Come along if you’d like. There’s enough breeze tonight to chase away the blackflies.”
It was a nerdy ask, but she used to enjoy stargazing with him. Her lips twisted in thought.
“That sounds cool,” she said. “And Casper needs to go out.”
She grabbed his leash and the three of them walked to the dock. They didn’t need flashlights given the full moon. The heavens reflected on the still water, filling the lake with stars. Avery sat at the end of the dock and Casper plunked down next to her.
“He must be tired.” Miles laughed as he sat on the other side of her. No way was he letting the dog get between them.
“Yeah.” She reached out and ran her hand over Casper’s head. “I made Casper run to the mailbox with me today.”
“Good for you. My mom always said a tired dog is a good dog.” Miles gazed at the sky and his mouth fell open as his head fell back. Stars relaxed him. “We got a clear night, maybe a bit too much moonlight, but we’ll be able to see it. There’s Venus.”
“I like that you still stargaze.”
Hearing Avery remembered things about him made his heart skip a beat. During their dinner on the dock, she’d remembered how much he lovedWar and Peace.They’d left before the stars came out that night. This could be the night he finally got what he had wished for on countless dark skies for the last ten summers.
“After all this time, you still view the heavens with wonder,” she said, tipping her head back.
“Because you can never know it all.” He glanced at her. “The universe is ever-changing.”
The trace amount of light from the lodge illuminated her soft hair. Avery in profile was beautiful. He wanted to stay next to her on thisdock all night so he could keep feeling this tingling in his chest.
“Where do I look?” She nudged his thigh with hers.
“It’ll come from over there.” He pointed across the lake. “It takes about two minutes to traverse the entire sky.”
Miles traced its path with his hand, swooping it over her head until his hand rested behind her on the dock. When Avery didn’t seem to mind, he silently congratulated himself. “I love a clear night. You can’t see stars in the City.”
“You see other kinds of stars,” she said, rubbing Casper’s belly. “That reminds me, I set up social media and flooded it with images. We need likes and shares. I hate to ask this, but is there any chance Hayes and Anna Catherine would post about us? They could come stay in the Boathouse once the bed goes in.”
He liked that, but he had someone better in mind.
“I’ll ask,” he said. “My neighbor in New York, Symona Beauvais, has the most followers of all of us. I’m sure she’d help.”
Symona had a busy modeling schedule, and he often watered her plants while she traveled or helped her hang artwork. Some nights, they sat on his nest couch and talked about how, as children growing up in rural communities, they had never imagined the lives they had now.
“Wow. Symona would do that?” Avery asked.
“Yeah. The night I moved in, she knocked on my door, asking to borrow sugar.”
“That sounds like code for something else.” Avery giggled. He took it as an invitation to tell her about his life in New York. Anything she’d read came from an unchecked source. He wanted her to know the truth.
“Honestly,” he said, glancing at her to gauge her interest, “it seemed like a prank. Fashion Week had just ended, and she and her friends were drinking and baking cookies. I went because I was starving and curious. They’d made a pitcher of some cocktail they had invented and named ‘the runway.’ It was pink but tasted like a margarita. They asked me to take photos, so I did.”
Miles shrugged. He’d been tipsy and shouted comedic directions in an Australian accent. They’d loved it. His photos set off a social media inundation of girlfriend groups, holding trays of baked cookies and fancy pink drinks. It still didn’t seem real to him.
