Jane could do with a glass of bubbly. She tried to catch Mia’s or Kristin’s eye but neither one of them still held a bottle in their hands. Perhaps they’d run out. It was getting late even though the queue in front of the table where Caitlin and Jo sat signing was still long.

“I think I’ll get this signed another time.” Lou sidled up to Jane. “Perks of sleeping with the party organizer.”

Jane smiled at Lou. “Looks like we won’t be closing any time soon.”

“Not tonight, and not ever. This shop will be here on King Street forever.”

Jane wondered whether Lou had perhaps partaken of one too many glasses of sparkling wine.

“Who knows?” Jane replied. She thought about how the shop might not last in physical form, but it would, in some way, remain forever open in the new book she had started a few days ago.

She wasn’t the type to share thoughts like these with someone else—not even with Lou, with whom she’d always shared a sort of kinship because of their similarities in personality—but the mere thought of the couple of pages she had managed to write filled her with hope. As did glancing around this shop, which surely didn’t look as though it would be going out of business any time soon.

“You and Mia should come to dinner next week,” Jane said.

“We would love to. Mia is very fond of you, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“As I am of her.” Jane broke out into a smile. Maybe she was capable of drama-free friendships. Maybe soon they would have dinner parties with Kristin and Sheryl again. And all the others present here tonight. Lou’s boss Amber and her partner Martha. Amber’s best friend Micky and her hot American girlfriend Robin. Maybe, on a Monday when the shop was closed, she and Annie could venture out to Darlinghurst and get to know these women better. Because, just maybe, Jane had underrated friendship all these years. Or had become too afraid of it. But it was her friendship with Mia that had sparked the idea for her new book. Who knew how many more ideas lay out there waiting for her—in the real world.

“I can hardly blame your wife for having a crush on mine,” Sheryl said to Jane, an earnest glint in her eye, “but it must have been hard on you.”

It seemed to Jane that the only person having a hard time letting this go was Sheryl. The shop was closed, most of the mess had been cleaned up, and Jane was flattening the cardboard boxes the many books they had sold tonight had come in.

Kristin had magically produced one remaining bottle of wine and she, Caitlin, Jo, Mia, Lou, and Annie had carefully divided it among themselves and sat toasting to a successful evening.