I feel like I’m floating, and in minutes, I literally am. We coast over clouds, and within an hour we’re landing at the airport in Zurich.

  “Do you need any help getting a flight home?” Jason asks, as we step into the building, which is bustling with people.

  It’s so strange to see people. So many of them! The airport is filled with sounds—people speaking in many different languages, music pumped out over speakers, and the buzz of escalators, scanners, and ringing phones. It’s bright too—the florescent lights cast a white light over all of the polished surfaces, shops, and cafes.

  “I can figure it out,” I say.

  We’re standing near a large flight schedule, which keeps scrolling through departure times. Jason and Charlie have a nine a.m. flight, and it’s already eight. I know that he has to get going, but I don’t know how to say goodbye.

  Charlie has pulled his muffin from his backpack and is eating it hungrily. I’ll start with him. It won’t be easy to part with my new little friend, but at least it will be easier than parting with my new big crush.

  I squat down.

  “Bye, buddy,” I sign. “Thanks for playing with me. I had lots of fun.”

  The little boy carefully places his breakfast back into his backpack, and I wonder if he’s getting ready to sign something, or if he’s just simply done eating.

  Then, he barrels toward me, closing the two-foot gap and body-slamming me with one of the best hugs I’ve ever received. His skinny arms wrap around my neck, and I feel his little cheek press against mine.

  He hangs onto me for a minute, and then steps back.

  “Bye, Harper,” he signs. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “You too, Charlie,” I say.

  He frowns, and before things can get too sad, his dad intercepts. “Hey champ, do you think you can zip White Teddy into your bag ready for the airplane? You know how White Teddy likes to be all cozy in his bag.”

  The distraction works, and Charlie gets down to business, curling White Teddy’s limbs into a tight ball and then starting to stuff the creature into his bag. I’m wondering how the poor muffin is going to fare in there once it’s squished by White Teddy’s bottom, but I decide not to bring it up.

  Jason steps forward. There’s something in his hand. He holds it out to me, and I see that it’s a business card.

  Is he kidding?

  I reach forward, as if I’m about to grab the card, but instead I bypass it and take the phone out of his jacket pocket, where I’ve just seen him put it.

  It’s a flirtatious move, and Jason doesn’t miss it. “Oh, okay then,” he says, his voice light and playful.

  “Come on,” I say, opening up his contacts. “We’re way past business cards.”

  “Are we, now?”

  “Yeah.” I finish typing and hand the phone back to him. Then I open up my arms.

  He steps toward me, and we meet for a hug. It feels so good to hug him. So right. He’s at least a foot taller than me, and my face just reaches his chest. He’s so strong and sturdy, and I feel him squeeze me tight.

  When we part, I try to smile, though I’m feeling anything but happy.

  “Call me next time you’re in Boston,” I say, trying to sound casual, as if I’m not about to walk away from the most amazing specimen of a man I’ve ever had the pleasure of spending time with.

  He looks intently at me. Oh my God! Those eyes.

  “I will, Harper,” he promises.

  I force myself to reach for my bag.

  Now’s the moment to leave, but it feels like I’m wading through knee-deep molasses as I start to walk away. I don’t get far before turning around.

  Jason is helping Charlie get his backpack on. The thing is bulging because it’s so full of bear—I see one little furry white limb sticking out. Jason glances up at me.

  We look at each other for a moment, and then I turn around again and walk away.

  As I look for the flight that’ll take me home, my mind is far from the task at hand. Instead of the logistics of traveling, I’m daydreaming about the man I just said goodbye to.

  We became friends, didn’t we, over the past few days? It surprises me, because friendships like that don’t come easily to me. I guess I’ve been too obsessed with work over the past few years to take the time to meet new people in such a meaningful way.

  It seems odd that our friendship sprung up in such a short amount of time, but I really feel it. I like him…on many levels.

  And I meant it—I’d like him to reach out if he travels to Boston. I’d love to grab a coffee with him, hear about his life, tell him about mine, and share a laugh or two. Even if that’s all that ever happens between us, that would be okay.

