* * *

Italy…

Bertie Franklin-Hart watched his best friend marry the girl of his dreams and felt every emotion. Christo, his life-long friend, had found his true love, Noosh, and together they had been through so much. They deserved their happy ever after.

It was with only a little tinge of envy that he waved them off on honeymoon, along with all their friends and family. The party went on for a few more hours, though when it got past midnight, people started to drift away.

Bertie scored himself a bottle of Christo’s best scotch and went to find someone interesting to talk to. Outside, at a far corner of the garden, he caught a whiff of pot coming from behind a small stone wall. Peering over, he saw Ally Monroe, her shoes kicked off, smoking a joint.

She grinned when she saw him. “Bertram! How dandy to see you. Come, pull up some grass.”

Bertie grinned as he settled down on the ground. “You’re wasted.”

“And proud of it. Here.” She handed him the joint and Bertie took a long toke. “Christo scored me some from a contact he has over here.”

Bertie handed her the joint back and offered her the bottle of scotch. “He’s a good boy.”

“That he is.” Ally took a swig from the bottle and grimaced. “I don’t even like scotch.”

Bertie laughed. Ally and he had always gotten along – both having the same wicked sense of humor, fun and filthy, and they had flirted casually every time they had been together – which was often as Noosh and Christo had brought everyone together.

If he was honest, Ally wasn’t even his type when it came to dating. She was taller than him by an inch, even without the sky-high heels she wore, and her short dark hair was closely cropped to her head. Handsome rather than beautiful, she had cheekbones to die for and a full mouth that was just a little too wide for her features. Sexy, yes, but the thing that drew Bertie to her was her wit and vivacity, her unapologetic way of knowing what she wanted and how to get it. That, he thought, was sexier than any picture-perfect face.

Ally was studying him, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Bertram Franklin-Hart, if you think you’re going to get lucky with this girl tonight – think again.”

Bertie chuckled. “Darn it, you caught me.”

Ally sat up, unsteadily. “I’m too much woman for you, Bertie.” She hiccupped loudly and Bertie reached over to take the joint from her.

“Ally, I couldn’t agree more. Out of interest…are you seeing anyone?”

Ally took a deep breath in, trying to recall through a marijuana fog. “A couple, nothing series or exclusive. Truthfully, although this...” She waved her hand around the gardens, lit up by thousands of tiny fairy lights, and sound-tracked by the sounds of waves crashing on the rocks below the cliff. “This is all very romantic. Fairytale stuff and I couldn’t be happier for Noosh and Christo. It’s just not me. Marriage is something I’ve never aspired to.”

Bertie nodded. “I hear you.”

“What about you? Still pining over Helena Hootentoot?”

Bertie smirked. “DeVito, and not so much these days. She’s seeing a painter from Romania.”

“Wooh-mania, in Helena’s case,” Ally said wickedly. “I interviewed her once; she did not like me.”

“I remember. Do you have to be so vewy wude, Miss Munwoe?” Bertie was grinning widely and Ally cackled.

“What’s painter’s name?”

“Rolly Lungu.”

Ally hooted. “No. No. Wowwy Wungu?”

“He’s wuvwy.”

They both got the giggles hard then. “We are the worst.” Ally pinched the end of the joint together and sighed. “That’s good stuff, but I don’t want to be still stoned when I get to the airport. I’m not in the mood for a rubber-clad finger up my ass.”

“Lovely image, thank you. Look, let’s have drinks and rip people to shreds for no other reason than our own amusement when we get back to New York.”

“Give me your phone.” Ally took his phone and put her number into his contacts. “Always available for random bitching and moaning about Hewana.”

“Awwy, that’s unpweasant.”

“I’m sowwy.”

Bertie hauled her to her feet and they hugged. “You’re wight.”

“What?”

Bertie grinned at her. “We are the worst.

Manhattan…

Ally sat in her recording studio going through her notes, and grinning to herself. Last night, she and Bertie had talked on the phone for hours – since returning from Italy a month ago, it had become a routine, both of them workaholics during the day, they would each settle in their respective apartments, drink in hand and talk on the phone.

Bertie would begin each call with a “Hey, buddy” which Ally found adorable. She would shoot back with “Hey, loser” which always made him laugh.

