When I open my eyes, we’re wrapped in a blanket and Allan is stroking my hair.

“Did I ever tell you how I love this hair of yours.”

I giggle, nuzzle into him deeper.

“No.”

Then, remembering Lisa, I sit up.

“What time is it? Has your sister woken up? Should we...?”

Allan pats my head.

“I don’t know, and no, she was out cold when I checked a few minutes ago. And no, the door’s locked and our clothes are heaped around here somewhere.”

It’s then that I notice it’s almost pitch-black in the room now, the candles having blown out some time ago. I’ve never liked the dark, and yet, now, I don’t feel the least bit afraid. No, right now, wrapped in the arms of this man I love, I don’t fear it one bit.

Allan pats my head and I shiver.

Love—yes, if anything, that’s what I fear, this feeling I get with Allan, this helpless adoration, this vulnerability. Like I could tell him anything. Like I could spend days on this cool VIP room floor with him and not get bored.

Allan’s still patting my head, rhythmic strokes that are so soothing, relaxing.

“Thank you for giving me another chance.”

I nuzzle myself upright, turn to kiss his cheek, then shake my head.

“I told you, it wasn’t me, it was Lisa. She came to the restaurant, told me about everything, about you being her half-brother, about the traffickers and how you reacted when you found out, how you’ve been trying to find her.”

The sound of a match, and then a lit candle in Allan’s hands, its pale rays throwing his face into half visibility.

“Yes, I’ve been so lucky she turned up okay, that I found her at all. And though the hardest part is over, my help for her has really just begun. Her memory’s foggy, she’s fragile, easily upset. I did whatever it took to find her; now I’m going to do whatever it takes to help her get better again—therapists, drugs, retreats, I don’t know. I don’t know how these things work, how people get better from traumas like these, but they do. Lots do and my sister will too. Lisa’s strong—one of the strongest people I know.”

I kiss his cheek again.

“Not unlike her big brother.”

Allan nods. Then, his face crumples and he burrows his head into my shoulder.

“Oh, but thank God for you, Eva. Thank you.”

I pat him, but now I feel uncomfortable myself.

“Allan, I haven’t really done anything, I...”

His head snaps up.

“You really have no idea, do you?”

I shake my head and he continues.

“Do you know what made me try that last time? Take that last trip to Russia to follow up the thirtieth tip I’d had over the years, to believe enough to actually give it a go—when every other time was a complete expensive dud?”

He grasps my hand.

“You did, Eva. After my sister disappeared, you heard what happened to me. At first, I put everything I had into finding her. When that didn’t work out, I spiraled into drugs. And even when I kicked that, I was still spiraling, I just never admitted it. The parties, drinking, the women—it was one, long circling the drain, nearing a total crash with each new day. I’d stopped bonding with people, seeing them; they all became objects to me, to be used or enjoyed, never truly connected with. And then I met you.”

His face turns away from me, toward the crack of the door where the light’s coming through.

“Then I met you, and in one night, that all changed. I didn’t know. I still don’t know exactly what it is about you that wakes me up, but it’s undeniable. That night I didn’t want to let you go. No, I wanted to take you in my arms and kiss you, right there in the lodge in front of everyone, right there on my building’s rooftop later. I wanted to tell you everything and lay myself at your feet, and let you decide the rest.”

His face darkens.

“But I was afraid. Of what a feeling this strong meant, of what giving in to my attraction to you would do to me. I was afraid that I couldn’t handle another disappointment, not after Lisa. And then, the tip came in—one of my private investigators told me that one of his friend’s friends heard something from a guy that my sister may be in Russia, that if I knew who to talk to, I could even go to where she was being kept. And so, I saw you one last time, and that day, I got in a jet and flew over there. To say that the conditions were horrific would be too generous; the girls had been living on floors like animals, chained to pillars, crying in their sleep. Lisa was... indescribable. Practically delirious. The traffickers, however, were nowhere to be seen. I guess whoever had tipped us off had tipped them off too, and they’d decided Lisa wasn’t worth the trouble, hoping I’d leave it at that. But boy are they wrong. As soon as Lisa gets better, we’re going to start working with the police, those sketch-artist guys, whoever, you name it. I’ll see those pigs in prison or dead, nothing less. They will get just what they deserve.”

