I nod, smiling widely. “I did. It’s gone.”

“What changed?”

“Nothing and also everything.”

He laughs. “That’s broad and vague at the same time.”

I shrug. “I know, but the truth is, it’s simple. I thought about it. I weighed it. I decided it’s more foolish not to see what might come of you and me.”

“Pun intended?”

“Oh, I hope the coming won’t be a pun.”

“I promise there will be nothing punny in that department. But seriously, last night you were reticent.”

“I know. But life is short, Leo. I’ve been worried that in order to build my career, I needed to focus only on my career, but if I do that, I’ll miss out on another part of life—on us. Just like I missed out on my career beforehand. I don’t want to keep missing out, on either side. And even if RaeLynn tries to whisper insidious things in my ear, the reality is you aren’t my boss, and I’m not your employee, and this—us, whatever this is—will only get in the way of our business deal if we let it get in the way.”

He arches a brow. “RaeLynn?”

I tell him briefly what she said to me earlier. “And then she was so curious how we knew each other. I bet she goes on Facebook and stalks me tonight. But guess what? I have nothing to hide. In fact, I think we should tell Kingsley that I want to bang you.”

He cracks up. “That’s what you think we should tell her? I mean, it’s supremely awesome, but I think maybe it’s not the best approach.”

I tap-dance my fingers over his chest. “Fine. But I will be thinking about banging you when we tell her, let me assure you.”

He grabs my hand, squeezes, and says in a smoky, sexy voice, “That makes me very reassured.”

Quickly, we find Kingsley, who’s chatting with her sister in the park, debating whether Grey’s Anatomy jumped the shark in season five, six, or seven.

I jump in. “Season eleven. It was that episode when⁠—”

Kingsley holds up a bejeweled hand. “Don’t say it. I like to pretend that never happened.”

I mime zipping my lips. Then I unzip them. “Actually, do you have a minute for something else? Something much more uplifting than a show that rips out your heart, then eviscerates it, then boils it with lobsters?”

“Of course. What can I do for you?” She steps away from her sister, and the three of us grab seats at an empty chess table.

I inhale deeply, ready to tell her, when Leo speaks.

“Lulu and I want to date. Is that going to be a problem?”

I burst into sunshine, loving that he jumped first.

Kingsley’s lips twitch, and she looks from him to me, me to him, like a seesaw. She chuckles. A little harder. Then louder, until she covers her mouth.

Kingsley waves her hand as if she’s trying to rein in her laughing. Eventually, she collects herself. “I’m sorry, but that was cuter than otters holding hands. You two are going on a poster in the subway for How to Date without Tinder, Cinder, and Hinder.”

“For the record, Hinder is the best. It just flat-out stops you from all dates,” Leo says, deadpan.

I dive in, going along with it. “Admittedly, Cinder was kind of fun, but eventually they all went up in flames.”

Kingsley’s eyes play tennis spectator between the two of us. “That’s what I’m talking about. This thing.”

“Actually, we’re heading to the transit authority next to have our photo taken,” Leo adds, keeping up the routine.

That’s the best part—we can tell her and do it like us, like two old friends, finishing each other’s sentences and making jokes.

Kingsley hoots then slaps a hand on the table. “Listen, I knew there was something cooking between the two of you. I knew it all along. And I am so delighted that I’d like to take credit. So, is that cool? Credit given to moi?”

“Take it. You can have all the credit you want.”

“Excellent. Now, I will only say two things.” Her expression turns serious, her tone pure boardroom. “If this explodes and turns into all sorts of relationship carnage and Facebook relationship statuses revoked, and if that affects the partnership, I will be a new shade of livid you won’t want to see.”

Leo parts his lips, but Kingsley is not a woman to be interrupted.

“That means I expect you to behave like adults, whether this works out or not. And Leo, you need to remember that Lulu is a very important business partner. Treat her with respect and kindness. And don’t be a dick.”

“I’m not a dick.”

“I know, but I have to say it.”

She looks to me. “And Lulu, this man is inscrutable. How you broke down his walls is beyond me, but kudos to you, and I expect the same as well. Behave like adults whether this goes badly or swimmingly.”

I squeeze Leo’s hand. “I vote for swimmingly.”

“Me too,” Leo says, and as Kingsley chats about her expectations for the line, I let myself enjoy how easy this was—telling her.

Then again, telling her was never supposed to be hard.

There was never a line in the corporate sand forbidding the two of us.

The line was personal, drawn by me, and I’ve undrawn it and I’m ready to step over it.

Kingsley folds her hands. “Now that we have that out of the way, I want you to know I fully expect a wedding invite. I’d also like to sing at the wedding, and I hope you’ll name your firstborn after me.”

Leo’s jaw drops.

She flaps her hands, gesturing from me to him. “Don’t worry. If you have a son, you can name him Kingston. For the record, you’d make beautiful babies. I sure hope you’re getting to that soon. I’d like babies in the office. I’d like to throw a baby shower. I’d like to have a day care at work. My own children haven’t given me grandkids yet, and that kind of neglect needs to stop soon.”

I laugh, and Leo laughs lightly too, and it’s not one of those high-pitched nervous man laughs, but an easy one, like he doesn’t think any of these ideas are crazy. He taps his temple as if he’s filing away the info. “Duly noted.”

I make a note of it as well.

Because I want that too.

Well, not yet.