But Bertie was far from being a loser. She had been surprised at how erudite and varied his interests were, how he had carved himself a career despite his family’s great wealth.

“Do you see them much?” She had asked the previous night.

“Not so much,” he said without any regret. “To be honest, Christo is more my family than anyone – and now Noosh, of course. It’s not that there’s any argument between my family and I, just that we’ve never been particularly close. We’re not the sort of family who show our emotions. No hugs and open feelings. Works for us. You?”

“Mom, Dad, and younger sister back in Dayton. Typical white bread family, unambitious, happy with our lot. Except for me, of course. I bucked the trend.”

“And then some,” Bertie said admiringly. “I bet they’re proud.”

Ally laughed softly. “Yup, they never stop telling me. My sister comes into New York sometimes and hangs out at the studio. I try and persuade her to come train but she’s happy just observing.”

“What does she do?”

“High-school. She’s twenty-eight years younger than me.”

“No way.”

Ally grinned down the phone. “I believe that’s what my parents said when they found out Mom was pregnant at almost fifty. Tally came along and we all fell in love. She’s spoiled but you would never know it.”

“That’s the softest I ever heard you talk about someone,” Bertie said quietly. “You adore her.”

“I do. In a lot of ways, I see a lot of her in Noosh. Probably why I think of Noosh as my sister too. I wonder how the honeymoon is going.”

Bertie laughed, a filthy, throaty sound which made her belly quiver. “Otherwise known as the ‘Humpy-moon.’”

Ally was thinking of that, now, as she went over the notes for her show that afternoon. She would record the show in the afternoon, do the edit, then the show itself would go out after midnight. She was still smiling when her assistant, Kristina, came looking for her. A feisty Latina from Queens, Kristina was ruthlessly efficient, resolutely un-star struck, and an absolute scream. Ally had bonded with her immediately, although she still felt the loss of Liam, the station’s camp and sweet receptionist who’d been murdered by Destry Papps, the man who had nearly killed Noosh and Christo.

Kristina had always been respectful of Liam’s memory, and Ally credited her with helping the staff get through the horrors of a couple of years ago.

Now, she flopped down in the chair opposite her boss and fanned herself. “I swear, boss, unless they fix the air con in here, this little one will insist on me having an ice bath every night.” She stroked her hugely pregnant belly. Ally grinned.

“Look, they’re scheduled to come this afternoon. Why don’t you take off for the rest of day? We can cope.”

“You sure?”

“Very. We owe you hours and hours as it is.”

Kristina grinned, then looked blank. “What did I come up for? Oh, yeah. Visitor for you. Handsome, preppy, nice ass. Said he was dropping in on the off-chance you were free for lunch.”

Bertie. Ally tried to ignore her burning face. “You didn’t bring him up?”

“Said he wanted to wait, didn’t want to interrupt you if you were working on a masterpiece. His words.”

Ally laughed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, I’ll walk you down.”

She grabbed her bag and rode down in the elevator with Kristina, and as she stepped out, she saw him. He was wearing a beautiful tweed jacket and jeans and to her surprise, Ally’s body reacted him. He kissed her cheek, lingering a beat too long. “Hey, buddy.”

Ally swallowed, suddenly shy but desperate to hide it. “Hey, loser.” But her voice was soft and their gazes locked – and held.

“Ahem.” Kristina was grinning as Ally started then looked at her, her face burning again. “So, I’ll take off, boss, if that’s okay?”

Ally relaxed and grinned. “Of course. See you tomorrow, Kristina.”

“Laters. Have a nice, um, lunch.” With her tongue stuck in her cheek, Kristina waved at them as she took off into the melee of the New York streets.

“So.” Bertie offered Ally his hand and she hesitated before taking it. “What shall we do?”

It was amazing how much meaning he could get into those few words, but Ally suddenly felt like throwing caution to the wind.

“I think we both know, Bertram.”

Bertie’s grin widened, almost catlike and smug. Ally could help grinning. “My god, you have the biggest ego.”

Bertie shrugged. “I don’t have time for games,” he said, pulling her close, brushing his lips against hers. “I’m too old for that – and I know what I want.”

Ally kissed him back, not caring of any of her colleagues or friends saw him. His lips were soft, but the pressure of them against hers was sure and decisive. “What time do you have to be back here?”

Ally grinned. “Four o’clock at the latest.”

