I finally feel like me again.

I RETURN TO SF THE DAY AFTER I DO THE R2R2R. THERE’S NO sense in staying. It’s not like I’m going to do that run over again for kicks. My body can’t handle it. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck and then pounded by a gang of pissed-off gorillas.

I’m looking at maps of the Grand Canyon on my phone while icing my knee and popping ibuprofen like candy when the intercom buzzes. I have a visitor.

Instantly, even though it seems like I knew her in another lifetime, I wonder if it’s Anna. There’s no chance that we’re going to get back together again. I’m not signing up to be her secret lover or some shit while she keeps seeing that asshole. But my stupid heart doesn’t care about that. It jumps like an excited puppy because I might get to see her again.

I make my creaky joints take me to the intercom, and I don’t let myself hesitate before pressing the button. “Hello?”

“Let me up. We need to talk,” says a familiar male voice—Michael. Definitely not Anna. Yeah, I’m disappointed, but I knew this talk with Michael was coming. I’ve had time to come to a decision and make peace with it.

Without a word, I push the button to let him into the building, unlock the door to my apartment, and limp back to my couch so I can continue icing my knee.

My doorbell rings in a few minutes, and, like I knew he would, Michael tries the door. Upon finding it unlocked, he lets himself in and comes to sit on the sofa next to me.

“Hey,” I say, looking up from my maps. “What’s up?”

“Seriously? ‘What’s up?’ ” Michael asks. “Where the hell have you been? Things are in full swing with the acquisition, and you email me out of the blue saying ‘Taking time off to go running, be back Wednesday’? I tried calling you a hundred times.”

“Sorry, there isn’t reception in the Grand Canyon.”

Michael’s eyes bug out like he wants to murder me.

“I take it you want to talk about the new condition on the LVMH deal,” I say.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I had to hear it from one of our lawyers. He was panicking,” Michael says.

“There’s nothing to panic about,” I say calmly. I can’t say I feel good about LVMH’s decision, but it doesn’t tear me up anymore.

Michael runs his fingers through his disheveled hair and breathes a sigh of relief. “I knew you’d have it figured out.”

I smile at how confident he is in me. He’s a good friend.

“So what did you do? How are we working around it?” he asks.

“We’re not working around it. I’m going to step down,” I say. He opens his mouth, looking like he’s about to have a blowup of some kind, so I add, “In the beginning, I was pissed about it. This isn’t what I envisioned, you know? I wanted it to be you and me until the end. But that doesn’t make sense. This is a great opportunity, and I want you to make it as far as you can possibly go.”

“You’re talking like you’re already gone,” Michael says in disbelief.

“Well, I’m not. I’m sticking around until everything’s transitioned over to the new guy, whoever he is. Probably some nice old dude with white hair and a house in the Hamptons. But after that I’m going to leave the company, yeah.” It would suck being demoted while taking orders from the guy who took over my old job. Not going to happen. I’d rather clean outhouses. Maybe I’ll get into the restaurant business. I can see myself doing something like that.

“If that’s the case, then we’re turning them down,” he says.

I release a long breath. “I knew you’d say that, but you need to be rational about this. Not only are they going to give us both a shitload of money, but they’re going to—”

“No.” He gets off the couch and paces agitatedly around my living room as he yanks at his hair, giving me angrier and angrier looks every few steps. “If you think for one second that I’m going to let them kick you out, then you have no fucking clue.”

I take the ice pack off my knee and get up so we can talk this out. “Listen—”

“Sit back down and put that ice back on your knee. You’ve been running yourself to death, haven’t you?”

“I’m fine.” But I do sit down and put the ice pack on my knee. “Can you stop being all dramatic about this? This is the right thing to do. I want you to go ahead with the acquisition.”

He looks at me like I’m speaking nonsense. “I like two things about working at MLA. One”—he holds up a finger—“I get to design clothes for kids, and two”—he holds up a second finger—“I get to work with this awesome CEO who also happens to be my best friend. If I lose you, my job automatically loses half the appeal. I’m not letting that happen. This is our company. We call the shots. That means you stay.”

I shake my head, frustrated because he’s not listening, but also, secretly, proud. This is why he’s my best friend. It’s also why I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let him pass on this opportunity. “That isn’t what’s best for the company. You need to take a step back and look at things logically. With the international distribution channels—”

“I’m not listening to this,” Michael says, getting up and striding to the door. “I’m going to go talk to our lawyers and tell them we’re pulling the plug.”

Before I can protest any further, he leaves, slamming the door shut behind him.

I release a resigned sigh, and feeling a little dirty, I pick up my phone and call his wife.

She picks up on the fifth ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me, Quan. Michael just left here a minute ago,” I say.

“Oh, okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Did he tell you that LVMH won’t go through with the acquisition unless I step down?” I ask.

“He did, yes.”

“Well, he’s trying to stop the acquisition from going through even though I’m willing to step down. You can’t let him do that, Stella,” I say.

“You want your share of the buyout?” she asks.

“No. That’s not it at all.” If someone other than her asked that question, I’d be insulted, but I know she doesn’t mean anything by it. She just wants the information. “I want the company to become a global brand. I want Michael to make it big. This is the right choice.”

“I disagree,” she says in a reasonable tone. “Your leadership is half of what’s made the company as successful as it’s been. It’s brash and effective, and you have meaningful relationships with your employees. Another CEO wouldn’t be able to get them to rally for him the way they do for you. Your business partners love you, too. I don’t think they’d want to work with MLA if someone else was at the helm. Plus, have you seen the magazine articles featuring MLA? The press loves featuring you and Michael together.”

I let my head fall back against my couch cushions and groan in exasperation. “I don’t know why they insist on dragging me into that stuff.”

“You’re part of the company’s brand, Quan,” she says simply. “I was very disappointed when I heard LVMH wanted you to step down. It was clear to me then that they don’t know what they’re doing in MLA’s case and will probably destroy something special if they have the chance. Please don’t ask me to convince Michael to go through with the acquisition. He’d be miserable, and it’s not the best thing for the company. I can’t endorse your choice.”