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“Just trying to find my place in the world. A place where I can take root.”

“Most people would say their family is where their roots are.”

Fair point.

Something heavy pressed down in Ali’s chest. Her long list of dead relatives wasn’t something she talked about until she developed a deeper level of trust. Trust Charlotte likely wasn’t interested in building.

“I guess you could say my roots got ripped up and I’m looking for a place to replant them.”

7

CHARLOTTE

My roots got ripped up…

Those words pinballed around Charlotte’s mind before settling like heavy stones in her stomach, weighed down with the reality they carried. Ali didn’t have a family.

It seemed a great injustice. Someone as bright and joyful as Ali should have somewhere to call home. Life often lacked justice.

Drinks appeared in front of them thanks to the waitress who was already scurrying away.

Ali grabbed hers, lifting it to her mouth, the tips of her ears flushing red, hand jumping to her locket.

It’s rude to stare, Charlotte reminded herself, looking down at the table and reaching for her wine glass, the coolness against her fingers grounding in a way.

“Are you enjoying Boston so far?”

Ali exhaled, brightening again as her chin bobbed.

“It’s been my favorite so far. The energy itself is one thing. It’s rich with history and culture. The food is great as are the artist communities. I’ve really bonded with Wren too.” Ali said, looking thoughtful. “I haven’t decided if it’s enough to keep me here yet, though. But I guess my possible move might be a good cover for our fake breakup.”

“That it would.”

Charlotte agreed, grateful to know they were on the same page. Neither was looking for this to become anything serious. Their mutual attraction opened the door for something casual. But with the easy way their conversation flowed it seemed a friendship might blossom.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” Ali asked, propping her chin in her hand as she gazed at Charlotte with those soft, honey-brown eyes, warm and glinting where the setting sun caught them.

“Other than college, yes. But I’ve traveled extensively.”

“What’s your most favorite place you’ve ever been?”

Charlotte hummed. “For food, Italy. History, the UK. Art and fashion, France. But for the great outdoors and variety, I’d have to say here in the US.”

“They say variety is the spice of life,” Ali added, those damn dimples peeking out.

“What about you?”

“I got my passport years ago but it’s hard enough for me to leave Willow for a weekend sometimes. I can’t imagine leaving her for longer and being so far away.”

Brown eyes shifted. Ali moved her other hand to idly run her nails across her upper forearm, picking at her skin and drawing Charlotte’s attention back to her vine tattoo. It suited her. She wondered if there were more. Her mouth watered at the thought.

“Understandable. Is she your baby?”

“Oh yes.”

“You’ll like my mother. She loves all animals and spends her retirement volunteering at the local animal shelter.”

“She already sounds like a saint.” Ali’s lips curled further, deepening the dimples in her cheeks. She made a circle motion in the air around her own face. “You soften when you talk about your family.”