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“Well,” Ali fanned her cheeks, cooling the subtle heat Charlotte and her smokey tone kept brewing. “I foresee a lot of blushing in my future.”

Ali kept the phone pressed against her ear, not wanting to miss a single word. A smug grin was apparent in Charlotte’s next words.

“You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

Ali huffed a laugh, dropping her gaze back to the sidewalk.

“Don’t sound so smug.”

“But you blush so prettily…” her voice trailed off and Ali heard a muffled voice in the background. “Thank you, ask him to wait a moment.”

A weary sigh floated down the line.

“The work never ends, huh?”

Charlotte hummed, a wave of exhaustion hidden somewhere in the vibration.

“Typically, not on weekdays.”

“Weekends?”

“What is a weekend?” Charlotte’s monotone voice almost convinced Ali she was serious. “Actually, we just recently implemented a policy of no work on the weekends and holidays. And everyone must be out of the office by 6pm. I’ve lost too many good people to burn out. Eventually, I want to have it be a four-day work week, but that’s harder to achieve than expected.”

“Something to work toward,” Ali commented, admiring how Charlotte cared about her employees’ work life balance. Having worked in the corporate world, she knew it wasn’t always the case.

“Indeed. But alas, I’m afraid I must say goodbye.”

“Another meeting?”

“Always another meeting,” Charlotte murmured. Ali recognized the halfhearted attempt to disguise the resignation in her tone. “I’ll send my address later. I look forward to dinner tomorrow.”

“Sounds good, babe! Go kick ass in your meeting.”

“I always do,” Charlotte boasted before softening. “Goodbye, darling.”

“Bye, Charlotte.”

Pulling the phone away, Ali stared at the screen, trying to take it all in. Her heart fluttered as she added the date into her calendar. Even though it was pretend, the thrum of excitement remained. The last date she went on happened almost two years ago and couldn’t be described as pleasant. Ali cringed remembering the humiliation. Her ex chose to end things on the drive to the restaurant, insisting on going to dinner and proceeding to shame Ali for being too upset to eat. Ali spent the dinner all but non-verbal, scratching bits of paint that refused to wash off her hands instead of giving in to the need to straighten or rearrange every item on the table… Those packets of sweetener were likely still all mixed up to this day.

But Ali knew in her bones the experience she would have with Charlotte would be an adventure.

As an artist, she always welcomed whatever life decided to bring her way. In fact, her thirst for experience and inspiration was perhaps the main reason she moved so often. Or perhaps it was the final words her mother said to her before she died, her final instruction.

Ali’s thumb ran over the flared sun engraved on the face of the golden oval locket her mother left her. She never took it off.

Disoriented by her current surroundings, she spun around and laughed. Wrapped up in her conversation with Charlotte, she went right past the pizzeria a full two blocks. It shouldn’t surprise her, she couldn’t be the first woman to get so absorbed in Charlotte Davenport’s voice she lost track of the physical world entirely. She set off again, back the way she came, unable to shake the feeling something was just beginning.

Though adventure always excited her, it wasn’t what she craved most. No. She was tired of moving. Having no roots deep enough to keep her in one place for longer than a year was becoming exhausting. Making friends was easy enough. But letting the wind carry her meant there were few long-lasting connections.

No, adventure wasn’t what she craved. It was family and a place to call home.

She hadn’t had either of those in a long time.

Ali let out a happy sigh as she opened her apartment door and heard the usual greeting. Looking into the living room, she smiled as the longhaired tortoiseshell cat arched her back dramatically as she rose, little feet digging into the plush throw draped over the ivory colored couch Ali resisted committing to for years. Willow hopped onto the cushions as Ali toed off her sneakers, placing them neatly below a row of coat hooks. Her mother took Ali to the nearest animal shelter after her diagnosis and told her to pick out a friend. Willow went everywhere with her and was by far her most trusted confidant.

“Good afternoon, Willow. Did you have a good day?” she asked, setting her bag down and bending to scoop up the opinionated furball. “Guess what!”

Willow meowed as though terribly interested and let herself be toted through the small two-bedroom apartment.