Page 104 of Julian

“We met with candidates from major beauty houses, luxury retail brands, and established corporate firms,” she continues. “But after reviewing everyone… honestly, Harper, it wasn’t even close.” I stop breathing for a second. “You have exactly the combination of instincts, consumer understanding, creativity and leadership we’re looking for.”

What is she saying right now? Me?

“The team was unanimous,” she says. “We would love to formally offer you the position of chief of staff to our Chief Marketing Officer for Penny Aura.”

Everything blurs. The Monets, Dylan, everything.

“I…” My throat tightens. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

Stephanie laughs. “We’re offering you the job, Harper.”

Emotion hits me so fast and hard I press my free hand against my mouth.

Beside me, Dylan’s eyes widen.

“What?” he mouths.

I can’t answer him yet because suddenly I’m fighting tears in the middle of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Stephanie continues talking—salary figures and onboarding timelines and benefits packages—but most of it barely registers because my mind keeps flashing backward through every version of myself that led here.

The customer service cubicle. The late-night driving shifts. Endless piles of bills. Fear consuming my daily routine. The stress of constantly surviving instead of living.

“I would absolutely love to accept,” I say finally, my voice shaking despite my best efforts.

“Wonderful. We’re very excited to have you.”

She gives me a few instructions on my start date, which I try to commit to memory, and I thank her profusely before the call ends.

“Harper.”

I turn.

Dylan is already grinning.

“You got it,” he says. “You got the role! Holy, holy smokes! I can’t believe it! I mean, I can believe it, you deserved it but, wow!”

A laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it, hysterical and joyous all at once.

“Oh my God,” I breathe.

Dylan lunges forward and wraps his arms around me right there in the middle of the Monet exhibit.

“You got it!” he says again, laughing now too.

“I got it,” I whisper, still barely able to believe it myself.

“Okay, we are celebrating. And I know just where we need to go!”

And so do I because in New York in January, there’s only one proper way to celebrate something magical.

So less than an hour later, Dylan and I are standing beneath the lights of Wollman Rink in Central Park, lacing up rented skates. It’s where we celebrated our first Christmas Day together and a place we reserve for the most monumental victories.

Music drifts softly across the rink while skaters circle beneath strings of white lights. The large skyscrapers surrounding the park with their windows lit up make it seem right out of a movie.

I cradle a paper cup of hot chocolate between my gloved hands while Dylan tightens his skates beside me.

“This,” he says, “was definitely the correct post-job-offer decision.”