“I got your email,” she said as soon as Brandon answered.

“Oh, great!” Teeth, teeth, teeth. It was all Jess could imagine. “Sounds like the date went well?”

She chewed on her lip. It had gone well. Better than expected. River wasn’t supposed to be funny, and he definitely wasn’t supposed to charm her kid. And yet. “Yeah, it was fine.”

“Does the timing for the interview work? I know tomorrow’s short notice.”

“It’s less a timing issue,” Jess admitted, “than a bravery one.”

“You?” He laughed generously. “You’re adorable. Stop it.”

“I am very much not used to press.” Quickly Jess added, “I know it’s what I signed up for, but I was sort of hoping to start small with dinners, then maybe a couple tweets no one notices, a small blog interview about online dating, and eventually working our way up to the Trib.”

“Michelle is doing the piece and she’s a love,” Brandon assured her. “She’s going to adore you. She and River go way back.”

Jess wanted to ask whether that was code for banging, but would not ask that.

Brandon read through her silence: “She did a piece on him several years ago. That’s all.”

“Mm-hmm. So, tomorrow,” she said, biting her lip. “Tomorrow at noon, Shelter Island.” Jess paused and a clammy chill worked its way up her neck. “Why Shelter Island?”

“Perfect for photos.” He confirmed her fears, and she nearly swallowed her tongue. She’d already turned her closet upside down for the dinner date, and a chambray shirt and jeans was the best she could come up with. This was exactly the sort of thing she’d been dreading.

“I have to go shopping.”

“Jessica, honestly, whatever you’re wearing is fine.”

“Brandon. You wouldn’t say that if you could see me right now.”

He laughed. “I just mean you’ll be fine regardless.”

Would she? She looked down at her threadbare light gray T-shirt and charcoal-gray sweats. She, honestly, could not stand next to River “GQ” Peña in front of the San Diego Bay in anything that was currently in her closet.

On the other hand, at the end of the day, a soulmate loved you for what was on the inside, right?

OF ALL THE beautiful places in San Diego—and there were indeed many—few were as spectacular as Shelter Island. If she took Harbor to Scott, hung a left at Shelter Island Drive and then another left at the circle, a long parking lot overlooked one of the best views in the city: a full vista of the San Diego Bay with the downtown skyline in perfect, crystalline glory. Coronado was visible in the distance. At night, the view was so breathtaking it felt like stepping inside a postcard.

Even during the day—especially after a morning shower that had left the sky bright and clear—it was so beautiful that Jess paused for a second once she climbed out of her car, staring at a side of downtown San Diego she should appreciate more. The buildings looked like sleek, glossy swords in the distance. Big, puffy cotton-ball clouds dotted the sky, and sailboats bobbed on the surface of the bay. Add to that the sight of River, in dark trousers, a long camel coat over a navy sweater, hair blowing in the wind like something out of an Austen movie. Would it be weird if she stood here and just… stared at him? Took a photo or two? Nobody would blame her.