Hi Franny, Just wanted to see if you’ll need to stop by the office anytime this week.

I hit SEND on the text before I could stop myself.

Her reply was immediate. No, I’m good! I’m waiting on the final greenery order for your main offices and lobby. She followed up with a completely benign thumbs-up emoji.

I popped my head back into Eleanor’s office. “Hey,” I said.

“Yeah?” She looked up from her computer.

“Do you want to grab lunch?” I asked. “It’s so nice out today. We could eat in the park.”

She tilted her head to study me. “You okay?”

“Of course. Why?” I crossed my arms, waiting impatiently for her answer.

“You”—she pointed a manicured finger at me—“never take lunch breaks.”

“What do you mean? I have lunch with Perrine, like, twice a month.”

Oh. That’s what she meant. She raised her palms at me. “See?”

“Okay, well, I’m going to eat my lunch outside today,” I said. “I might even take a full hour.”

“I’m impressed! And I’m in.” Eleanor smirked, clearly amused. “You can tell me all about your dinner with Serena. It sounds like from what she’s told Henry, she’s into you.”

My stomach dropped at the thought of dipping back into my feelings and figuring out how to navigate them. It had felt way easier to just focus on the launch party and the Seattle office plans than deciding what to do about ending things with Serena. Not because I was worried about breaking it off, but because once I did, I’d have to deal with my feelings for Franny.

*  *  *

The steps of the natural history museum were lit up like a beacon, photographers hollering at the top of their lungs at people I didn’t know to turn this way and move that way. I checked in with the press person managing the guest list, who shouted something into a headset. Minutes later, Serena was gliding toward me, in an eye-poppingly low-cut red dress, her hair sleek and long in a ponytail down her back.

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to be more handsome, but here you are in a tux,” she said, linking her hands with mine and leaning in for a kiss on the cheek.

“You look stunning,” I said into her ear. It was the absolute truth. It wasn’t just the dress; Serena was magnetic.

The red carpet was louder than I’d expected. Brighter too. The click of the cameras and the furiously shouted demands of the photographers created an overwhelming cacophony of noise. “This way, please, Serena!”

And then it was done, and Serena led me into the museum. But instead of following the flow of people to the Hall of Ocean Life, she pulled me aside, into the shadows of a giant marble pillar.