Page 56 of Hearts Like Hers

Kate nodded. “My captain had the samerecommendation. I don’t think I’m up for talking to some doctor.”

“Then maybe just someone you trust?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Only one person’s name came tomind. Everything lately seemed to bring her back to the same place. The sameperson. Autumn. The image of her smiling on their beach picnic flooded her withwarmth, and something loosened. Maybe Isabel was onto something after all.“What are you working on?”

Isabel lifted the laptop next to her. “Secondto last episode of the season is mine. Our ex-assassin has to figure out how toshuttle six second-graders to ballet, take down a serial killer before he canhurt anyone else, and figure out how to get the woman next door to notice her.”

Kate raised her eyebrows. “My kind of show.”

“Mine, too. I’m lucky to write for it,”Isabel said. “Hey, can I ask one last question?”

“Shoot.”

“I heard you mention adoption. Are youthinking you might take those kids?”

“No. It’s not even something I wouldconsider. I can’t be someone’s parent. I live alone and eat frozen pizza. Sothat would be outrageous. I mean, it would be, right?”

Isabel smiled and offered a one-shoulderedshrug. “You tell me.”

* * *

Autumn’s small house in West Hollywood wasn’tmuch, but it had character. She’d taken her own flair for funky design and madethe intimate space come alive. At least for her. She wondered now what someonemore conservative like Kate would think of her bright purple and greencurtains.

They’d made plans to see a movie at the indietheater down the street, and Kate was scheduled to arrive shortly. Would thevintage Italian movie posters throw her? Or the dark gray walls and restoredwiry chandelier that hung over the recovered sectional? She ran her bare footacross the furry grape rug beneath the coffee table, which itself looked likeseveral planks of wood, one rotating on top of the next. When she’d bought it,she knew the coffee table would be the cornerstone piece to her home. Shehadn’t been wrong. Friends commented on it constantly.

Still. Looking at it through neweyes—Kate’s—had her aware of her own unique style.

Three short, sharp knocks on the door killedthe thought. She glanced at the clock with Tweety Bird in the center pointingat the time and took note that Kate was early. This was no surprise. She wasKate, the epitome of precision and confidence. She was probably early everywhereshe went and super calm about it.Nobig deal. I’m just early and looking hot on your doorstep. Autumnshook herself out of the daydream, swung open the door, and grinned that it hadbecome her real life. “Welcome to my place.”

“Hey,” Kate said, smiling back at her. Sheproduced a bottle from behind her back. “I brought you wine. I feel like it’swhat you do when you come to someone’s house.”

“Not necessary, but thank you. You’re verythoughtful. Come in. I’ll give you the tour while we have a glass before themovie.” As Kate walked past her into her home, Autumn realized there wassomething different about her tonight. Her dark hair was pulled back, but onlypartially this time, leaving the sides to fall along her face, past hershoulders. It added a whole new softness that had Autumn off guard and, okay,let’s be honest: salivating a little. Kate was just as beautiful as ever. Toughand soft at the same time.

“Look at this place,” Kate said, as she tookin the room.

“Is that a ‘look how crazy this place is.What is Autumn thinking?’ Or ‘look how awesome—Autumn is a freakin’ genius’?’Cuz that could go a lot of ways.”

“Look howyouit is,” Kate said, moving toward her. “I love it. My place back homehas a few white walls, a couch, and a bed.”

“I have a feeling you prevaricate.”

“Can’t prevaricate. Don’t know what that is.”But she smiled, and Autumn knew it was her own brand of humor.

Autumn handed Kate a glass of the Malbecshe’d brought. “And how was your day?” They hadn’t seen each other since the daybefore. Kate had stopped in for coffee earlier, but Autumn had been meetingwith a vendor and they hadn’t connected. “Different. I talked to the socialworker back home.”

“About the kids?”

Kate nodded. “Still no home for them. It wasstrange. For a minute, the social worker thought I was volunteering to adoptthem.”

“Huh,” Autumn said, sipping from her glass.The look on Kate’s face, the thoughtful eyes, the drawn-in brows had Autumnwondering if there was something to this. Kate, after all, had a big heart. Thethought made her spirits dip, and she hated herself for how selfish that madeher. “Is that something you’re considering?”

Kate shook her head. “I’m the last person whoshould take them. I don’t know anything about kids, plus my head’s a mess.”

Autumn nodded. “That’s fair.” She waited amoment before deciding to press further. As much as she didn’t want to giveKate a reason to head home, she understood that she would be leaving. One daysoon even, and maybe this was something Kate needed to talk through withsomeone. She could help with that. “Doesn’t mean you couldn’t learn, you know.”

“Such a huge responsibility,” Kate said,shaking her head emphatically. She walked toward a painting of a woman pullingon a pair of stockings and stared. With her back to Autumn, it was hard for herto tell what Kate was thinking, what she was feeling. She knew, regardless,that it must be a lot for her to bring the topic up to begin with. “I mean,there’s school, and friends, and things like bath time.”

Autumn walked to her. “You wouldn’t have todo all those things at once. That’d be weird.”Please don’t leave.

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