His hard gaze turns to me, softens. He lifts his hand to my face, strokes it oh-so-tenderly.

“And you, Eva, you. You were the one who gave me that last hope, who woke me up enough to try. You, from start to finish, have been the difference. You were there for me when I was in one of the darkest periods of my life, and now that everything is better, there’s no one that I’d want to share this happier period with more.”

Allan’s grasp of my hand is firm, warm.

“Eva?”

And suddenly, I too find the words.

“I... can’t believe what I’m hearing, to be honest. It seems too much like a dream, too much like everything I’ve wanted these past few months. I... It can’t be real.”

Now, Allan’s pressing his lips to mine.

“It is real.”

Once again, he’s pressing me to him, my eyes are closing, and he’s rocking me, even slower this time. Until I’m half-asleep and then, suddenly, remembering just whose arms I’m in, just who’ve I slept with, I jerk up with a jolt.

A half-delighted, half-hysterical gurgle of laughter escapes my throat, then Allan’s laughing too. It’s both of us, flopped together on the floor, hands clasped, laughing our heads off at it, the luck of this, of everything, of us.

Allan squeezes my hand once again.

“So, is that your way of saying that I’m not a fool for having these strong of feelings for a woman I’ve only had a handful of dates with?”

I respond with a kiss.

“Not a complete fool.”

Allan smirks, and I continue.

“You too, Allan, awakened something in me that I’d forgotten was there. A sort of vulnerability, a willingness to share, an openness. Before, I was so caught up in power games and half-truths with men who weren’t good for me, I’d forgotten what a real, healthy relationship built on honesty and mutual respect looked like. You believed in me, my work—even when I had trouble believing in it myself. From the start, you saw me, you really saw me. And then, as I grew to know you, my attraction for you only grew, as inconvenient as it was, I couldn’t deny how I laughed and opened up like no other with you, how, once you left, my face hurt from smiling so much. You get me and you challenge me, and Allan, I would be the fool if I didn’t tell you that you’re the man for me. Allan Dane, you’re the man for me.”

We both grin in a painful face-wide smile. Allan kisses me again, the world stops, and I’m so happy, my lips and his—and nothing, ever—has felt so right, and I’m so happy that I could burst out laughing at nothing again.

“Oh damn.”

Allan’s looking at his phone.

“What is it?”

“It’s 11:00 p.m. already and I haven’t even told you.”

“Told me what?”

His face, which was unreadable before, grows excited.

“We’re launching the app at midnight.”

I jump up.

“What?”

Chuckling, Allan rises himself, puts the still-lit candle on the table, takes my hand.

“You heard me.”

I turn to him, scanning his face for signs of deceit but only find more evidence of his incredible happiness.

“You didn’t think that would be a good thing to maybe mention?”

He shrugs.

“Other things came up. Other things that seemed... pretty important.”

At his mischievous smile, there’s no doubt exactly what he’s talking about. Still, I give him a light bat on the arm.

“So what—we’re just going to sit here and grin about it?”

Allan gives me a light pat himself.

“On the contrary, you’re going to call Angel up and we’re going to go for another ride around town.”

“Oh yeah? And do I get to know why, this time?”

Allan gives me a light kiss on the cheek, then opens the door.

“You really hate surprises, don’t you?”

Squinting into the blinding restaurant light, I nod.

“Does that mean you’ll tell me?”

Allan bops my butt lightly, laughs.

“Nope.”

So, I call up Angel and invite her over.

No sooner have I put the phone down, however, than has she arrived, the whole restaurant filling with a frenzied knocking sound. Allan and I exchange a quizzical look, but I go to open the door regardless.

Standing in front of me, however, hunched over with drink, is not Angel, but Geno.

Seeing me, his frenzied face twists into a vicious smile.