  That vacation could have been a complete disaster, but the avalanche turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

  Chapter 10

  Harper

  If there was a support group for people addicted to job-search websites, I would seriously consider going to a meeting. “Hi, my name is Harper Kelly and I’m a job-search-aholic.”

  I’ve been bouncing between online job boards non-stop since returning home from Switzerland a week ago. It starts in the morning, as I sip my first cup of coffee, and the compulsive behavior lasts well into the night when I huddle in bed with my phone, my face lit by the blue light of the screen.

  My behavior is fueled by desire. The thing is, there’s nothing on these freaking job websites. I mean, if the websites had an audio track, it would be crickets chirping.

  There are zero promising openings now, with just a month left in the school year. Zip. Zilch. Nada.

  Hence my desire. Every few moments, I have the thought: Maybe something just got posted!

  The only break in my addictive behavior comes when I stop searching the boards long enough to check in on apartment listings. That’s been a bit more promising, but I can’t quite pull the trigger and go look at any of the listings without knowing where my income will come from.

  What’s my budget for rent? Without a salary, I have no idea. Right now, I can’t even afford rent. That’s the reason I’ve moved back into my parents’ house.

  Both my parents work full time so the house is empty during the day—perfect for uninterrupted job hunting.

  It’s eleven in the morning, but I’m still in my pajamas. Terrible daytime television is on, but I’m barely paying attention, instead focusing on my phone. Still no teacher jobs.

  What’s new?

  My finger strays a little, and I click on a tab that’s new to me: service jobs. I’m lured in by the impressive number of job opportunities in the Boston area: one hundred and nineteen! Soon, I’m scrolling through listings like “Wait-staff needed, no experience necessary! Come join the Daily Donut’s team!” At another point in my life, I would have never considered working at a donut shop. But now, I feel myself seriously contemplating it.

  An alert notifies me that I have a text message. I feel like some kind of spell is broken, and I’m happy to stop gazing at the donut job’s benefits as I switch over to my message inbox.

  Expecting it to be my mom checking in on me, I’m surprised at the name on the screen: Jason. I open it up immediately.

  Hi Harper. I’m in Boston. Wondering if you want to grab a cup of coffee this afternoon?

  My heart skips a beat. Oh my God! I mean, I’d hoped, when I put my number into his phone, that he might contact me, but I never imagined it would be just a week later! What is he doing in Boston?

  This is crazy. Jason Raynes! Is it a coincidence that he’s here so soon after we parted—or is he here specifically to see me?

  I stop myself before my ego can get too puffed up. Just to see me? Really, Harper? Don’t be so full of yourself.

  Nonetheless, I feel super giddy as I jump off of the couch and snap off the television.

  Would I like to get coffee? Of course I’d like to get coffee! That question’s like asking a second-grader if they’d like to go out to recess.

  Yes! The answer is yes.

  I’m so excited as I begin running upstairs to my old bedroom that I almost forget to text him back. When I get to my room, I remember. I flop down on my bed, belly first with my legs bent up and swinging behind me, and compose my message.

  Sure! Where, and what time? My schedule is pretty open.

  Wide open would be more accurate. But I don’t need to tell him that.

  His response comes right away.

  Great. How about three? My office building.

  He includes the address, which I recognize as downtown Boston. My parents’ house is in the suburbs, and I don’t have a car, so I’ll have to ride the T. I mentally give myself a departure time, and then head into the shower to wash off my layers of stagnant job-hunting daytime-television grime. One out of the shower, I feel fresh and energized—and above all, excited to see Jason.

  I still can’t get over the fact that he’s already in Boston, just seven days after we parted in Switzerland. That can’t be a coincidence… Can it?

  It’s beautiful out—a fact that I’ve been almost completely oblivious to until now—and I dress in a light, summery skirt, blouse, and a pair of heels. I feel pretty and carefree as I hop on the T and head into the city.