“Well, would you look at that…it’s only just noon now.” Bertie’s fingers twined around hers and they walked slowly to his waiting car.

“Yours or mine?” He said as they slid into the Mercedes. Ally smiled at him.

“Mine. It’s my rule. Always my place – and no sleepovers.”

Bertie chuckled. “You got it, buddy.”

Ally asked herself over and over during the car journey if she was doing the right thing, but fuck it, she wanted this man, and he clearly wanted her. At her apartment, they wasted no time, stripping each other, kissing, exploring the other’s body with their hands, with their tongues. Bertie was well-built, broad chest and slender hips, his chest scattered with dark hairs, his pecs well-defined.

Ally stroked a hand down his flat stomach, felt it quiver under her touch, then she moved down to his cock, thick and long, curving up, rock-hard. She sank to her knees and took it in her mouth, feeling Bertie tremble, hearing his low groan of pleasure. She swept her tongue over the wide crest of him, teasing the sensitive tip, tasting the salty pre-cum.

“God, Ally,” Bertie hissed out between his teeth as he grew close, and when he came, shuddering and shivering, Ally swallowed his seed down. He swept her on to the bed and pushed her legs apart, burying his face in her sex, his tongue hungry, dipping into her cunt and wrapping around her clit. He was masterful at knowing exactly what would excite her and he was relentless, nipping at her clit with his teeth, sliding two fingers into her cunt that when she came, Ally was lost in a delirium of pleasure.

Bertie moved up her body, kissing her belly, her breasts, sucking her nipples until, at last, his mouth found hers again. He hitched her legs around his hips and glided his huge cock into her ready and swollen cunt.

Their gazes locked as they began to fuck, marveling over how perfectly their bodies fit together, how quickly they found their rhythm. Their lips moved against the others with a fiery passion, fingers stroking, caressing. Ally’s fingernails digging into the muscles of his back, then into his buttocks as she urged him deeper, harder inside of her. They lost themselves in the ecstasy of their coupling, until both came, panting and gasping, Bertie shooting thick, creamy cum deep into her belly.

They collapsed together, panting and laughing. “God,” Bertie said, breathless, “that was incredible.”

“Damn straight,” Ally said and laughed. “Wow…wow…my whole body is still tingling.”

Bertie grinned. “You’re welcome.” Ally burst out laughing.

“Such a loser.” But she stroked his face tenderly. “Bertie Franklin-Hart…who knew?”

He kissed her, slowly this time, lingering over it. “Can I interest you in dinner tonight?”

Ally nodded. “You can…but, Bertie, I meant what I said. I’m not looking for a relationship.”

Bertie smiled. “I know, and I’m not expecting anything. Friends with benefits?”

“Perfect.” She kissed him back. “Let’s just do all the fun stuff, without the headache of commitment.”

“You realize you just suggested what every man dreams of?”

Ally grinned at Bertie’s tongue-in-cheek words. “I’m well aware.”

Bertie stroked her hair back from her face. “You’re beautiful.”

Ally rolled her eyes. “Thank you, but I know what I am. Noosh is beautiful, I am…striking. I’m not soft and warm like Noosh, but I’m comfortable with the way I look.”

Bertie shook his head. “I didn’t just mean your exquisite face. I meant, your humor, your intelligence, your spirit. Looks fade, and in the end who cares? It’s all subjective. What counts is that we’ve found a real, true friendship. That means more to me than anything.”

Ally was touched. “Me too.” She gave a bemused little chuckle. “You know what, I’ve always thought of myself as someone who didn’t subscribe to that whole woman’s woman or men’s woman thing, never differentiated between the genders. It’s about the person for me. But I think you are actually the first man I’ve ever explored a true friendship with.”

“I’m honored.” Bertie shifted so his body covered hers. “And in the spirit of true friendship…”

They made love again, then Bertie drove her back to the station. “Shall I pick you up from here later?”

Ally hesitated. “No, from my apartment. Eight?”

“I can’t wait.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Ally tried to concentrate on her writing and recorded her show, but she was aware she was less connected than usual with her work. Signing off, she couldn’t help let a little bit of the excitement she was feeling creep in as she bid her listeners good night.

“Don’t forget to hug your loved ones, people. It’s important, in this climate, we remember the good things life…and the amazing people all around us. Goodnight.”

