“So you sent James Brown packing, and then what happened?” Sophia asked, and I finished the last of the story: Simon’s entry, his apology, the disappearing Purina, his invitation…

“So you just, had this epiphany in the bathroom, just like that? Go to Spain with Simon?” Mimi finally asked.

“Yep. I didn’t really overthink it. I just, I can’t explain it…I just know I should go on this trip. I mean, I’ve always wanted to go to Spain, and I know he’ll be a good tour guide, and come on, how much fun will it be? We’ll have a blast together!”

“Bullshit,” Sophia stated simply.

“Come again?”

“I call bullshit, Caroline. You’re going because you want something to happen there with him. Don’t deny it.” She eyed me severely.

“I deny nothing,” I quipped, signaling the waiter for our check.

“No more harem, huh?” Mimi asked.

“So it would seem. I’m not a fool. I know a man like him doesn’t change overnight, but if the Giggler is out of the way before Spain? Well, then, that’s a Simon of a different color, now isn’t it?” I grinned cheekily, wiggling my eyebrows at my girls.

“Why, Caroline Reynolds, I do believe you plan on seducing this man,” Sophia said, and Mimi clapped her hands with glee.

“Simon’s going to bring back the O!” Mimi cheered, attracting more than a little attention.

“Oh, hush. We’ll see. If, and this is a big fat if, ladies. If I ever allow anything to happen between Simon and me, it’s gonna be on my terms. Which would include no harem, no drinking, and no hot tubbing.”

“I don’t know, Caroline. No drinking? I think it’d be criminal to be in Spain and not be indulging in a little sangria,” Mimi piped up.

“Well, I do enjoy me some sangria,” I mused. Visions of Simon and me, sipping sangria while watching the Spanish sunset. Hmmm…

Text between Simon and Caroline:

So are you the type of girl who wears

a big floppy hat on the beach?

Pardon me?

You know, those crazy giant beach hats? Do you have one?

As it happens, yes. Is this a concern of yours?

Concern, no. Just trying to get a visual of you

on the beach in Spain…

How’s that working out for you?

Pretty spiffy.

Spiffy? Did you just say spiffy?

I typed it actually. You got something against spiffy?

This explains the old records…

HEY!

I enjoy the old records. You know this…

I do know this…

Are we really going to Spain together?

Yep.

Are you home? I didn’t see the Rover this morning.

Checking up on me?

Perhaps…where are you, Simon?

Have a shoot in LA, driving back in a few days.

Can I see you when I get back?

We’ll see…

I’ll play records for you.

Spiffy.

“So, since things are all completed on the Nicholson project, I was thinking…since I have a jump on the commercial project I’m starting next, and you mentioned before that I could take some time off before we get busy for the holiday season, that, well, maybe I could…”

“Spit it out, Caroline. You trying to ask me if you can go to Spain with Simon?” Jillian demanded, not trying very hard to hide her smile.

“Maybe.” I winced, dropping my forehead to the desk.

“You’re a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. You know I think it’s a good time to take vacation, so why should I tell you whether you should go away with Simon or not?”

“Jillian, to clarify, I’m not going away with Simon. You make it sound like some illicit affair.”

“Right, right, it’s just two young people off to enjoy a little Spanish culture. How could I forget?” Jillian drawled, insinuation all over her face, as well as a little satisfaction. She was enjoying my squirming.

“Okay, okay, so can I go?” I asked, knowing I would never hear the end of it, but past caring.

“Of course you can. But can I just say one thing?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Like I could stop you,” I grumbled.

“You couldn’t, actually. All I ask is that you have a good time, play hard, but take care of him while you’re there, okay?” she asked, her face taking on a seriousness I rarely saw.

“Take care of him? What is he, seven?” I laughed, stifling it immediately when I saw she was not kidding.

“Caroline, this trip will change things. You must know that. And I love you both. I don’t want either of you to get hurt, no matter what transpires while you’re there,” she said softly. I started to make a joke, but I stopped. I knew what she was asking.

“Jillian, I don’t know quite what’s going on between Simon and me, and I’ve no idea what’s going to happen in Spain. But I can tell you, I’m excited about this trip. And I get the sense he is too,” I added.

“Oh, my dear, he’s definitely excited. Just…Oh, never mind. You’re both adults. Go crazy on each other in Spain.”

“First you tell me to be gentle, and now you tell me to go crazy?” I grumbled.

She reached across the desk to pat my hand affectionately. Then she took a deep breath and changed the mood in the room entirely. “Now then, fill me in on where we stand with James Brown. What’s left to be done?”

I smiled and flipped my planner open to the end of the week, when I would be finished with All Things James Brown.

A few nights later I was settling into my couch comfortably with Mr. Clive and Barefoot Contessa when I heard something in the hallway. Clive and I looked at each other, and he jumped off my lap to investigate. I knew Simon wasn’t due home for another day or so based on his texts—and the fact that I might have been counting the days—so I followed Clive to my old post: The Peephole.

As I peered out into the hallway, there was a flash of strawberry-blond hair at Simon’s door. Who was visiting Simon? Was I wrong to stare? What was that package she had? The woman the hair belonged to knocked once, then twice, and then before I knew it, she whirled about and looked directly at my door, curiously staring at my peephole. Not accustomed to anyone staring at my peephole, I froze, eyes unblinking as she appraised my door. She crossed the tiny landing, and rapped soundly on my door. Surprised, I jumped back a little, bumping into my umbrella stand and letting her know there was, in fact, someone home. I turned my face to the side and shouted, “Coming!” Then I proceeded to walk in place as though I was headed for the door. Clive looked on with interest, tossing his head and assuring me I was not nearly as clever as I thought I was.