I don’t want to leave them, and I am actually grateful her apartment is small right now.

“Yeah, come back tomorrow morning,” I say into my phone, letting our driver know we won’t be needing his services for the rest of the night. “Go back to the city. Get a good night’s sleep.”

I’m standing in the corner of her apartment where the small kitchen is tucked, grabbing a few things from the refrigerator. She has healthy stuff here, which works for me. Mark is the carnivore, and he always sets up meetings at Luger’s. My favorite restaurant is a little high-end vegan Asian fusion place on Park Avenue. I’m not vegan, but they have the best lychee martinis and veggie spring rolls, and I can’t wait to bring Scarlett there.

After assembling a few slices of fresh bread, carrots and some raw veggie slices on a plate, I bring it back into the living room where Scarlett and Mark and sitting with a bottle of wine.

“This looks so good,” Scarlett says, her eyes following the platter as I put it on the coffee table.

“I raided your refrigerator,” I say, “I hope you’re okay with that.”

“Okay with it?” she says, taking a snappy bite of a carrot stick, “I’m the one who sent you in there.”

I scoop my arm under her back and she nestles into me, her feet up on Mark’s lap. She is wearing a pretty black nightgown, and her full breasts and hips graze along the silk, making her look like a goddess.

“I wish I could serve this kind of stuff at The Gutter,” she says, nodding toward the tray. “I hate giving people the same few options over and over. But I guess that isn’t really my problem anymore.”

She takes another bite of her carrot and smiles at us.

“It’s your concern if you want it to be,” Mark says. He cups her heel with the palm of his hand and massages her calf, working her tired legs. “Your level of involvement will be up to you. If you want to sit around and give us orders and collect a fat paycheck, you can do that. Or you can give meaningful suggestions about what you think we should do.”

“Something tells us you’ll choose the latter,” I chime in, putting my hands on her shoulders.

“I’d love to still be involved,” she says brightly. “I’m thrilled that you’ve decided to keep me.”

“Keep you?” I say, my hands gliding over her shoulders and neck, “we aren’t going to let you go.”

Scarlett sighs deeply and shifts in her seat, a serious expression overtaking her face. She is a serious girl in a lot of ways: hard-working, devoted to her business, and determined. But I haven’t seen a look of concern on her face like this. Even when talking about the fate of The Gutter, she has a magnetic, infection optimism to her.

“What’s the matter, Scar?” Mark says, peering at her. I can see he is searching her for a clue as to what is on her mind, just like I am.

“I want to talk to you about something,” she says, looking between Mark and me, “I need to talk to both of you.”

“You know you can tell us whatever is on your mind,” Mark says.

I feel my pulse quicken, matching the anxiety in her eyes.

“I have to tell you both how I feel.”

She gets up and walks over to her window, peering out. The apartment at the top of one flight of stairs past the window of a bakery is where she’s been for a long time. I don’t know how long. But I don’t want her to live here anymore. As cute as the apartment is, she deserves more. She has worked hard for it, and Mark and I want to give it to her.

“I have never really left this town. I have never really left home,” she says, “I haven’t really told you guys the details, but both of my parents passed when I was younger. Not super young, but young enough that I was thrust into the real world very quickly and I didn’t really know what I was doing. And despite all the signs it wasn’t going to work out, I clung to The Gutter because it was the only piece of them that I had left.”

Scarlett turns to us, the bright evening moonlight flooding into the small apartment. It makes her look magical, and even more perfect than she already is.

“You don’t have to tell us everything. You don’t have to tell us anything. You can tell us in your own time, at your own speed, or not at all,” Mark says, “because all we care about is you right now, in this moment, and going forward. Whatever lead you here, it only matters because it lead you to us. And we know you haven’t had the easiest time these past few years, and there is nothing we can do to fix the past, but we can be here for you now.”

“That’s what we want, Scarlett,” I say, stepping toward her. “We want to be here for you. Because the truth is…”

And before I can tell her what I’m thinking, she throws her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek, waving for Mark to join us.

“The truth is I am falling for you too. Both of you. And it’s crazy. I know that. But it doesn’t matter,” she says, kissing us both on the cheek. “It doesn’t matter if it’s crazy.”

She’s right. It doesn’t matter if it’s crazy.

All that matter is that she’s with us.