About That Night

Kyle looked over his shoulder, watching the sway of her hips as she walked away.

This was how things should be. Simple. Easy. No messy feelings or entanglements.

He may not have figured everything out since getting out of prison, but he at least knew that much.

Four

RYLANN HAD NEARLY finished unpacking her suitcases before she realized that she’d been hanging her clothes in only half of the closet.

Clearly, her subconscious needed to get with the program.

Her new Chicago apartment came with exactly one of everything: one bedroom, one den, one walk-in closet, one parking space, one set of dishes, one toothbrush, and, most important, one owner. There was no other half.

She grabbed several of her suits off the top rack and hung them in the empty side of the closet. Then she thought they looked sad and pathetic all by themselves, so she stuffed some sweaters on the rack above them. Then her yoga pants and workout gear.

Still not enough.

She hurried back into her bedroom, where a suitcase lay open on the queen bed, and pulled out two black cocktail dresses that were her standard attire at work-related evening events. Back in San Francisco, she’d been active in the California bar association—she’d even served on the ethics committee—and as part of that she’d often attended cocktail parties and di

But she was finding new circles these days. That was, after all, what this move to Chicago was about.

Ryla

Twenty minutes ago, there’d been a brief moment in her unpacking when she’d faltered a bit. She’d stumbled upon the dress, the scarlet V-neck dress she’d been wearing on the night of The Proposal That Never Was, a dress that she probably should’ve burned for its bad karma except for the fact that it made her chest look a full size bigger. Bad karma or not, that was a pretty magical dress.

Besides, Ryla

Ryla

Yes. Progress.

She had a six-month plan to get over her ex and was pleased to see that she was on schedule. Actually, she was ahead of schedule—she’d slotted in two days for a temporary relapse after her move to Chicago, but so far she appeared to be doing just fine.

Dark gray suit, light blue shirt, the striped tie she’d bought him “just because” the day after they’d moved in together.

Damn. She did remember what he’d worn that night.

Per her six-month plan, she was supposed to be forgetting details like these. The way that same lock of hair stuck out from the back of his head every morning. The gold flecks in his hazel eyes. How he’d squirmed in his seat when he’d said he didn’t know if he wanted to get married.

Actually, she’d probably remember that particular detail for a long time.

They were having di

He was going to propose.

Perfect timing, had been Ryla

After the waiter had poured their champagne, Jon clinked his glass to hers. “To new begi

Ryla

They each took a sip, then Jon reached across the table and took her hand. As always, he looked handsome in his suit and with his dark hair perfectly styled. On his wrist he wore the watch she’d bought him for his last birthday. She’d spent more money on the gift than she’d intended, but he’d seemed oddly down about turning the big three-five, and she’d decided to splurge to cheer him up.

“So there’s something I want to ask you.” He stroked her fingers with his thumb. “You know that this last birthday got to me. Since then, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the direction my life is headed. And even though I know what I want, I think I freaked out because it’s such a big step.” He paused and took a deep breath.

Ryla

vous.”

He chuckled. “A little, maybe.”

“Just come out with it,” she teased. “We already have the champagne.”

With that, Jon looked into her eyes.

“I want to move to Italy.”

Ryla

“Italy?” she repeated.

Jon nodded, the words coming easier for him now. “A spot opened up in our Rome office, and I put my name in.” He threw out his hands and laughed like a kid who’d just been told he was going to Disney World. “Italy! How great is that?”

“That is…something.” Ryla

“What brought all this on?” she asked, feeling as if she were talking to a casual acquaintance and not the man she’d been dating for the last three years.

Jon took a hearty sip of champagne. “It’s been on my mind for a while. I don’t know…I’m thirty-five years old, and I’ve never really done anything. I went to school; I got a job. That basically sums up my life.” He gestured offhandedly to her. “Same with you.”

Ryla

“Adventurous?” Jon scoffed. “You moved here because you’d landed a clerkship with a federal appellate judge. Besides, that was seven years ago. Maybe it’s time for a new adventure.” He grabbed her hand again. “Think about it. We can get an apartment near the Piazza Navona. Remember that trattoria we found there, the one with the yellow awning? You loved that place.”

“Why, yes, I did. As a nice place to visit on vacation.”

“And here comes the sarcasm,” Jon said, sitting back in his chair.

Ryla

“Well, you had to know something was up, with the champagne and everything,” Jon said.