Back in New York a week later, I head uptown to meet with Olivia.

“Hey,” I greet Alice at the front desk.

“Olivia’s just finishing up a call,” Alice says, handing me a glass of fizzy water with a perfect slice of lemon floating in it. “She should only be a minute.” She’s wearing a navy-blue sheath dress and a sky-high pair of nude Louboutins, a set of delicate gold hoops at her ears.

“Can I say something weird?” I ask her, dropping my massive purse on the sofa. “Every time I see you I feel like you ought to be solving capers at, like, James Bond’s office. Actually, fuck that. I feel like you should be the female James Bond.” I pause. “I mean that as a compliment, PS.”

Alice lights up. “Thanks,” she grins. “Moneypenny is the best.”

“He would be so dead without her,” I agree.

I’ve barely gotten settled before Olivia slides open the pocket doors that lead to her office. “Jules,” she says with a smile, “come on in.”

I make my way back, and Olivia hands me a file folder. “Your exit paperwork,” she explains, as I glance through the contents. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to convince you to cash the check?”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t feel right to me,” I tell her. “Since Cal and I are . . . you know. For real now.”

“I do know,” Olivia says. “I have to say, this is getting to be a pattern. First Hallie and Max, now you guys.”

“Maybe you’re just that good at your job,” I laugh.

“Except this is definitely not in the description.” She sits back in her chair as I sign the paperwork. “So what’s next for you?” she asks, once I’ve handed it back. “I heard you had an offer at Harper Wells. Alice,” she adds at my questioning look.

See? James Bond shit. How does she even know that? “I’m thinking about it,” I tell her honestly. “I just . . . haven’t been able to pull the trigger yet.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I just don’t know if that’s the life I want anymore, you know?” I sigh. “The long hours, the insane pressure to bill. The vague but nevertheless constant suspicion that you’re aiding and abetting the downfall of everything good about humanity.” I pause. “And then there’s the fact that the office is here, and Cal and the kids are . . . not.”

“Long distance can be hard,” she agrees.

“It’s already getting old, driving back and forth all the time,” I confess. “But what am I going to do, uproot my entire life and move to Boston? It’s ridiculous.”

Olivia nods, a glint in her eye. “About as ridiculous as pretending to be someone’s fiancée and falling in love with them for real, I’d say.”

I grin. “Fair enough.”

Olivia gives me a warm smile. “Look, Jules, I always tell my clients that they deserve the absolute best. And now I’m telling you the same thing. Think about what’s going to make you happiest here. Imagine your best possible outcome. And then go get it.”

I laugh again, I can’t help it. “Sure,” I say, “like it’s that easy.”

Olivia smiles like a Mona Lisa, inscrutable. “Oh, I don’t know,” she says, reaching for her teacup. “Maybe it is.”

---

Back on the sidewalk, I decide to stroll downtown. The evening is warm, and the streets are busy with tourists and commuters, rushing for the subway. I’m just debating some “end of business” donuts when my phone rings: when I look at the caller ID and see the firm, I wince.

“Hi, Ms. Millstei—ah, Barbara,” I say, closing my eyes briefly. “How are you?”

“Good, Jules, good. I wanted to check in and see if you’d thought any more about our offer.”

“I’ve been considering it,” I tell her honestly “But it’s just—”

“Is there another firm after you?” she asks, sounding slightly impatient. “Because I’ve spoken to the other partners and we’re prepared to double what you were making before the . . . altercation.”

Double?

Holy shit.

I stop where I’m standing right there in the middle of the sidewalk, earning a nasty look from a suited businessman for my trouble. “That’s . . . extremely generous,” I tell her, thinking fast.

“Oh, I know,” Barbara says immediately, obviously pleased with her own largesse. “But it’s also good business sense. We want you, Jules, but the clock is ticking. I do need to know by the end of the day tomorrow.”

“Of course,” I tell her. “I understand.”

“I have to admit, I’m a little perplexed by your hesitation,” she continues. “If this is about trying to leverage a better offer, then—”

“It’s not,” I promise. “Really, Barbara—you’ve been more than fair.”

Barbara tsks quietly. “Well, in that case: what is there to think about, exactly?”

