It takes me another solid week of lying on the couch eating my body weight in carbs and getting teary-eyed at commercials for low-end jewelry stores before I finally pick myself up and decide: no more moping. I can’t wallow around forever. It was special, what I had with Ryan. Once in a lifetime, even. But it’s done now.

He’s moved on, obviously.

It’s way past time for me to do the same.

I spend the weekend working out and catching up on all the errands I’ve been ignoring since I got back from Florida, getting my hair cut and my nails painted and filling my fridge with—gasp—actual groceries. I pick up fresh flowers for my dining room table and grab a new candle for the office. By Monday morning, I’m feeling fresh and new.

Or at least that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

I put on my favorite work dress, a killer black sheath, and a pair of nude pumps that make my legs look a mile long. I treat myself to an extra-large, extra-hot latte on my way in, then fling open all of the windows to let the fresh air in.

“I’m Olivia fucking Danvers,” I tell Thor, ignoring the great skepticism written all over his mangy feline face. “I’ve got this.”

Hallie texts me mid-morning, the same way she’s done every day of my gloom. Status check? She writes. On a scale of 1 to 2007 Britney?

I’m OK, I type back. I even took a shower. Meet for donuts after work?

I’m there, she sends, with a flurry of thumbs up emojis.

I plow through the weekend’s email, lining up dates and setting up interviews. I’ve gotten what feels like a full day of work done by the time Alice comes in at ten. “We’ve got a new potential client,” she tells me, consulting her notes. “Super hush-hush. They didn’t want to tell me too much, but he’s minor royalty from Europe. And he’ll only meet with you in person.”

“Ooh.” I sit back in my desk chair, intrigued. A big, juicy project like this is exactly what I need to sink my teeth into. It’ll be great for the Agency.

And a perfect distraction for me.

Alice has set the meeting for this afternoon, so I freshen up my makeup and take a car downtown. I’m just turning the corner when Alice texts me: Last minute venue change, the message says, along with a new address a couple of blocks away.

I try not to get annoyed. I can go out of my way for minor royalty, but there’s traffic ahead, so I hop out and go the rest of the way on foot, hurrying to make up for lost time. When I turn onto the block, I stop, and I pull up Alice’s text one more time to make sure I’ve gotten the address right.

My fancy new client wants to meet at . . . the aquarium?

Well. “Even weirdos deserve love,” I remind myself, before pushing through the revolving doors.

This aquarium is even bigger than the one in Key West—noisy and crowded, packed with bewildered-looking tourists and little kids long past their naptime. I sidestep a toddler melting down beside the tropical fish tank, looking around with zero success for anyone who might be my mystery client. The old man in the Hawaiian shirt, wrangling a passel of grandkids? The harried dad taking a business call while his wife looks on in open irritation? I’m digging my phone out again to ask Alice where the hell this guy is when I turn the corner into the lobby and come to a screeching halt.

It’s Ryan.

Looking delicious in a three-piece suit.

Holding the largest bouquet of tropical flowers I’ve ever seen outside a five-star wedding.

For a moment I just freeze, standing still while the world spins on all around me. Then he sees me in the crowd, and there’s no going back.

I swallow hard and make my way over.

“Hi,” Ryan says, smiling a little bit sheepishly as I approach. “Olivia.”

“Hey,” I manage, my heart in my throat. “I don’t understand. You’re my mystery client?”

Ryan shrugs. “I hear you’re the best in the business,” he says quietly. “And I need someone on my team.”

My heart turns over, and all I want to do is hurl myself into his arms, but I can’t forget the way he looked at me, so stone-cold it was like he felt nothing.

“I tried to help you once, remember?” I say, my voice wavering a little, my eyes filling with tears before I can stop myself. “It didn’t go so great.”

“It went OK in the beginning,” he points out, with a rueful smile. “And, you know. The middle was pretty damn spectacular.”

I smile at that, I can’t help it. “The middle was spectacular,” I agree, remembering those nights gasping naked in his arms. “The end, though . . .”

He takes a step closer. “What if it wasn’t the end?”

My heart stops. “Ryan—”

“I fucked up,” he says simply. “I should have trusted you, Liv. I know you better than that. I got jealous and crazy, and I said some things I didn’t mean. I thought that guy—Tristan—was the kind of person you should be with. The kind of person you’d want to be with. And . . . I shut down. To protect my feelings, I guess. Like if I pushed you away first, it wouldn’t hurt so much. But I was wrong.”

Tears sting the back of my throat. I can’t believe he’s standing in front of me, saying these things.

Because if he really is sorry, if he didn’t mean what he said . . .

Then there’s hope. For us.

And fuck, if that tiny ray of hope isn’t the most amazing thing I’ve felt in weeks.

“I don’t want to be with Tristan,” I promise, needing to say it again. Make him believe how amazing he is. “It was only ever curiosity, wondering what he was up to now, but the second things started happening between you and me, I forgot all about him. He was just an old crush, one of those ‘might have beens.’ But you . . . you and me. You’re the real deal.”

I swallow hard, moving closer to him without thinking. It’s instinct, the way I belong in his arms, and he must feel the same, because he reaches for me.

“Mason and Arianna were right, about opposites attracting,” he says. “We make each other better, together.”

My heart does a wild flip. “So what are you saying exactly?” I ask, that ray of hope turning into a full-on solar storm.

“I want to be with you.” Ryan takes my hands, “If you’ll give me another chance, I promise not to get jealous and screw this up. I love you, Liv.”

His words hit me hard, in that small, lonely place I don’t even let myself feel anymore.

All this time, I’ve been getting by just fine on my own, but now I know I have someone on my team. Someone to support me and make me laugh—and make me moan with pleasure. The kind of man I didn’t even know I was looking for, until he showed up in my office, looking for somebody else.

“I love you too,” I manage to say, before choking up completely.

Ryan breaks into a grin. “Well, that’s a relief,” he laughs, before sweeping me into a smoldering kiss.

God, I could kiss this man forever. I melt against him, savoring the warm, familiar taste of him, making up for lost time. I’m winding my arms around his neck when I hear a chorus of oooooohs behind me—I look around and there are thirty kids on a field trip, and every single one of them is pointing.

“This is a place for children,” their teacher chides, her eyes narrowing behind her owlish glasses. “You two should be ashamed of yourselves.”

I feel my face flame, but Ryan just shrugs. “Mammalian mating rituals,” he jokes. “It’s good for them to learn.” He turns to me. “We should maybe get out of here before she gives us a detention.”

I laugh, so happy I don’t care who sees. “In a minute,” I say, dragging him back down to me. “Let them watch.”