She was clearing her desk when her boss, Seth, came to see her. “Hey, remember that Mob boss’s daughter you interviewed at the same time as you interviewed Christo?”

Ally looked up, frowning. “Helena DeVito? Sure.”

“She just called me. Said she had a pitch for a radio show.”

Ally snorted. “Oh, really?”

Seth grinned, but sat down anyway. Ally stole a quick look at the clock. Almost six. If she wanted to get home and soak in the tub before Bertie came over, she’d have to motor. She prayed Seth wasn’t going to linger.

“Well, that was my first reaction, but hear me out. She wants to do a fly-on-the-wall documentary of what it’s really like living as one of the biggest Mob families. Not just a snapshot, but an in-depth look. She suggested working with you on it, and Noosh.”

Ally was flabbergasted. “Me? She hated me on sight, Seth, and to be honest, I wasn’t overly enamored of her. Why the hell would she…?” She broke off as the realization hit. “Oh, for god’s sake…”

“What?” It was Seth’s turn to look confused, but Ally shook her head.

“No, sorry, Seth. I don’t trust the woman, she’s a snake and I don’t trust she’s doing this for anything other than personal grudges.”

Seth’s eyebrows shot up. “A personal grudge? After all this time?”

Ally felt her face burn. “Seth, I believe that Helena is, how do you say it, in a pissing contest of her own making.”

“You’re really not making any sense, Ally.”

Ally sighed. “Bertie Franklin-Hart.” That was all she said but she gave Seth a meaningful look and saw understanding wash over his expression.

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

Seth got up and nodded. “In that case, agreed, it’s a no-go. We don’t have time for petty animus here.”

“One hundred-percent.”

Seth smiled at his long-term friend and colleague. “I got your back, honey and Ally?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m happy for you, Boo.”

Ally chuckled. “It’s nothing serious, just two good friends enjoying time together. Nothing heavy – although how Helena found out so quickly, I do not know.”

“Well, however she did, it’s none of her business. Hasn’t she been keeping Bertie on a string for years?”

“Yup.”

Seth rolled his eyes. “The best woman won.”

“Seth, seriously, it’s just fun. I haven’t ‘won’ anything or anyone.”

“We’ll see.” Seth grinned wickedly at her then ducked as she threw a stapler at him. “Later, kiddo.”

Ally finally got home just after seven and stripping off, she went to run a bath. Sinking her tired but excited body into the hot water, she sighed happily, going through her wardrobe, deciding what to wear for their date. Not a date, she told herself, just two friends grabbing a bite to eat. That’s all.

Still, when she had finished her bath, she chose her underwear carefully, black silk, and her favorite black Vera Wang which clung to her every curve. She never wore much make-up and she didn’t tonight, knowing she’d leave most of it on her pillow if the night ended how she expected it too.

Her sex quivered with anticipation, her belly flipped when the intercom buzzed. “Come on up.” She practically purred it into the intercom and heard his low, throaty chuckle.

A minute later, she opened the door to him. He wore a beautiful bespoke tailored suit, dark grey, with a light blue shirt. He smelled wonderfully of spicy cologne.

Ally grinned at his expectant face and grabbed his tie, pulling himself. “Fuck dinner,” she whispered, her lips close to his, “fuck me instead.”

In seconds, her Vera Wang was on the floor, and Bertie’s mouth was on her nipples as he tugged her panties off. They fucked on the floor, hard and fast, murmuring to each other what they wanted to do. He took her against the wall, bent over her couch, and much later, they fucked her shower, slipping and sliding, giggling furiously until they tumbled to the cold tile floor. Ally couldn’t get enough of him – when his teeth nibbled at her nipples, when his tongue rimmed her belly-button, and his cock, his magnificent cock reamed her into submission until she was almost sobbing in ecstasy.

Later, they ordered pizza, gorging themselves, then fucking again on her couch, Ally straddling him, riding his huge cock until she felt him come deep inside her.

It was almost three a.m. before Bertie got dressed. Ally went to the door with him, wondering if she should ask him to stay. No. It had always been her rule – no sleepovers. A small voice inside her said this was different, but she pushed the thought away. She wasn’t some lovesick teenager and they weren’t dating.