“So, you’ve taken over my restaurant, stole it right from underneath me, eh? After all I’ve done for you, taught you...”

His laughing sounds something like choking, but he’s only gotten started. Staggering forward, hands extended, he sways his gaze about the room as he speaks.

“But not for long. I don’t care about your goddamn app and that goddamn Allan Dane. In fact, if I so much as see him, I’ll...”

Finally, Geno’s gaze flops on Allan. He freezes, his voice choking in his throat. Frozen in place, he sways back and forth, as Allan advances.

“You were saying, Geno?”

Silence.

“If you so much as see me, you’ll...”

At this, Geno turns around and takes off, half falling into the door in his haste to leave. By the time Allan and I make it to the door, Geno’s half a block away, cursing and moaning into the night.

Allan and I laugh, embrace, and that’s when Angel actually decides to show up.

“You just missed Geno.”

We recount what she just missed, and then Allan goes to the back to wake up Lisa. She comes into the room with a shy smile, then hugs me.

“I’m so glad you two worked things out. My brother deserves someone who makes him as happy as you do.”

No sooner have we all sat down to await the “surprise” Allan still assures me is coming, than the whole restaurant is filled with a honking sound. I cast Allan’s still-grinning face an incredulous look.

“You didn’t...”

He winks.

“I might’ve.”

We all rush outside to see that a limo has pulled up to the curb. Angel and I give each other an ecstatic hug, and then we go outside to the gleaming thing. Allan holds the door for all of us, taking care to help Lisa in, then clambers in himself. Then, shutting the door, he calls, “Go time” to the driver, and we’re zooming off, away from Picklebucket and into the glimmering city.

Allan presses a button and the sun roof opens up.

“You ladies go on out and enjoy the fresh air.”

To our stupefied faces, he gestures once more.

“Go on, stick your heads out—go on, I insist.”

Still, I can’t make out what this whole trip is for—if it’s just to celebrate our success, or if the furtive grin on Allan’s face is there for another reason.

As soon as my head’s out of the sunroof, into the cool night air, I get my answer. There, on an electronic billboard in front of me, is the all-too-familiar symbol: a smiling measuring pot being filled with foods and ingredients for my company, Delicieux. A billboard for my app.

As Angel whoops, I poke my head back down.

“You didn’t!”

Allan’s looking at me with his eyes alight. He hands me a glass of champagne, toasts his with it.

“I might’ve.”

And then, passing glasses of champagne to Angel and Lisa, Allan joins us, poking his head out of the sunroof, wrapping his arms around me. We all toast, laugh, whoop into the night. Allan wraps his arms around me, whispers into my ear.

“Keep your eye out, I have the driver taking us on a path around town to see a bunch of them, though we probably won’t even see half or a quarter of what I’ve purchased. These ads are going to run for the next month nonstop—all of New York is going to be inundated with your little app, Eva. You and Angel already have a waiting list of people who want to buy it, and now that it’s launched, I wouldn’t be surprised if it goes viral within the week. You’re going to have more business than you know what to do with.”

And so, the limo zips along New York city’s lit-up streets, all of them blurring into a luminescent paradise, everything dulled by the ads we spot every few minutes, the beacons of hope, of hard work paid off—Delicieux ad after Delicieux ad, spanning the roads as far as the eye can see.

I look over to my best friend Angel, my own happiness reflected on her teary-eyed beaming face, my new friend, Lisa, looking quietly happy herself, and behind me, Allan’s looking happier than I’ve ever seen him. And then I look back over the city, my New York City, metropolis of hopes and dreams, and, because this is already so much like a dream, Allan says the words that go with it, that make sense: “Eva, I want to meet this father of yours. This is definitely too soon and too much and over-the-top, but I love you, Eva Lynn, I do. I want to start talking about the future.”

And now the tears in my eyes are spilling over. I confirm what’s been beating in my heart since the moment I met him, and then we kiss, the whole city and every single atom in the universe smiling at us, and I know then, that everything, absolutely everything, is perfect and can’t get any better than this.