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Esme’s mouth was hanging open. “Oh, I… I can’t afford to expand and do a full overhaul at that level—I was going to DIY the new spaces.”

“That’s where we come in,” Matt volunteered. “We want to invest in the Lounge, Esme.”

It was gratifying to see Esme’s face in that moment, the blend of hope and shock. “Matty, no, I can’t…”

“Dad would want it if he were still here.” Matt pushed off of the wall and came to lean on the staircase railing. He stared up at Esme, his face earnest. “He believed in you. We’re going to carry on that legacy.”

“With one catch.” Oliver strolled up, hands in his jeans pockets and a grin on his face. “We want to dedicate Dad’s usual bar stool and spot at the bar to him. Get some plaques and everything to commemorate the way he came in here once a week to order one dirty gin martini and a basket of fries. The whole nine.”

Tears had begun to stream down Esme’s face. Nora reached for her hand and squeezed it in support. “How’s that sound to you, Esme? Can you make that deal?”

“I can,” Esme gasped between sobs. “I can. Oh, Matty, Ollie…”

A gorgeous, statuesque black woman bustled up, determination in her golden eyes. “I’m in, too, Esme. I wouldn’t have met Mia if it weren’t for this place.” She cast a brilliant smile back at her girlfriend, who was watching her with hearts in her big brown eyes. “She wouldn’t have her career if it weren’t for you. We want to help give the next generation of iconic queer women artists their big chance.”

“Harper,” Esme squeaked out, but fell silent as the woman waved a graceful hand.

“Deb’ll want to get involved, too,” Harper said. “You know she’s been wanting to do a documentary on this place for years? What a story you have to tell, and WebFlix is an amazing platform for it. More people will know about the incredible, inclusive sapphic space you’ve built here.”

“Wait,” Nora interjected. “Deb Morgan?” She’d thought she’d seen someone who resembled the CEO of one of the world’s biggest streaming services here a few weeks ago during that first non-starter of a meeting she’d had with Esme. But she had dismissed it as preposterous. Apparently, she’d been wrong. Nora shook her head in wonder.

And in admiration. Esme had clearly had no idea of the complete force of her impact on the sapphic community of Los Angeles, on the Fairchild brothers, on some of the most powerful women in the entertainment industry—Nora now realized that “Harper” was record-company owner and hotshot producer Harper Nightingale—but it was becoming more obvious by the second that she was bigger than she’d ever known.

Nora was so glad she’d been able to pull herself away from the edge of one of the biggest mistakes of her life and career.

Everyone swarmed Esme and began talking all at once, excitement and joy bubbling up and filling the air. Nora got hustled out of the way and found herself standing by the one person who didn’t seem carried away with happiness: the Lounge chef.

“So what’s this? Some new angle for you to fuck us over? And hurt Esme?” The woman’s arms were crossed firmly over her chest, and her stubborn chin was lifted in the air.

“No. No angles. This is...” Nora hesitated. “Sorry. I don’t know your name?”

“Sasha.”

“Sasha.” Nora nodded. “No, this is all real, Sasha. I’m buying this building, and I’m going to help Esme keep the Lounge in it.” She paused to collect her thoughts. “You don’t have to believe me or trust me. But I hope you’ll stay on even if you don’t like me. I meant it when I said we’d get you that big, new kitchen.”

“I can’t be bought,” Sasha scoffed.

“Wouldn’t dream of trying. Just making sure you’re fully informed.” She smiled. “Please excuse me. I’ll leave you to think about it. For the record, I’m sorry that my buying the building and getting involved with Esme caused so much tension. I hope you two can make up.”

With that, she made her way through the crowd to reach Esme and grabbed her hand. “Come with me,” she whispered, and pulled her down from the stairs. Esme’s happy laughter trailed behind them as Nora led her to her tiny, tiny office.

“This is definitely going to have to be included in the renovations,” Nora said, closing the door behind them. She scooped Esme up and deposited her on top of a scattered pile of paperwork on the desk, then dropped into the desk chair. With a couple of scoots, she was sitting between Esme’s knees, her arms crossed to make a bridge she could prop her chin on and stare happily up into the lovely brown eyes she adored so much.

Esme’s hands stroked over Nora’s hair, and the smile on her face matched how Nora felt. “I like my office,” she objected mildly. “It’s cozy.”

“It’s impossible,” Nora corrected, but she let it go. There’d be time to talk about the office later. She had still more important things to talk to Esme about. “Esme, I’m sorry I ran out the other night, that I ignored your calls and texts.”

“No. Shh.” Esme’s hands fluttered over her hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Nora. For being so difficult and prickly, for saying that what we had was nothing… it was so much. It wasn’t nothing.”

“Thank you. Apology accepted.” Nora hesitated, gathering her thoughts. “Esme, can we start over? I want to try again. Do things right. I want to take you to dinner, have proper dates, go on bike rides together.”

“I want all that, too.” One delicate hand cupped Nora’s chin and lifted her to sit up taller. “I want to show you how you’re everything to me.”

Nora’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh.”

“I’ve been crazy and all kinds of up and down with you, but I care, Nora. I’ve missed you. And I hate that I hurt you. So yes. I want to start over and get things right from the beginning.”

Thrilled, Nora lunged up and took Esme’s face in her hands. In an instant, she was kissing the breath out of her, tasting coffee and chocolate, feeling electricity crackle down her spine as Esme kissed her back.

They were a wild, unlikely match, but nothing had ever made Nora feel more alive in her life. Her breath moved harshly through her nose as they kissed, and when Esme finally let her go, Nora dropped back into the desk chair like a lead weight. She grinned up at the impish pixie who had turned her life upside down.

“I do want you to know,” she said, “that I love you.”

Esme’s eyes went round. “That’s not exactly starting back at the beginning.”

“I feel like we can skip a few steps here and there.” Nora beamed.

Esme thought about it, then nodded, and when Esme spoke again, Nora had never been happier in her life.

“I love you, too,” she said. And in that instant, Nora felt a page in the book of her life turn, and the next chapter was ready to begin.