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It shouldn’t have surprised Charlotte. Her family was everything to her, but most people took ages to catch the subtle way her shoulders eased, the quiet glow in her eyes when she mentioned them. Victoria certainly never had.

“Do I?” Charlotte asked, a faint warmth rising in her chest.

“Yep,” Ali said with a nod.

The waitress appeared, scooting the centerpiece to the side and setting their appetizer in front of them before vanishing again.

Ali rubbed her hands together, planning her attack on the steaming dish of calamari.

Charlotte eyed her overalls covered in an array of paint blots. The speckled rainbow added to her overall sunny disposition. Imagining her humming to her music as she added layers of paint to a canvas came easy. Dainty hands covered in colorful smears she would inevitably get everywhere. The proof was in the current smudge of lavender just behind her ear.

Everything about Ali was a breath of fresh air. An artist with a carefree spirit. Never acting a certain way to try and impress or force herself into some mold others might approve of.

Ali dunked a piece of calamari in sauce and popped it into her mouth, eyes rolling back as she groaned at the taste.

“Did you forget to eat?” Charlotte asked, wondering if anyone ever enjoyed calamari so much.

“Shamefully common occurrence. I often forget to feed and water myself, especially if I have a deadline coming up,” she admitted, dipping another piece. “Tell me about your family.”

Charlotte gave her usual spiel about her family, offering up all the anecdotal details. Ali listened and when Charlotte hadn’t tried any calamari, she nudged the plate closer again and again, honeyed eyes looking rather conspiratorial. It wasn’t that Charlotte didn’t like fried food. By thirty-six, her metabolism had slowed and now she rarely indulged. But those eyes and those damn dimples left her with no choice but to partake.

“Is Lilah your baby?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Ali nodded, making another loop around her face in explanation.

“She’s the little darling of our family. She could…”

Ali cocked her head, humor dancing in her eyes as she supplied. “Get away with murder?”

“Exactly. But murder would be unlikely as she’s too sweet,” Charlotte chuckled, spinning the stem of her wine glass between thumb and forefinger. “She was just the cutest thing growing up with her soft blonde curls and big hazel eyes. She has a great sense of humor. Lizzie and I, we both always knew what we wanted and we worked for it. Lilah works hard too, but…”

Charlotte hesitated, eyes lingering on the wine swirling in her glass.

“I didn’t really notice how much she has tried to be like Lizzie and me until recently. I think the age gap made her feel like she was chasing after us, trying to catch up. Being someone other than yourself never works out well for anyone. She’s still figuring out who she is. I imagine she will find you fascinating because of how sure of yourself and charismatic you are.”

The waitress appeared again, clearing away their empty appetizer dish, refilling their drinks and promising to bring their entrées soon.

Silence fell for a moment. Charlotte took another sip of her wine as Ali began straightening the items near her on the table before glancing back up.

“So, this ex of yours?”

“Victoria.”

Her name was acrid on Charlotte’s tongue as she spoke. Loath to tarnish the evening with talk of her.

“She’s actually my ex-fiancée.”

Ali’s eyebrows rose, lips forming an “O.”

“We were together for about three years. She proposed. I said yes. Two years ago, right before our engagement party, she broke it off.”

Ali blew out a low whistle. “I see the need for a fake girlfriend now.”

Charlotte nodded.

“I do not want her back. I’ve made this very clear to her, but she is…”