"Well now I just have to kiss you," I said, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him close. We both couldn't stop smiling, though, so it was something of a funny kiss. Still nice, though. I still couldn't quite believe I was here in a cab with him rather than sat beside some stranger on a plane somewhere over the Mediterranean by now.

I ignored the way the driver adjusted his mirror.

Liam pulled something out of his pocket after leaning back. It was my letter, I saw. The envelope had been sliced neatly along the top. "Now you're going to tell me about this."

I did. I told him about seeing him at the gelato shop, about my conversation with Abigail and about what had really happened in that lecture that had set off the whole chain of events. I told him how I didn't think I belonged with him. I even told him about my leaving the letter with the concierge.

Liam stayed quiet for a while. Long enough that I took notice of the slight forward movement in traffic, like ice on a warming river breaking up.

"I haven't told you anything about who I was before I started Mass Systems, have I?" he said finally.

I shook my head.

"I've never been a good storyteller, so I'll keep it short. Ten years ago I didn't know who I was. I'd never owned a jacket worth more than $50, never drove a car worth more than a couple grand. I drifted. Delivering pizza. Jockeying a cash register. I knew things could be better, I wanted them to be better. I just didn't know how to get there.

"I know now that I was afraid. To try, to put myself out there. Afraid of what people might say, afraid of what might happen if I failed. It kept me up at night. There was the guilt, too. Knowing I could be better but always putting it off or dismissing the possibility..."

I tried to imagine Liam as anything but the high achieving man who sat beside me and failed. "What happened?"

He nodded, giving himself permission to continue. "My mom got sick. So sick she couldn't work anymore, and since the last time I saw my dad was when I was five and he'd gone on a smoke and beer run, she had no one to take care of her.

"I certainly couldn't do it on delivery tips. So I quit my jobs."

"Quit?" I said.

He shrugged. "I knew it was time to man up, and I also knew that as long as I could feel even somewhat comfortable doing what I'd been doing, I wouldn't be able to stop. So I quit. And it was tough, at first, working out of the old garage in the house where I'd grown up. So hard that sometimes it seemed like I could have been making more money picking up empty beer cans off the lawns of frat houses."

"Weren't you still afraid?" I said. I'd hardly noticed that traffic had begun moving faster and faster, or the way the trees and grass along the median had turned into a green blur.

"Almost as afraid as when I thought I'd lost you," he smiled, his fingers tightening around mine for a second before he continued, "I wanted to quit. I even told myself it was okay to quit, that I'd tried. But I didn't. I realized that true success comes from being willing to put in the work, to fail and to get back up and try again. I realized that you can only truly be brave when you're afraid. Anything else is just pride. So when the world pushed, I pushed back. And then I noticed how it began to give.

"And then Mass Systems really started taking off. Any time I feel like I want to give in and give up, I remember where I came from and what it took to get me from there to here."

"That was beautiful," the cab driver said, glancing at us in the mirror.

"Thanks," Liam replied, one corner of his mouth crooking up in a smile.

"He took the words right out of my head," I added. I leaned over and tried to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek, but he turned his head at the last moment so that it landed on his lips instead.

"But do you understand what I'm trying to say? Like I said, my storytelling hat doesn't fit very well."

"I do," I said. I meant it.

"Well, I believe you, but if you want something a bit shorter so that can remember it better, let me put it this way: Don't quit. Don't quit on me and don't quit on yourself."

"Got it." I slipped my hand through the crook of his elbow and pulled his arm against my body, resting my head against his shoulder.

"Oh, I'm going to have to sneak you back into my hotel. The concierge who gave me your letter, he looked, well, the best way I can put it is vexed. I felt like it had something to do with a copy of a painting that used to hang behind his desk. The Mona Lisa, I think."

I sucked in a breath through my teeth. "I may have had something to do with that..."

He grinned, but his phone started ringing before he could drag the details out of me. He shifted to pull it from his pocket. "Yes?"

My head so close to his, I recognized Abigail's voice on the other end. Before I could help it, I tightened my grip on his arm as a hot and cold mix of anxiety and anger bubbled inside of me.

"That's fine, Abigail. Stop whatever it is you're doing. I no longer require your services."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then she started talking again. Liam waited for her to calm down, moving the phone away from his ear to avoid some of the shrillness.

"This is not a joke. You're fired. You're good at your job, but I can't work with someone when they're trying to undermine me, and don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about."

Another pause. Another burst of shrill anger from the other side of the conversation. Liam hung up on her.

"You didn't have to do that," I said. I felt terrible, a little sick. I hadn't liked Abigail, not at all. But I hadn't wanted to cost her her job. Still, there was also a bit of devilish delight in the mix. Hey, I'm not perfect.

"I did. I should have done it as soon as I'd learned she'd confronted you."

"Aren't you afraid she'll try and get back at you? Doesn't she know important things about Mass Systems, or you?" The delight it's strange mixture of sickness turned to worry as I thought that he may have just cost himself a great deal of money and public favor to do that.

"She's bound by a pretty strict NDA. If she does try anything, she's going to be digging herself out of that avalanche of litigation for a long time."

"Just be careful," I said, remembering the feline malice in Abigail's eyes.

Then the taxi ride ended and we'd arrived back at the flat I thought I'd never see again.

Chapter 15

My letter was still taped to the door, undisturbed. Thank God. Before seeing it, I'd experienced a mounting dread at having to explain myself to Mrs. Rosselini and that ubiquitous rolling pin of hers.

I had to take the letter down and open it up to unlock the door. I'd put the key to my flat in there along with the note.

"How many of those did you write?" Liam said. He stood behind me on the landing, letting my luggage rest on the step beneath him.

"You didn't have to do that, you know."

"I wanted to."

"Are you sure you just wanted to make sure I didn't make a run for it as soon as I left your sight?" I said, sliding the key into the lock. My pulse quickened when the deadbolt clacked.

"No. I trust you. Maybe I just want to see as much of you as I can, because an hour ago it seemed that I'd never get to look at you again."

I twisted the latch and put my shoulder into the door and we stepped inside. This feels right, I realized, looking at the room I'd spent the last several months considering my home.