“I think you should be careful.” She reached out and touched my wrist. “But only because I can see that you’re really confused and torn about your feelings for him. And I know how lonely he’s been. It’s easy to sense the chemistry between you two, and I just feel like it would be really hard to toe the just-friends line if you had to spend all kinds of time alone together.”

“It would be,” I admitted.

“I know I encouraged you the other night to get to know him, and if I’m honest, I’d sort of hoped something might develop over time, but I didn’t think it would happen so fast.” She smiled. “I thought maybe you’d be more like Meg and Noah—what did it take them, fifteen years?”

I laughed a little. “Yeah, it definitely makes sense to be just friends first.”

“And I’m not saying that you shouldn’t learn everything you can from him—he’s brilliant at what he does, and I’m sure he’d be a great teacher. But training under Chloe would probably be safer.” She shrugged. “Maybe let a little time go by before spending time alone with Henry? A couple weeks? Let the flames die down a bit?”

“It was just a kiss,” I said defensively. “There weren’t exactly flames.”

She tossed me a knowing look. “You don’t grab a guy’s ass while he’s kissing you if you don’t want to know what kind of heat he’s packing, that’s all I’m saying.”

Now she had me laughing again. “There was some serious heat,” I confessed.

“See?” She clucked her tongue. “Damn that old clock.”

“It was probably a sign,” I said with a sigh. “It was Grandma Sawyer telling me our timing is all wrong.”

“Listen, if Grandma Sawyer can send us messages about our love lives from beyond the grave, I’m taking that clock home and asking it some questions.”

“Like what?” Curious, I took a sip of wine. It reminded me of the riesling Henry and I had tasted the other night, and set butterflies loose in my belly.

“Like where is my soul mate and why is he avoiding me?”

“April, you’re not even looking for your soul mate. You spend all your time at work—you’re as bad as Henry.”

“I know.” She looked into her wine. “But I’m going to make some changes in the new year. I promised myself.”

“Me too.” I put a hand on her leg. “We can promise each other and keep ourselves accountable.”

She nodded, her expression going surprisingly serious. After a moment, she said, “It’ll be eighteen years soon.”

I was shocked. April never brought up her past. “I know,” I said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “No.”