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And wonder if there’s a path forward to a dream we can dream together.
sixteen
ELAINA
Eleven days later…
I bouncealong down the shaded path in Central Park beside Hunter, so excited I feel like I swallowed a bottle of jumping beans.
“So, yeah, long story long, I think this project has legsandpeople interested in funding it!” I squeal. “We’re meeting to go over my complete business plan and numbers next week, but so far,they’reexcited,I’mexcited, and I might be opening my very own New York City business sooner than I ever would have imagined!”
“That’s amazing. Go, killer.” Hunter holds a curled hand up for a fist bump, which I deliver with enthusiasm.
He’s come so far. From fist bump virgin to an instigator in his own right.
Be still my heart…
“I’m proud of you,” he adds. “It isn’t easy getting venture capital investors interested these days.” He arches a brow. “Especially as a woman. Only three percent of venture capital money goes to female-owned businesses, and having even onewoman on a company’s board decreases the odds of a project getting funded by fifty percent. Discrimination is a serious fucking problem in that industry.”
I shrug, playing it cool. “Yeah, I know. I guess I’m just a natural at the art of persuasion and an entrepreneurial genius, what can I say? Please, try not to be jealous.”
He laughs and swats my ass through my shorts. “I’ll try.”
I giggle as I add, “But for real, I couldn’t have done it without your help on the income projections. Or without Sydney pulling strings to get me into that young business owners’ pitch session at the last minute. I had a lot of help.”
“We all need help when we’re starting out,” he says. “If I hadn’t had connections from business school to vouch for me, I never would have progressed in my career as quickly as I did. As frustrating as it can be for a lone wolf personality, success in this city is as muchwhoyou know as what you know.”
“I’m glad you’re not a lone wolf anymore,” I say, slipping my hand into his.
His lips hook in that soft, half smile he only smiles for me. “Me, too.”
I beam up at my handsome, smart, supportive, secretly sweet-and-sensitive boyfriend, marveling again that this is my life.
I never imagined New York would start to feel like home so quickly. But it does, and it’s all because of him, this man I’m falling deeper in love with every day.
The man who’s falling in love with me…
Heisfalling for me. I can feel it in the way he kisses me on the forehead before he leaves for work, the way he texts to check in half a dozen times before noon, the way he keeps taking off early to come hustling home to me…
We still haven’t said the words. We’re both still whispering “I really like you” before we slip off to sleep, but we’re close.
So close, I didn’t hesitate to run giggling across the lobby and jump into his arms this afternoon when he texted to say he was back early to get the scoop on my pitch session, and that I should meet him downstairs, post-haste, to go get ice cream.
Alex rolled her eyes at us, and called for us to “Get a room, or you know, a penthouse, maybe?” but I could tell that she’s happy for us.
She told me in confidence yesterday that she’s never seen Mr. M this happy.
I’m not sureI’veever been this happy, either, a fact that shocks me a little considering I’m missing time with my friends and Captain Crunchypants like crazy. But Sydney and I are going to meet for coffee tomorrow—like everyone else I’ve lied to, she thinks I’m in New York for a pastry-baking intensive that’s left me little time to socialize—and Kira sends pictures of the Captain all the time. He seems to be fitting into the general population well, with a minimal amount of unwanted humping, so all in all, things are good.
Really, really good.
And only getting better…
“So,” I say, peeking at Hunter from the corners of my eyes as we wander past a playground filled with kids in bathing suits, splashing in the water features to stay cool in the summer heat. “How didyourmeeting go today? A little birdie told me you had a special visitor in your office while Dana met with a vendor downstairs in the coffee shop.”
He glances down at me, his eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t look mad. “I should have known.”
“Known what?” I ask, blinking innocently, though I am not innocent. Far from it, in fact. I’ve been scheming to get Hunter a little “exposure therapy” since he introduced me to his assistant, Dana—and her adorable toddler—when we ran into them at the deli last weekend.