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a sip of his drink so it did not slosh so precariously close to the rim of the glass. “We can do better than them,” Tim declared, leaning conspiratorially toward Dylan.

Dylan felt surprise jolt her sluggish thoughts. Turning from Tim to Steve, she began, “You want me to stay in Seattle?”

“We do.” Steve nodded. “Dylan, with us, you’ll have stock options. A junior partner doesn’t have equity.” Steve cast a glance back at Estelle.

“I’m sorry, darling. You are a nice young man, but I can’t stand to lose,” Estelle purred. “Dylan, how do you feel about being a partner?”

“We can’t do better than that,” Tim gasped and elbowed Steve, who held up a silencing hand, smiling as he watched Dylan think.

“I don’t understand. Jared was a junior partner. And this is my first big account. Don’t I need more time or experience or something?” she said, giving her head a shake.

“Why would you need more time? Steve here will hire you out from under our noses, and your level of commitment is too valuable to let go,” John said, nodding affably at Steve and Tim. “We can come to a happy medium. You stay with Kaplan, and Technocore keeps you on retainer.”

“That’s better for everyone! More drinks,” Tim said, waving at Trent as if he hadn’t just lost a bidding war.

The offer was slowly sinking in, and Dylan felt the first tingles of excitement. Looking from Estelle to John, she said, “Thank you. I’m excited about this opportunity. Just one question.”

“I’d be worried if you didn’t have a few,” Estelle said gently. “After all, this is big news.”

“Do you mean full partner or, like, I get the title of partner, but I’m secretly a junior partner in all but name . . . that type of thing?”

“Oh no. We mean partner. It’s clear there are opportunities for Kaplan in Seattle, but we need an office here to dig into the business. In order to do that, we need a new partner. That is, assuming you are willing to move back to Seattle.” John’s tone matched the kindness of his mother’s.

“I . . . wow. This is a lot.”

Estelle chuckled at her response. “Your work here has gone above and beyond what we usually see from our consultants. I flatter myself, but your commitment reminds me of when I first started. I’d roll up my sleeves and shovel shit if the client needed it.” Laughing at the surprise on Dylan’s face, she added, “Literally. My first client was a provider of septic tank systems.”

“I’m honored. Really. Thank you for the offer.”

“What do you say?” John asked, his arms spread wide.

Just over Estelle’s shoulder, Dylan could see her family and friends, chatting animatedly and pointing at the pack of camels that had begun to cross the newly transitioned desert. They were loud and messy and constantly in her business. But they were also loving, and as much as she needed order, she also needed their chaos.

And then there was Mike.

He had stopped to talk to yet another donor, his posture slightly stooped as he spoke to a small excitable-looking man. He must have felt her gaze, because he glanced up, catching her eye. Dylan couldn’t tell if the smile and nod were for the man bubbling in front of him or for her, but she knew for a fact that the flutter she felt was for him. She forced herself not to back away from the feeling. He had been kind, funny, and open with her. Thoughtful to a fault. Mike couldn’t be a reason to stay, but he certainly wasn’t a reason to go.

Taking a deep breath, she turned her attention back to the group. Her old highly ordered self was back in Texas. She had changed, and her new self belonged in the place she had left long ago.

“My answer is unequivocally yes. I’d be delighted to take on this new challenge.”

“Fantastic,” John shouted, extending his hand.

“Knew you could do it.” Tim raised his glass. Dylan wanted to point out that he’d known no such thing given the circumstances but decided a smile was a better answer. Next to him, Steve grinned and patted her on the shoulder.

“We need to send out press releases and get everything settled, so you’ll be split between two offices for a while,” Estelle said, extending her hand. Looking Dylan in the eye, she said, “I’m delighted to have you on board.”

“Thank you! I’m excited about this opportunity.” Dylan’s smile widened. Just over Estelle’s shoulder, she could see Mike finish his conversation with the bubbling man. He met her eye and nodded. This time, there wasn’t any question who the nod was for.

“I have every confidence you will rise to the occasion,” Estelle said, glancing over her shoulder at what had caught Dylan’s eye. “Looks like that handsome young man wants to talk to you.”

“Oh no.” She stumbled over her words, her face heating up as Tim, Steve, and John turned their heads to look. “That’s not anyone. I mean, it is someone, obviously. But not to me. Not right now, anyway,” Dylan finished, her words a flustered tumble as the group turned their attention back to her.

“Then that’s a real shame for both of you.” Estelle’s answer was direct but kind. Turning to the gentlemen with her, she said, “Boys, let’s go to the bar. Give Dylan a chance to talk with”—she coughed in a gesture so lacking in slyness that any member of the Delacroix family would have been proud—“no one.”

“Really, you don’t need to go,” Dylan said, laughing at John’s thumbs-up.

“Have fun tonight.” Estelle winked at her, then looped her arm through Steve’s and sashayed away with more speed and style than her sparkly dress betrayed.

John raised his empty glass and said, “See you soon,” before turning to catch up to his mother.

“See you Monday, partner,” Tim said as he walked by.

Dylan laughed. Remembering Stacy, she shot out a hand and caught Tim’s arm. “Wait.”

“What’s up?” Tim asked, still looking over at the bar.

“About those ‘calls’

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