  It’s easy to find Jason’s offices. The building is massive, and says “Rayne or Shine Steel” in imposing block letters across the glass facade. The lobby is impressive. Everything seems to be made of perfectly polished sparking-clean glass. Jason asked me to meet him in a cafe on the second floor, and as I ride the elevator (also glass, by the way) up, some of my excitement degrades into nervousness. My palms are sweaty. My mouth feels dry.

  Thankfully, I don’t have much time for dwelling on my anxiety, because as soon as I step off of the elevator, I see him.

  He’s sitting in a chair at a little two-top table, right outside a modern-looking cafe, but as he sees me, he stands up and waves me over.

  He’s in business attire and he looks even more handsome than I remembered. I can tell that he is in his element—even more so than at the ski lodge. He looks right at home in his suit and tie, surrounded by his employees, like a king in his kingdom.

  I don’t know if I’ve ever really seen a man in a suit that’s been custom fitted, except in movies. There’s no excess or empty space that looks like it needs to be filled—like the puffy shoulders of rented tuxedos at weddings I’ve attended. His suit fits the proportions of his body perfectly, and seems to accentuate his broad shoulders and narrow, athletic waist and hips. His hair is styled differently than it was at the lodge, and he’s clean shaven. While I loved his rustic, mountain-vacation look, I find that I’m enjoying his urban office style even more.

  “Hi,” he says, as I approach.

  His deep, Irish-accented voice makes me feel weak at the knees.

  I think I was getting accustomed to Jason’s presence while I was in the luxurious setting of the Roussillon, and I might have even started to take his sexiness for granted. But now, he stands out in so much contrast to my dreary unemployed existence that even his voice seems to be like a gift from the gods.

  I find that I’m speechless.

  Jason is smiling. “It’s so good to see you! Can I get you a drink?” He motions to the inner area of the cafe.

  I feel myself nod. “Thanks,” I say. “It’s good to see you too.”

  We move toward the line, and I feel people’s eyes on me as I stand next to Jason. He commands attention, as CEO of the company, and for a moment, I wonder if people think I’m his girlfriend. The thought flatters me.

  “Is it too late for coffee for you?” he asks, handing me a folded paper menu.

  “I’ll probably stick to decaf. I wouldn’t want to be twired tonight.”

  “Ha! Right. The s’mores. I’ve seriously cut back Charlie’s sugar intake since the trip. And, knock on wood, no more meltdowns since we’ve gotten home.”

  “He’s doing well?” I ask.

  People seem to be hopping out of line in front of us, and it occurs to me that it’s because Jason is the company’s founder. He has more than VIP status—he’s the most important person that they’ll see all day. As people toss us curious glances, I see that they’re definitely wondering who I am.

  I like to think that we make a good-looking couple. I’m pleased at Jason’s body language; he’s standing close to me, and as we’re expedited to the front of the line, he stays right by my side, as if we’re glued at the hip.

  “He’s adjusting to post-vacation life,” Jason says. “Though he does keep asking about you. I think he misses you.”

  I blush and smile. We order our drinks, and Jason pays.

  “Really?” I ask as we wait. “Well, you can tell him that I miss him too.”

  “I will,” Jason says.

  “I didn’t realize you had offices in Boston. How often do you visit?”

  “Usually only once a quarter. This was kind of an unexpected trip.”

  “A fire that had to be put out?” I ask.

  “Something like that. Except this one’s not exactly work related.”

  I’m not quite sure what that means, but at that moment, our drinks arrive.

  Soon, we’re seated outside of the cafe, in the bustling second-story open area. Like the lobby, it’s made entirely of glass. On this floor, there’s also a large fountain in the middle of the room, and a few towering trees which give the space a relaxing feel.

  Jason’s quiet as he sips his drink—an iced green tea. I’m too wound up and impatient to wait for him to speak, so I press him with another question.

  “So… What’s the nature of the fire?” I ask.

