Nellie turned her wine glass in both hands. She’d spent approximately two hours this afternoon doing low-level mental rehearsal for this conversation, and in every version of it, the disclosure had come out with considerably more preamble andstrategic framing. In the version she’d planned, she’d opened with a thorough context-setting overview of how everything had unfolded—the storm, the power cut, the knock on the door—before arriving, gently, at the part that was going to give Paloma palpitations.
Instead, she blurted out, “I slept with Sawyer.”
If Paloma’s eyes had bugged out any further, they would have plopped onto the table.
“Sawyer Alburn?”
“I am not aware of any other Sawyers in the vicinity.”
“Nellie.” Paloma pinched the bridge of her nose. “You mean to tell me you hadsexwiththeSawyer Alburn—the billionaire? Who owns several skyscrapers in Phoenix Ridge? Who owns the cloud-sharing tech that pretty much every office in the country uses, including mine? Who owns this forest?”
“I suppose she does own a lot of stuff. What’s your point?”
“Abillionaire!” Paloma pressed both palms flat on the table as though stabilizing it against an oncoming impact. “You got naked with thebillionaire CEOwho is trying to bulldoze this ancient forest you love so she can build a fucking data center!”
“Well, it’s—it’s more complicated than that. I think I’ve been getting through to her, she’s actually been?—”
“Oh no.” Paloma pointed at her best friend, birthday or no birthday. “Do not tell me she’s beendifferent lately. Do not tell me she’s beencoming around. I need you to hear yourself right now, Nellie Fuller.”
Nellie chewed on her lip.
“She drove out here in the storm,” she mumbled weakly. “To check on me. And she’s been really accommodating with my investigation. And Gina’s the one who?—”
“I know about Gina. Gina being awful doesn’t make Sawyer a hero.” Paloma sighed into her wine glass and took a long swallow. “I’m not saying she’s evil. I’m saying she’s the CEO ofa company with millions of dollars tied up in a building project that you are the main obstacle to. I’m saying that areallysmart CEO would understand that you having feelings for her is very useful right now.”
“Pal.”
“I’m saying it because I love you.”
“I know you are.” Nellie did know. That was, unfortunately, the irritating part. “And you’re not wrong that it’s complicated. I just— She’s not running a play, Pal. I know what that looks like, and this isn’t it.”
“Maybe.” Paloma turned her glass slowly. “But even if everything you feel is real, and everything she feels is real, you’re still two people who want completely different things. Who see the world in completely different ways. Feelings don’t resolve that. You can’t assume that she’s going to become an eco-warrior just because you’re sleeping together. That’s not how it works.”
Nellie knew that too. That wasalso, unfortunately, the irritating part.
“I guess you have a point there,” Nellie muttered.
“Chica.” Paloma leaned forward. “Let’s talk about something else. Billionaires and bulldozers will still be an issue tomorrow. It’s yourbirthday. You’re supposed to be happy!”
“Iamhappy.”
“You look like you’re questioning all your life choices.”
“Doesn’t everyone question their life choices on their birthday?” Nellie snorted into her wine glass, taking a large gulp and reaching for the bottle.
“Only when they’re hella drunk and nervous about the hangover! But I can think of one choice you definitely never regret. Cake.” Paloma stood up, went to the bakery box, and opened it with ceremony. Inside sat a chocolate cake with dark ganache frosting and presumably (Nellie didn’t count them) thirty-five candles arranged in a ring. “You can be all glum andreflective in January, like the rest of us. Tonight you eat cake and you drink wine and you tell me all about your salamanders.”
“They’re notmysalamanders.”
“They are absolutely your salamanders, and you love them.” Paloma was already rooting through the kitchen drawer again for a lighter.
Nellie watched her and felt a warm sensation in her chest, that feeling of being hugged from the inside that only Paloma could produce. Ten years of showing up for every chaotic chapter, not because the chapters were easy but because she didn’t believe in choosing convenient times to be a best friend.
The old, mostly empty lighter ignited on the third attempt. The candles went up in bright, flickering flames that made the kitchen smell like a birthday. Paloma carried the cake to the table like a reverent priestess bearing an offering, set it in front of Nellie, and stood back to admire her handiwork.
“Make a wish,” she chirped.
Nellie looked at the flames. Thirty-five of them, which was, all things considered, not an inconsequential number of birthday candles to blow out in a single breath at the end of a day that had involved four hours on a creek transect and an arguably ill-advised amount of emotional turmoil. She thought about what she wanted. The list assembled itself without much prompting and was, predictably, topped by something she had absolutely no right to put in front of the universe yet.
