Forty minutes and about eighty bottles of lube later, Abby shows up on Jackson’s doorstep wearing a slinky camisole. She’s twisted her hair into two French braids, making her look like a sexy Lolita.

“You are an angel.” I squish her into a hug. “Thank you.” I am so lucky to have her—my friend who doesn’t question things when I ask her to show up and pack lube. Who only ever supported me from the moment I first dreamed up this crazy business.

“Thank your dad for watching Nico.” She frowns. “Although he arrived with lollipops and if Nico is up all night, I know who to blame.” Abigail peers over my shoulder, assessing the room. “Swank place.” Then she sees the cardboard tower of doom. “Holy shit, that’s a lot of lube.”

It absolutely is—enough to fill at least a few inflatable kiddie pools, by my calculations. How many babies will be conceived because of me? Maybe Penchant babies can be the stars of my future marketing campaigns. Ha.

Abigail and I sit down on the floor, a stack of boxes between us, and soon enough we get a rhythm going. For some reason, having her help pack the bottles into their retail boxes more than doubles my speed.

“So how are you doing?” she asks a few minutes in.

“Fine,” I say, too brightly. “Better now that you’re here.”

“Okay.” She gives me a long look. “Not that I’m not flattered by your invitation to pack lube, but why isn’t Jackson doing this with you instead?” Her voice hardens. “He didn’t bail on you, did he?”

I cringe. I’m the only one doing the bailing here. I suck in a breath to steady myself. “No, he didn’t bail. Jackson and I are no longer…thinging…so this is a little less messy for everyone.”

“I’m sorry, babe.”

I give her a sad smile. “Me too. But it’s better this way. Because, you know, it’s Jackson.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “You don’t seem very happy. And when you were still, ahem, thinging, you looked like you were ready to take on the world.”

I felt like it, too. I fold a fresh retail box. “Are you defending Jackson?” Sliding a bottle of lube into the box gives me an excuse not to look her in the eye. “That’s a first.”

Abigail sighs, reaching for another bottle of lube. “I may not have been entirely fair to Jackson. It’s not that I don’t like him. I just hated seeing you orbit him.”

“You know me. Just a little satellite.”

She shakes her head. “No. That’s not what’s happening now. As far as I can tell, you got this business idea on your own, did your research, and found your suppliers. And when you hit a bump you kept going.” She holds up a bottle and a little thrill zings across my chest. It might just be the prettiest bottle of lube I’ve ever seen. “You’ve got an actual product with your company’s name on it,” Abigail says, and I nod in agreement. “You did that, Natalie, and you should be proud. I’m proud of you. Jackson may have helped, but none of this would have happened if not for you.”

I chew on my bottom lip. “But he’s been part of this all.”

“Sure,” she agrees. “I don’t think he’s held you back. You’ve been with him and kept going, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“And you’re here now, working your ass off, whether or not Jackson is too.” She presses her lips into a line. “How’d you get in here anyway?”

“Jackson gave me a key.”

Abby’s eyes widen. “Damn. That’s a big step.”

I nod. “We’re supposed to be business partners.” If only I could trust him with anything else. Another tear sneaks out of my eye, rolling down my cheek to plop onto a box. I want to believe him but I can’t.

“Don’t worry, babe.” Abigail breaks the rhythm of packing to give me a sideways hug. “Just put your time and love where it matters.”

She’s absolutely right. Which is why the next day, after a late night packing lube, I head into Holy Grounds and track down Mr. Spence.

He peers at me over the edge of his glasses, taking in the stack of clothes tucked under my arm. “Why aren’t you in your uniform?”

“I’m putting in my notice.” Hmm, that doesn’t feel as satisfying as I’d hoped. “Actually, I’m quitting. As of today.” Much better.

My boss eyes me over the pastry case, frowning. “Are you sure?” The crease between his eyes deepens. “Jess called in sick again and I’m going to need you to work. She’s got something really nasty. Spring flu or something.”

I was only going to work another week until I went back to Boston, anyway, so it’s not like I’m bailing out on this job too early. But while a few extra days at the coffee shop won’t make a huge difference in my paycheck, it could make or break my business.

“Yeah.” I place my Holy Grounds uniform on the counter. I tilt my chin up at him and smile. “I’m sure.”

For the first time, quitting doesn’t feel like running away from something. I’m running toward my business, my future, with my arms wide open. I’m pivoting toward something new. I’m Delilah Overbrook. I’m Natalie Bloom.

I take a deep breath before walking away. The air smells like coffee and dessert, sweet and full of promise. I smile to myself and swing out the door.