Page 56 of Secondhand Secrets

“That’s a big promise, Chip. Not all endings—”

“And you shouldn’t worry about not being able to figure your way around. You’re smart, Ally.” He smiled, fully aware that she’d been about to remind him that many couples parted ways and never spoke again. He didn’t want to think about that right now. Didn’t want to believe anything like that could ever happen to them. “You’re keeping up with me just fine, and that’s got to mean something.”

She reached out and poked him in the ribs. “And what about you, Mr. Brave and Worldly? How do you feel about the looming Encode pitch?”

He worked to keep his shoulders from slumping and watched the cheeriness in her expression fade as she grasped his change in mood. “Terrified, Ally. I’m terrified, but I’m going to try anyway. You know why?”

She gave a small shake of her head.

“Because facing the fear is better than being left questioning who I might have been.” He gave a shrug, as though the choice really could be that simple, but the slow churning in his belly warned that he and Ally faced huge, life-altering decisions, and there was nothing simple about the gambit of change coming their way.

A heavy silence drew, with nothing but the bunching of muscles around her eyes, though she shook her head again, the action more decisive this time as her loud intake of breath hinted at renewed focus.

“So then, ask me to come to Boston with you again.” She blinked up at him, her unbroken gaze boring into him, like she was deathly serious.

He gave her a sideways stare, not quite sure of her motivations or whether he should do as told. Then again, he’d been the one to preach on taking risks, so he’d be a hypocrite not to lead by example. “Ahh…want to come to Boston with me?”

Her lips split into a toothy grin, and she offered a quick and repeated nod. “Yes. Yes, I would.”

She tore her hand from his and gave a light Ally squeal, clapping her palms together while he wrestled with his stunned silence.

“Really?” The question half-stuck on its way out, and he cleared his throat against his previous rough delivery. “You mean, you want me to show you around the big smoke? Maybe even come as my date to the Encode dinner?”

Her mouth hung limp for a beat before she snapped it shut and seemed to recover. “That does sound awfully intimidating, but… yes to it all.”

Twenty-Seven

Boston was everything Ally expected and more. More buildings. More noise. More people. All on the tail of a week filled with a mountain of things to do before she could even get here, the plan being that she would stay for three days and return to Harlow the day after Chip’s presentation, their status as a couple murky thereafter.

Now, having already left her luggage at Chip’s dad’s house, she strolled through the Back Bay district for some quick sightseeing with Chip before dinner. Her brain hurt from the overwhelm of endless lines of upmarket galleries, boutiques, and mega-chain stores she could never hope to see in Harlow.

“Is that Hancock Tower?” She stabbed a finger at a tower covered in reflective glass up ahead, one that dwarfed all other nearby historical stone and red brick buildings.

He squeezed her hand, a seeming gesture of pride that she recognized the building from her research on Boston. “That it is.”

She tugged back on his hand, making him stop so she could marvel at yet another giddy sight, her eyes not used to the dizzying shift of clouds above high rooftops. “How do you ever get used to all this?”

A smile pulled at her lips, and she went with the mood, releasing her hold on him to do a full-circle turn, the sudden honk of a nearby car the only thing to pull her from her spinning.

Chip laughed and grabbed her hand again, probably scared she’d fall onto the busy road or that her current break in the flow of foot-traffic might cause a passerby to trip.

“Trust me.” He pulled her back into a stroll and around a corner. “Give this place enough time, and you’ll be rushing around like the rest of us, too busy trying to get from one place to the other to notice the sights.”

The space around her opened up, and she recognized the red roof of Trinity Church on the edge of Copley Square, where people sat on patches of grass as well as benches.

Where Harlow all but shut down on Sundays, tourists and locals alike jostled around here, her heart soaring because she was just like them, but at the same time, panging because her sensory overload pointed at how sheltered her life had been.

With the Argyle deal still unsettled, every day without word led her to think the answer would be no. Without that deal, unlike Chip, she ran the real risk of not knowing where she would go next or what she would do.

Chip squeezed her hand lightly, and she redirected her attention onto him. “So what do you think? Could you get used to a place like this?”

“Without being lost?” She bumped him in a joking manner. “I think I’ll need more than five minutes here to know for sure, but this is a beautiful city. I’m glad you’re the one to help me take my first steps out of Minnesota. Even if I am only here for three days.”

He turned the green and gold mottle of his eyes to her, leaning in to kiss the bridge of her nose. “Well, my next days ahead don’t seem as scary with you here. So thank you for joining me.”

Her attention caught on the public library, a rectangular 1800s-looking building about a thousand times bigger than any library she’d ever encountered.

“Then, let me provide you with more distraction.” While Boston’s cold North Atlantic breeze brushed her cheeks, she peered up at the mostly clear sky, the wind’s watery smell another stark difference to landlocked Harlow. “Entertain me with what’s next on Chip Overton’s great tour of this city on the hill.”

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