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The girl’s name is Jessica. As weird as it sounds—okay, as weird as it absolutely is—she actually named her child after me.

“It hasn’t been all bad,” she says. “You remember Paolo, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, extending my hand and shaking his. “It’s good to see you again, Paolo.”

After Eric and Linda hooked up that day years ago, Paolo came back into her life and Linda, now Mrs. Navas, never looked back.

“I’m surprised Eric didn’t show up,” Linda says. “He had a pretty big part in turning things around here, too.”

“That’s just the way it goes,” I tell her and I give her a hug.

“Do you know if he’s still planning on picking up Jessica tonight? Paolo’s going to have the car, so I wouldn’t be able to drop her off until later,” she says.

“I don’t know,” I answer. “Have you tried calling him?”

I’m running late, but there’s someone else with whom I really want to have a quick word before I have to go and leave this store behind me.

“Alec,” I say, giving quite possibly the laziest man I’ve ever met a big hug. “Thank you for everything,” I tell him. “I never thought you’d get Burbank to agree to sit down, much less actually talk him into renegotiating such a good deal for us. Thank you for that.”

“What can I say?” he asks. “I could charm a nun out of her habit.”

“Yeah, you still kind of creep me out,” I tell him.

I go to hug Irene, but by the way she’s putting her hand over her mouth, I reconsider applying any pressure to her upper body. I really like these shoes.

My mom and dad are already walking back to their car and, as everyone disperses, I can’t help but feel gratitude for the fact that my crotchety mother is still around to irritate the shit out of me.

I say my goodbyes to everyone that’s still around and, inside of ten minutes, I’m in my car, driving.

This isn’t how I expected my life to turn out, but all things considered, I think I’ve been pretty fortunate.

When I get to the new location—or as I like to call it, Lady Bits 2.0—I’m filled with a sense of pride.

Things really turned around after I promoted Cheryl and once the word spread, things just kept getting bigger and bigger until that little store wasn’t big enough to hold it all.

The new store opens in a few days, but before that happens, there are a few things that I need to take care of.

After all this time, the person I have to thank most wasn’t there to see me close down my first store.

Eric, despite the sharp turn our relationship took while still in its infancy, did more to turn things around for me than anyone. He gave me the courage to sit back and accept help and, despite the fact that I still think the plus section would have looked better indented a little further into the ground, the work he did inside the store and outside of it really took things to a place I didn’t think they could go.

It’s a shame he couldn’t make it to the closing today.

That being said, he’s got a lot of work to do.

I walk into the nearly complete building and, even though I’ve been through these doors dozens of times now, I’m still taken aback by the size and the brilliance of the new store.

José almost runs over me as he’s helping one of his guys move a large display stand.

“Have you seen Eric?” I ask.

José still never says more than a few words at a time to me. I think he’s still holding onto some lingering fear that I’m going to have him fired for breaking into my first store.

“He’s in the back,” José says and keeps going, telling his worker to speed it up, that they haven’t got all day.

So, I make my way to the back of the new store, dodging Ian as he tosses what I can only hope is a shelled pistachio nut over twenty feet into an electrician’s mouth.

“Is Eric back here?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Ian answers and then dodges to the left with his mouth wide open, but misses the poorly thrown return volley. “Last I saw, he was back near swimwear.”

“Thanks,” I tell him and quickly move out of the way so the two can continue cluttering up the floor of my otherwise pristine new building.

Eric is crouched down, making sure that a small platform is level.

“Hey, could I talk to you a minute?” I ask.

He turns around and stands, brushing his mid-length hair away from his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. “Just give me a minute to finish checking this. I don’t know if it’s my level or what, but this section right here is off-center.”

“It can wait,” I tell him. “Come with me, please.”

He leaves the level behind and follows me back to what will be my office when the new store finally opens.

“How are we doing on cost?” I ask.

“Well, your last-minute changes have driven things up a bit, but I don’t think we’re going to end up too far above what we’d originally talked about,” he answers.

“Will you close the door?” I ask.

“Sure,” he says and kicks the door closed.

Before the door is latched, our arms are around each other and I’m pressing into his firm chest, kissing him deeply on the lips.

When I pull away, he’s smiling.

“How did it go closing up over there?” he asks.

“Not too bad,” I tell him. “It was a bit rough saying goodbye to the old place, but with all the volume we’re moving, it just wasn’t going to work keeping it open.”

“You know,” he says, “if you weren’t such a major control freak, you could have left the other store open and just let someone else run it.”

“Oh, shut up,” I scoff and hit him playfully on the chest.

“What did you want to talk to me about, boss?”

“You know,” I tell him, “we’re getting married tomorrow. I really think you can start calling me by my name from now on.”

“Eh,” he shrugs, “while we’re at work, you’re the boss and don’t pretend like that doesn’t turn you on a little.”

He’s right about that.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks.

“Well,” I start, “first off, Linda wanted to know if you’re going to be able to pick up Jessica tonight.”

“Yeah,” he says. “She just called. I told her I’d swing by just as soon as I’m off work. I was thinking we could take her to the park tonight.”

“Cool,” I say. “Now, I know we’re running out of time and everything, but I’ve been looking at pictures of some of the more modern clothing stores, and there are a few things I’d like to implement before the paint is dry. I know the schedule is tight, but I really think we can get this done and it’s going to look so much better.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groans.

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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 Claire Adams