  “Well…” Jason sets his cup down on the glass table. He’s been looking out over the fountain and trees, but now he looks directly at me.

  I feel myself melting. If I don’t look away, I’ll become as hot as the decaf vanilla latte in my hands. But I can’t break eye contact, so I turn into a puddle right there in my seat. I’m crushing hard on this guy, and there’s no way to act like I’m not. I feel myself bat my eyelashes flirtatiously, and then finally, I look down.

  I hear Jason take a deep breath. “All right, there’s something I need to…propose to you.”

  My mind starts racing a mile a minute. Is he going to ask me to date him? Is this how our relationship is going to start?

  Immediately, I start imagining the long-distance arrangement. Will once a quarter be enough? Maybe I’ll have to start visiting New York, too. We could make it work. I would—

  “Have you found a new job yet?” Jason asks, interrupting my train of thought.

  “Nope.” I’d rather not get into the pathetic details of my futile search, so I leave it at that.

  “And you said you were a second-grade teacher?”

  I nod.

  “Good. I have an offer for you. Charlie’s tutor is retiring, and I’m looking for a replacement. It’s a full-time position, and I think you’d make the perfect candidate—if you’d consider transitioning away from classroom teaching and into a private tutor role.”

  “You want… You want me?”

  He nods. “I’ve seen how good you are with Charlie, and I think he’d be very happy with the arrangement. You’d need to move to New York, of course, but I would take care of relocation expenses for you, and I can pay for housing for you in the city. I’m sure you’re wondering what the pay is. I can offer—”

  “I’ll take it,” I say. I feel myself bursting with excitement. I want to leap out of my seat and hug Jason, and it’s a struggle to stay seated. No, he’s not asking me to date him, but hey, this is the next best thing!

  Jason chuckles. “Don’t you want to know what your salary will be?”

  “Oh right… You can see I’m going to be a tough negotiator,” I joke sarcastically. I’m beaming. I can’t help it.

  He laughs. “Maybe you have some kind of reverse-psychology tactic up your sleeve. Should I write down the rate, and slide it across the table to you?”

  I laugh too. “I already showed my hand—and I mean it. I’ll take it, whatever the pay is. I’m so excited! When do I start?”

  “Wow,” Jason says, still chuckling. “This is so much easier than the business deals I’m used to navigating. I can pay you ninety thousand a year, plus housing, as I mentioned. If you’re available, I’d like you to start early next week. Monday would be ideal.”

  My body could not handle one more ounce of happiness or excitement. If anything else good happens, I might implode. Not only is Jason offering me a dream job in a city I’ve always wanted to live in, at the perfect moment, but he’s also offering me double my annual salary as a public-school teacher.

  “That sounds good to me,” I say, with a slap-happy grin on my astounded face. Jason’s grinning too. He seems as happy with the arrangement as I am.

  “Excellent,” he says. “I haven’t written up any kind of a formal offering, but I’ll get one to you as soon as possible. For now…” He extends his hand. “Shake on it?”

  I nod, and reach for his hand.

  As soon as our palms touch, I feel an electric charge pass through us. It seems to hold all of my excitement for my new life in New York, mixed with Jason’s anticipation as well.

  The delicious feeling stays with me as we part, and I feel like singing aloud as I practically skip back to the T station. If it was raining, I’d be swinging around lamp posts, singing. As it is, the afternoon sun serves as a backdrop to my exuberance, and I do little dance steps when I think no one’s looking.

  Chapter 11

  Harper

  I look at my phone again.

  There’s no way this is the right address. At least, this isn’t like any form of employee housing I’ve ever seen.

  There’s a doorman. A freaking doorman! He’s eying me with this look that says, “You’re in the wrong neighborhood, lady”. I certainly feel like I’m in the wrong neighborhood. In my faded jeans and T-shirt, I don’t look anything like the designer-dud wearing folks I’ve see strolling in and out of the building in the past ten minutes, since I arrived and started lurking.