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“Yeah?” He didn’t say it back, which left Phoebe feeling off-balance.

“You know you were one of my best friends.”

Jonathan waited a beat, watching her closely. “Yep. I know.”

Phoebe let out her breath. This conversation was not going to lead anywhere fun. She took a gulp of wine.

“I’m serious about the business,” she said. “In case you weren’t sure.”

He visibly relaxed at the change of subject, leaning back into the couch cushions. “I am, too, actually. It’s the perfect time for me to try something new like this.”

“Yes! It’s like this was meant to be.”

“Like we found each other at a Christmas market in the middle of Florida because…” Jonathan trailed off.

“Because it was the perfect time in our careers?” Phoebe chuckled lightly.

“Stranger things have happened.”

Phoebe felt her cheeks heat up as his gaze lingered on her a little too long. She snapped her attention back to her notebook. “Why don’t you write the overview of services, and I’ll get started on the goals section.”

Jonathan nodded and accepted the pen and paper from her wordlessly.

When they next paused—Phoebe to use the bathroom and Jonathan to refill their wineglasses—nearly an hour had gone by. It was almost ten o’clock. Phoebe noticed her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she washed her hands. Her face was flushed, her mouth rosy from the wine. What are we doing? she asked herself silently.

Back in the living room, she proposed that they take a break.

“How long are you in town for?” she asked him. “I’m here for a week.”

“I fly home on the thirtieth.”

“Plenty of time, then.”

“Oh yeah? Are we going to finish our business plan in a week?”

“Why not?”

“Sure.” Jonathan shrugged. “It’s a good goal.”

“What else are you doing while you’re here?”

“Just spending time with my folks. Some aunts and uncles in town, too. And there’s usually a gathering of old school friends at some point after Christmas.”

Phoebe half expected him to invite her to said gathering. But of course, she didn’t know his childhood friends. And was she even a friend of his anymore? Not really, if she thought about it. It had been so long. It didn’t matter how close they had once been, considering that they hadn’t talked for nearly a decade. And now, here he was, sitting a few feet away from her, his sock-clad feet propped casually on the coffee table, his familiar features lit by the gentle glow of the Christmas tree.

Phoebe shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re here.” The words came out softer, more serious, than she’d intended.

He simply looked back at her, his expression open and quizzical yet revealing nothing about what he was thinking.

“I feel like I want to catch up on everything you’ve been up to since college,” Phoebe said.

“You do?” His eyes narrowed, as though he were puzzled by this or thought she might be joking. “Why?”

“What do you mean why?” She leaned forward and put a hand on his knee. “Jonathan! Do you know how much I’ve thought about you? Wondering what you were up to? Wondering what you thought about this movie or that book? Wishing you would call me to discuss the final season of Severance or give me a book recommendation, like those quietly funny books about an old man living alone or whatever you used to read?”

“You’re thinking of A Man Called Ove. Or maybe A Gentleman in Moscow.”

“I loved both of those! Since you left, my life has had a dearth of funny old men.”