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Hadley squinted. “You think? I already packed the red plaid. Idon’t want to be known as the girl with all the plaid once I’m in Paris.”

“There can never be too many plaid coats,” Autumn said,emphatically. “What are you even thinking right now?”

“I know. I know. You’re right. Toss it in the suitcase.”

Autumn did as Hadley asked, using her super-specific, space-savingpacking technique that involved rolling the clothes into tinyclothing-burritos. She straightened with a hand on her hip. “We’re running outof space.”

Hadley waved her off. “It’s just a preliminary trip. If things gowell, I’ll hire a company and send for the rest. I don’t need it all in onego-round. Have to see what she says first, right?”

“Yeah, but she asked you to go with her.”

“True. But it’s been a while since then. We haven’t communicated.I don’t know where her head’s at.”

Autumn sighed. She took a seat on the bed and ran her hand acrossthe suitcase fondly. “What am I going to do without my Hadley if you move toParis?”

It felt like a gut punch, because what would she do without herAutumn? She joined Autumn on the bed and snagged her hand. “We’re gonnaFaceTime like crazy, for one.”

Autumn laughed through her melancholy. “We are. Thank God fortechnology.”

“And I’ll be back for the important holidays. Gotta get my Pajamasfix somehow, right?”

“I don’t know how you’ll survive each morning without it. Well,except for all of those amazing Parisian cafés. They know how to roast a goodcup there. You heard it here.”

“Nothing will hold a candle to Pajamas coffee, you hear me?”

“Bless you for saying that.” Autumn gave her hand a squeeze. “Andnow I should probably check on Kate and the twins. She might have them runningdrills by now. Will’s obsessed with her turnout gear’s suspenders.”

Hadley laughed. “Well, who isn’t? Thank you for the help. I’llstop by later to say, you know…goodbye.” She said that last word delicately andwith less volume. It was a hard one. Her flight was far too early the nextmorning to disrupt any of her friends. She’d see them each that evening for abrief farewell. Nothing too drawn out. She wasn’t sure she could take it. Plus,it wasn’t goodbye forever. Just for right now.

“I’ll be around,” Autumn said quietly.

She let herself out and Hadley got back to the last of herpacking. It wasn’t long before there was a knock at her door. She expectedAutumn, who’d likely forgotten something, but found Larry Herman staring at herin shock from her doorstep.

“Hi, Larry,” she said, smiling up at him.

“Is it true?” he asked, solemnly. He wore his traditional brownpants, blue shirt, and striped tie. “You’re leaving?” The guy looked like akicked puppy. She deflated. She hated seeing him so dejected.

“It’s true. I’m heading to Paris tomorrow. I’m not sure if I’ll beback. Don’t worry about the rest of my lease. If I can’t sublet, I’ll pay itout.”

He studied his shoe. “She’s that important to you. Ms. Adair?”

“She is.”

The admission seemed to make him shrink further behind his tie.“What is it about her that you like so vehemently?” he asked.

And there they were. Hadley had known for some time that Larry hadcertain feelings for her. She’d hoped they were superficial, but maybe it wastime to be a little more straightforward with him, for his own sake. She took adeep breath. “I’m in love with her.”

“Oh.” A long pause. “Love.”

“You’ve always been a good friend to me, Larry, and I value ourfriendship, but I’m afraid that’s all we can have.”

He raised his gaze to hers. “I understand that. Just…do me afavor. Be happy, okay?”

“Thanks, Larry. I’m trying.”

“She doesn’t know how lucky she is,” he said, and turned to go,head hung low.

“Larry, wait. How about a hug goodbye?”