Bertie kissed her thoroughly and said goodbye and Ally felt bereft as soon as she closed the door behind him. For a second, she put her hand back on the door handle, ready to open it and call him back…

…but she didn’t. Little did she know how much she would regret not doing so.

Bertie took a cab home to his apartment, smiling to himself. Ally Monroe was intoxicating and despite him agreeing to be just friends, he too knew it was more than that. They had a real connection, something he hadn’t known very much with previous girlfriends, and Bertie was confident enough to know himself, know when he was serious about someone.

But, he would never railroad someone he cared so much about, and so he would wait. It wasn’t like with his other hook-ups – he wanted to hang out with Ally all the time, not just in bed. She was the first person he thought of when he saw something funny in the news, or on the street, or on tv. He loved the way she called him a loser, that intimacy that allowed them to bust each other’s chops without fear of causing offence.

Bertie had always felt tethered in his relationships by the fact that he decided, when he was a young man, that his heart always belonged to Helena DeVito. The blonde girl had haunted his dreams as a teen and when he’d met Christo and gotten to know Helena through his friend, that crush had deepened.

But it wasn’t real. Helena had always managed to keep just out of reach, at the same time as keeping Bertie in her life. Christo had always told him that he believed Helena was merely using Bertie, but Bertie, loyal to the last, had always denied it. It had only been since Noosh and Christo’s wedding, and hanging out with Ally that Bertie had seen things in a different light, had seen a new way to life.

He would have given anything to have Ally ask him to stay the night, but he reasoned, it was the first night since they’d became…more. He was excited to see where this could go, but he wanted to call her as soon as he had left her.

Damn it, Monroe, you have me enchanted. He was still grinning to himself as he rode the elevator to his apartment, but when the doors opened, his smile faded.

Helena, tears streaking down her face, clambered up from the floor. “Bertie.”

Seeing her in such a state, his heart immediately went out to mer. He steadied her and walked her into his apartment. “What is it, sweetheart? What’s happened?”

“Wowwy dumped me,” Helena was hiccupping now as her sobs subsided. “He said even though he wuvved me, he wasn’t weady for a wong-term commitment.”

Bertie, to his own embarrassment, had to choke back a laugh. Damn, Monroe, you’ve ruined Helena for me. He arranged his face into an appropriate expression. “Darling, I’m so sorry.” He realized he was over-enunciating his ‘R’s’ and berated himself silently. Helena was obviously very upset.

He poured her a drink, then put her to bed in his guest bedroom, finally falling into bed after six a.m.

Two hours later, he woke to find Helena in bed with him. Bertie shot up and out of bed, and Helena woke up. “Bertie, what’s wong?”

He didn’t find it funny now. “What do you think you’re doing, Helena?”

Helena smiled, a seductive purr. She deliberately let the sheet she was holding drop to expose her breasts “I thought this is what you wanted. For a wong time now. Forever. I fina-wee wealized that I wuv you. Isn’t that gweat?”

No. It wasn’t ‘gweat’ at all, he realized. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, however. He sat on the edge of the bed. “Darling Helena…I think we both know we were never meant to be. If we were, it would have happened long ago. I’ve moved on, and I do believe, you just feel that way because Wowwy – sorry, Rolly – has broken up with you.” He gave her a sympathetic smile. “You were always too good for him.”

Helena, her face bright red, looked away from him, obviously humiliated. “You don’t mean that.”

Bertie patted her hand, then pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness. “I do, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you get dressed an I’ll order us some breakfast?”

He got up off the bed but as he opened the bedroom door, she called him back. Helena wore a slightly spiteful look on her face. “Is it that d.j. person?”

Bertie felt his hackles rise. How the hell did Helena know about Ally? “I don’t know who you mean. Get dressed, Helena.”

He went into his kitchen and opened the refrigerator, wondering why he felt so irked. He dragged out some eggs and fried them on the skillet. Just as he was serving them up, he heard the knock at the front door.

Wondering why his intercom hadn’t buzzed, he opened the door. Ally grinned at him, holding up a brown paper-bag and two take-out coffee cups. “Got your message, loser, and thought I’d indulge you just this once.”

She walked in and kissed him full on the mouth. Bertie gave a bemused chuckle. “Always good to see you, buddy, but I didn’t send you a message.”

“I did.”

They both turned to see Helena, wearing Bertie’s shirt, open, her spectacular body displayed. She smiled triumphantly. “I thought we’d better sit down and hash this out.”

