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I run my finger down the side of the frame, not sure what to do. Pops is sick. He’ll be gone soon and I’ll have no one. I thought I was all alone in the world when I lost them, but it’ll be true this time. I won’t do too well with losinghim.

Andthen there’s his crazy plan to make up for lost time and thrust me into the deep end of the proverbial swimming pool oflife.

It’s near impossible to wrap my head around the idea that Pops wants me to get married within less than six months. It’s fucking ridiculous. Crazier than his belief that I can take over Steele Industries within that time. Someone needs to make him understand thatmy settling down and running the company are no guarantee of happiness or a solution to beingalone.

But his words about Isabelle keep running through mymind.

I can’t deny that our bumping into each other and that one-night stand have shifted things between us. I was convinced there was nothing left. No friendship, no closeness, no connection, nointerest.

But I waswrong.

For one, the bond Isabelle and I formed all those years ago stood the test of time. And this budding attraction, it’s hot like fire, fierce and fuckingundeniable.

I carefully place the framed photo back into the drawer and force my eyes closed. Who knows. Maybe we crossed paths last week and tonight for a reason. As my mind slowly drifts off, an outlandish ideaforms.

Isabelleand me. Maybe she showed up at exactly the righttime.