They stood in silence for a moment, just the hum of the studio lights filling the space between them. Then Malandrastepped down off the backdrop area and straightened her shoulders. “Well, for what it’s worth, you strike me as someone who deserves to be chosen. Not just needed or wanted when it suits people.”
“T-thank you.”
Malandra offered a soft, playful smile as she stepped closer. “And if your heart ever finds some breathing room, I make a mean margarita, and I know how to dance.”
Jo blinked repeatedly, caught off guard. “Wait, are you?—”
“Yes.” Malandra grinned. “I’m asking you out on a date.”
“Wow. That’s…really flattering.”
Malandra lifted a brow. “But…”
“I’m not in the right place,” Jo said, more certain of that than she had been about anything else in weeks. “I’ve got someone I need to be honest with. And maybe someone I’ve already been dishonest with.”
Malandra nodded. “Good answer.”
They finished the shoot a little while later, and Jo sent Malandra off with a promise to deliver a batch of previews by the end of the following week. But even as she packed up her gear, the weight of the evening ahead pressed firmly against her chest.
Dinner.
With Amelia.
She hadn’t stopped thinking about it all day. Actually, not since she’d sent the message last night, and not since Amelia’s unmistakably warm reply.Just tell me when and where and I’ll be there. Jo hadn’t suggested a restaurant yet. She hadn’t even chosen an outfit. Because a part of her was still terrified that she’d walk into dinner and see a goodbye waiting in Amelia’s eyes.
And another part—a deeper, braver part—hoped she’d see something else.
Something that resembled a beginning.
The restaurant was quiet,tucked between a florist and a record shop on a sleepy corner of the city that Jo barely remembered existed. It was the kind of place Amelia would choose, though. Elegant without being showy, and dimly lit with white candles on every table. It even had those cute little handwritten menus clipped to reclaimed wooden boards.
Jo had arrived earlier than she’d needed to, then spent ten minutes pacing up and down the pavement outside, her heart in her mouth. When she’d finally stepped through the door and given her name, the server led her to a table in the far corner. It was private, intimate, and candlelit. Not exactly what Jo believed was right at the moment, but she could still appreciate a beautiful setting.
As she wrung her hands and settled them on top of the table, the door opened.
Jo saw Amelia before Amelia saw her. Her hair was swept back into a loose twist, a navy silk shirt tucked into tailored high-waisted trousers. The simple earrings she wore caught the light, and then Jo noted Amelia’s expression. Was she…nervous, too?
God, Jo hoped so. At least then she wouldn’t feel alone.
“Hey,” Jo said, standing as Amelia approached the table.
Amelia smiled, but it was nothing like the usual smile she had for Jo. “Hi.”
They kissed each other’s cheeks briefly—just a brush of skin, but enough to make Jo’s stomach somersault—and sat down.
The server came over for their drinks order, effectively breaking the silence, and then he left again…and that heavy quiet settled once more.
Amelia cleared her throat and looked up from her menu. “I wasn’t sure if you still wanted to meet me.”
Jo swallowed. “I wasn’t sure if you’d say yes.”
“Yet here we are.” Amelia sat back in her seat and laughed.
“Yeah.” Jo nodded as her fingers curled loosely around her napkin. “Here we are.”
It wasn’t easy to sit across a table looking back at Amelia. Not because Jo didn’t want to, but because the longer she did, the harder it became to keep her composure. Everything about Amelia—the way she carried herself, the subtle grace in her movements, the warmth beneath the caution in her eyes—set Jo on edge in the most beautiful yet maddening way.
Jo chewed her lip, then shook her head as she said, “I’m sorry.”