Ally had gone very still and when she looked back at Bertie, there was no warmth in her eyes. “Hash what out? Seems to be ‘this’, whatever it was, is between the two of you. I’ll get out of your hair.” She set the coffee and paper bag down. “It’s still hot, enjoy.”

She turned around and went for the door. Bertie caught up with her. “Ally, look, nothing happened with her, she just stayed the night because I found her outside my door.” He tried to smile at Ally, break the icy atmosphere between them. “Wowwy dumped her.”

Ally remained stone-faced. “Not my business, Bertie.”

She opened the door but he followed her out. “Seriously, Ally, there’s nothing going on between us.”

“I know that now,” she said and Bertie felt a rising panic in him. This couldn’t be over before it had even began and he said as much.

Ally shrugged. “Bertie, I thought you understood. There was nothing to be over with. Just friends, remember?”

“Then why are you angry?”

She didn’t answer him, just got into the elevator and didn’t look at him again. For a moment, Bertie just stood there as the elevator doors slid shut and he heard the lift descend. Shit.

He turned and went back into the apartment. Helena was helping herself to his eggs, and the coffee Ally had brought. “Did your friend weave?”

“Helena, what the fuck are you playing at?”

She smiled smugly. “Bertie, wet’s not pway about. I wuv you, I think I have always wuvved you. It’s just now I an weady to be your wife.”

Bertie burst out into mirthless laughter. “Helena, you have no shame, and no clue. It’s been a while since I felt anything but friendship for you. Being constantly knocked back for twenty-odd years and I finally got the message. So why now? Why have you decided this now? Is it just because there’s someone else I care for and you’re just worried your lapdog won’t be at your beck and call?”

Helena blinked at him, her smile fading. Bertie studied her. Beneath the hard-stone act, beneath the Queen Bee façade, she was still a lost little girl and he felt not anger but sympathy for her. “Helena, come on now. Get dressed, and I’ll drive you home. Let’s forget this ever happened.”

To his surprise, she just nodded. Asher house, she made to get out of the car then turned back to him, searching his face. “What’s she got that I haven’t?”

Bertie smiled kindly. “Me,” he said softly.

“Will she still want you after this?”

Bertie shook his head. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know.”

Helena nodded slowly. Eventually she sighed. “I’m sorry, Bertie. I’m sorry for not seeing you all those years. You’re right, I used you. I’m sorry.” She attempted a weak smile. “And I’m sorry if I ruined things for you with Allison Monroe.”

She got out of the car and went inside.

Bertie drove straight to Ally’s apartment. He wasn’t going to let this go. The last twenty-four hours of his life had been the happiest, the most fun, the feeling that he’d met his true north was imprinted on his brain.

Ally opened the door to him but didn’t invite him in. He wasn’t surprised. “Ally, look, this is absolute truth. She was on my doorstop last night in tears. I wasn’t going to turn my friend away so I let her stay. Lord knows what she was thinking but this morning she told me she loved me.”

Ally shrugged. “You’ve been waiting to hear those words from her for years.”

Bertie sighed. “Yes. I have. Or did. Yesterday lunchtime changed all that.”

“It was just great sex, Bertie.”

Ouch. He endeavored. “No, it wasn’t and I think we both know that. It was incredible sex, no doubt, but more than that…it was like finally realizing what real, grown up, mature partnership was. It’s great sex, but it’s compatibility, challenge, laughter, ideas, sharing and so many more other things besides…and the only person I want to try and build a future with…is you, Allison Monroe. You are my best friend, my lover…and I’m crazy about you.”

Ally’s mouth hitched up in a small smile. “So, friends with benefits was not on your agenda?”

“No, it was, it absolutely was, for as long as you wanted. Even if you still want it. I just want to spend time with you, that’s all I ask and if someday, you change your mind about a relationship, I will endeavor to be a better man and deserve you.”

Ally’s eyes were warm now. She stepped towards him, pressing her athletic body against his, looking him deep in the eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

Bertie leaned his forehead against hers. “Anything, baby, anything.”

She paused for along moment. “Are you…vewy, vewy sowwy?”

Bertie burst out laughing and Ally grinned, pulling him into her apartment, closed the door behind them and got on with the first day of their new life.

The End.