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They all looked around at the boxes and the storage unit, Wren stifled a chuckle, smirking at Natasha’s outrage.

Natasha rolled her eyes, adding. “Permanently. In a year, we’ll be laughing about this. Ali will be conquering the art world. Lilah will be deep into her master’s program. Birdy will get a break with her music.” She fixed Ali with a look that brokered no room for argument. “You and Charlotte will be obnoxiously in love.”

“What about you?” Wren asked, a subtle blush staining her cheeks.

Natasha inspected her manicure. “I’ll have my own office by then, for sure.”

Ali smiled at each of them. And it hit her then. Charlotte wasn’t the only reason she wanted to come back to Boston.

“Alright,” she agreed, nodding her head in determination. “I’ll talk to Charlotte. And in a year, we will celebrate our achievements.”

Wren grinned, hope bright in her eyes. Ali couldn’t help but smile back. Maybe they had both found a soft place to land after all.

“I’d like to rename our operation,” Wren said, getting back to her feet. “New name is —” her hand passed through the air like she could see the title written there. “Operation: Get Charlotte Davenport, CEO of Ridiculously Dreamy Eyes, to Admit She’s in Love With You.”

40

CHARLOTTE

Her eyes skimmed the same lines on her computer screen for the twelfth time. Some deep mystery lingered within the blurred script. Still nothing made sense. Focusing on anything but her own heartache and what Ali might possibly have to say was next to impossible.

Imani more or less ran their meetings all week. Her quiet, unwavering support, offered without question, was a godsend.

“Are you going to tell me what is going on with you?” Imani asked at last.

She leaned against the doorframe with a practiced ease, studying her with an expression Charlotte felt equally grateful for and undeserving of.

“There’s no judgment,” Imani added, pushing off the frame and stepping inside. “You’re allowed to have a bad day. You just typically aren’t this… blue.”

“It’s been an eventful couple of weeks.”

“The wedding went well, all things considered. You’ve found a therapist for Lilah. Ali’s show is this evening. The business is running smoothly. Profits are up.” Imani cocked her head, manicured nails tapping against the chair arm. “Have you talked to her yet?”

Charlotte didn’t respond, she didn’t need to. Imani already knew the answer.

Charlotte spun in her chair, the abstract paintings bracketing her shelves went by in a blur. She circled twice more before she slowed to a stop, meeting Imani’s gentle gaze. It kept her pinned, making escape impossible.

“Back in Aspen, before the wedding. We agreed to discuss the possibility of more once we got back.”

“That’s great,” Imani said immediately, her approval of Ali as ever, resolute. “So do that.”

“But long distance is hard,” Charlotte groaned, shaking her head and dropping Imani’s gaze.

“True,” Imani sighed, clinging to patience. “But, you can afford to fly to London every weekend if you want. We aren’t slammed right now. We can manage it.”

“She hasn’t actually told me she accepted yet.”

Imani lifted a brow. “Seems like a safe assumption.”

Charlotte sighed, swiveling in her chair to look out of her window at her view of the city. “We just… need to talk.”

“Bingo!” Imani cheered, drumming her excessively long manicured nails against the arm of her chair.

“I think I’m nervous,” Charlotte admitted. “Every time we’ve spoken, it’s like we’re both walking on eggshells.”

“Doesn’t it make sense given both of your histories?” Imani’s tone was unbearably patient. The tone she used when trying to help someone in a meeting comprehend simple things they should already understand.

Charlotte couldn’t stop herself from bristling at the tone.