Belle started her own interior design firm as soon as she graduated college. In fact, she already had clients lined up, thanks to outshining the full-time employees at her internships. And, luckily for me, she needed an assistant — AKA someone to run her life. Where she was great with the people, with the design, I was great with the numbers, with the organization, and together? We made the best team in Chicago.

She never crossed over — she hung her boss hat up in the office and wore her best friend hat, instead. But, regardless of if we were on the clock or not, Belle was just a boss kind of lady.

And she was adamant about this particular job.

By the time we finally hit the strip of bars we were aiming for, I was in desperate need of a drink, and for my best friend to drop the subject.

But she wasn’t done yet.

“Ugh, you haven’t said anything in like ten minutes,” she said, pulling me to a dead stop outside a bar packed with Chicagoans celebrating the Bears’ win. It was the last preseason game, and the entire city was alive with the hope of a promising season — especially in the south side by the stadium. While most Bears fans went back to their tailgating spots or made the commute back into the heart of the city after the games, I was beginning to prefer the rowdiness of the sports bars in the South Loop.

Honestly, I preferred almost anything other than going back to my empty condo.

When Carlo was alive, we would usually watch the games at home with a group of our neighbors. I would cook, he would entertain, and it was everything I’d ever dreamed of having when I was a young girl.

When I bought him the season tickets, I envisioned more for us — tailgating, building a community in the seats around us, starting traditions…

Belle sighed, and I blinked away Carlo’s memory.

“Look, I know I joke a lot,” Belle said, taking my shoulders in her hands. She lowered her gaze to mine, ensuring I was listening before she continued. “But I’m serious when I say that I love you and I know you’ve been through a lot in the past eight months.”

Her eyes softened, and I forced a swallow, warding off any emotions that might try to sneak in with her looking at me like that.

“I’m not saying you should date. Hell, if anyone is against love as much as you, it’s me. Hello,” she said, sweeping the back of her hand over her lean body. “Single for life and loving it, okay? But, just because I don’t date doesn’t mean I don’t go out, have fun, meet people.” She eyed me. “And get some.”

I just stared at her, still not convinced.

“You have these tickets, right?” she continued. “And you love the Bears.”

“Da Bears.”