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But I told myself I would be strong, enjoy it, call it what it is, and move forward. That’s the one way we can do this thing.
Michelle studies me, the humor sucked out of the room.
“You’re sure you can’t tell him about Ava? What if it changes everything?”
“That’s just it,” I say. “Itwillchange everything. But not in a good way—how can it? It’s better this way, Mish. I’m just going to leave things as they are. We’ve all been doing just fine up until now.”
“Sure,” Michelle says, nodding. “You don’t need a man to define you; you’ve proven you’re more than capable of doing incredible things and be a single mother at the same time with a daughter who has everything she needs. But that doesn’t mean you don’twantsomeone in your life. And you deserve to be happy.”
“Iamhappy,” I say.
Michelle doesn’t look like she believes me. And a small part of me doesn’t believe the words I speak, either. But I squash that part because mulling over it is just going to make me miserable when changing it isn’t an option.
We all know what they say about crying over spilt milk.
“Okay, I’m headed out. Are you sure you’re just staying in?” I ask, picking up the black clutch I brought along in case I need to go somewhere fancy.
“Yeah, I’m exhausted,” Michelle says. “Besides, after how everything went this week, New York isn’t going to be rid of us for long. I’ll be back sooner rather than later.” She grins, and a thrill travels through me. She’s right—it’s starting to look a lot like we’re going to expand. And that means that we were more than successful doing this whole Fashion Week. Six months of long hours, working my fingers to the bone, and drawing every drop of creativity out of myself has paid off.
Consistency and hard work are the keys to success—I’ve proven that to myself over and over.
“Okay, I’ll see you at the airport tomorrow,” I say and hug Michelle.
“I can’t wait to get back and sleep in my own bed. I’ve forgotten what that feels like.”
We laugh, and I leave the hotel, with Michelle going back to her room.
Noah waits for me at the curb.
“Right on time,” he says with a smile when I step out of the hotel doors. “And you look fucking incredible.”
I blush. “You look great, too.”
He’s dressed in a black suit with a sky blue tie that matches his eyes, and I have to force myself not to stare. Everything about Noah is intoxicating, not just his looks.
He opens the car door for me—ever the gentleman—and when he’s behind the wheel, he drives us out of town.
“Where is this place?” I ask.
“It’s a little further out, but it’s amazing. Worth the drive.” I put my hand on his leg, and he covers it with his. We drive in warm silence, enjoying being together. I try not to think about tomorrow and that this is almost over.
The restaurant is incredible. We park, and the seating hostess leads us to the table Noah reserved. The restaurant is on a hill with large windows that overlooks a beautiful landscape.
Noah orders wine from the server, and I look out over the scenery. The sun is starting to set, and the world looks like it’s catching fire.
“This is incredible,” I breathe.
“I wanted you to see this before you go. I don’t come here nearly often enough.”
I glance at him.
“What’s next for you?” he asks.
“I’m not sure,” I admit. “The Fashion Week was a bigger success than I thought it would be. We’re crunching numbers once we get back home, and then we’ll see if we’ll open a branch here. It will be a big step if we do.”
“Does that mean you’ll be in New York more often?” he asks. “I know you said you won’t run it.”
“I might be here more often,” I say.