I imagine myself in my brand-new corner office. I imagine myself making partner by thirty-five. I imagine slipping right back into my old life, like the last few weeks never even happened, and then I take a deep breath. “You’re right, Barbara,” I tell her. “I’m sorry. There’s nothing to think about at all.”

---

The next morning I find Cal, Lottie, and Ezra in the backyard at the Brookline house, kicking a soccer ball around like something out of an L.L.Bean catalogue.

If L.L.Bean dressed their kids in mismatched dinosaur outfits and a Wonder Woman shirt. “Hey team,” I call, shutting the car door behind me. “You got room for one more?”

“Hi, Jules!” Ezra calls cheerily. Lottie raises her hand in a wave. Cal looks over, his face breaking into a slow, easy grin when he sees me. He’s dressed in jeans and a soft-looking V-neck T-shirt—the very definition, I think with a smile, of a dad I’d like to fuck.

“Hey,” he calls, kicking the ball to Lottie and heading across the lawn in my direction. “You’re early.” He slides his arms around my waist, tilting his face down for a kiss. “Couldn’t wait?”

“I didn’t want to wait,” I say, the words coming out all in a desperate rush. “I don’t want to do any more waiting, actually.” I take a deep breath, forcing myself to slow down and speak clearly. “What if I moved up here?” I ask him. “Full-time. To Boston.”

Cal’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

I nod. “I know it’s crazy,” I say quickly. “It’s so fast. And I don’t have to live with you guys. I could get my own place in town, build my own client list. We’ll see how it goes, and then in a few months or maybe even a year we can—”

“Jules,” Cal interrupts, laughing. “Yes.”

It takes a second to register. “Yes?” I repeat.

He nods, a slow grin spreading across his handsome face. “Move here. Live here, with us.”

My heart sings. “Really?”

“I was going to ask you this weekend,” he confesses, “but I was worried it was going to scare you off.” He exhales. “I wanted to ask you weeks ago, Jules. Fuck, I wanted to ask you the night we met.”

“I’m not scared,” I tell him, smiling ear to ear. “Shit, Cal, am I ever not scared.” I let myself imagine it for a moment, what it might look like and what it might mean. “What about the kids?”

“I talked to Lottie and Ezra about it,” he tells me, “and they’re into it. Lottie said you were, and I quote, ‘not terrible,’ which is about as high praise as it gets.” He wraps his arms around my waist. “Come home, Jules.”

I wrap my arms around him, and Cal ducks his head to claim my mouth in a hot, searing kiss.

 “Gross!” Ezra calls from across the yard, and we break apart just in time to witness him turn an impressive somersault on the trampoline.

“You’re gross,” Cal calls back cheerfully. “I, um, have to talk to Jules about something inside. No breaking your necks while we’re gone!”

They nod and he takes my hand, yanking me through the back door and around the corner into the hallway where nobody can see us. “Hi, roomie,” he mutters quietly, then shoves me up against the wall.

We don’t even manage to get our clothes off. Cal shoves up my skirt and I yank at the button of his jeans. He touches me, slipping one finger deep inside, and then another, as his palm presses against my clit and I moan out loud.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I gasp, and Cal bites down gently on my shoulder.

“Missed you, too.”

We stumble back, slipping to the floor, and then Cal is bracing himself above me, pure lust in his eyes as he sinks all the way inside. I clench around him with a shudder.

How could I ever think I could go without this? All the time, every damn day of my life.

He surges higher inside me, and I’m already on the edge. “Cal,” I gasp, bucking to meet him, every stroke. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

“Never,” he growls, kissing me again, hard, as his cock strokes deep inside, driving me wild. I want to make it last, make up for lost time, but my body breaks apart and pleasure shatters through me with a cry.

Cal groans my name, coming hard and fast, joining me on the other side of the fall.

“I love you, Jules Robinson,” he murmurs into my hair. “I love you so fucking much.”

I smile even though he can’t see me, reaching up to mess my fingers through his hair. “I love you too,” I promise. We’re quiet for a moment then, just breathing, the only sounds our heartbeats and the shouts of the kids outside.