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Los Angeles, on the other hand, was warm and mountainous and the skies were blue. The luxury cars stacked bumper-to-bumper on the 405 freeway, the city just as colorful, eclectic—and busy—as Emerald remembered.

She wound down the window of the car, feeling the sun on her skin, the cool breeze (however polluted), and couldn't help but smile.

As her driver cruised off an exit and onto the Pacific Coast Highway, she caught her first glimpse of the ocean. Vast and bright blue, the sky above cloudless. The sea breeze wafted through the window, and she was overcome with such excitement and peace, she actually laughed aloud. In that moment, Emerald knew she'd made the right decision.

The quaint Spanish beach house in Malibu Emerald had rented was decorated with patterned tile and pottery, mismatched pillows in bright turquoise and yellow and pink. It was a one bedroom and a bit small, but had a grand piano in the living room for her to write at, which looked right out at the beach. In fact, the bungalow was situated right on the sand, just a short walk from the shore.

Emerald propped her bags in the bedroom and flopped on the bed, suddenly overcome with the realization that she had absolutely nothing to do except write a record. For the first time in ages, she could do whatever she wanted.

After receiving her grocery order, she located a blender in the lime green kitchen and mixed up a virgin margarita — she wasn't drinking for the time being — and sipped it on the terrace, watching the sun begin to set. She pulled out her phone and FaceTimed Bill.

"Oh my God, you're even more gorgeous when you're in California," Bill whined as soon as he answered the call. He was on the couch, wearing a grey t-shirt that hugged his shoulders.

"Wh- What does that even mean?" Emerald laughed.

"You're like, glowing. It's not fair." Bill deadpanned.

"Get a thousand-dollar facial," Emerald stroked her face dramatically. "Maybe you'll have skin like me."

"Maybe It's Maybelline," Bill sang off-key.

"I miss you, freakshow!" Emerald groaned.

"I miss you too. When can I see you?" Bill bit his lip. It lit Emerald's stomach on fire.

She sighed. "I have to do some work. When your sexy ass comes around I get distracted."

"Then stop writing music and just become my sugar baby instead."

"Bill!" Emerald exclaimed.

"Come on!" he continued to say as she cracked up. "It's what the tabloids already think anyway. Just give me some lovin' and I'll buy you a handbag."

"Shut up or I'll hang up on you," Emerald composed herself, wiping a tear that had escaped from laughing so hard. He had a way of doing that to her.

"But really," she continued, "Within the next couple of days. If you're free."

Bill nodded. "I have the kids tonight and tomorrow, but after that I'm free. They're about to come over for dinner, so I should probably get going. As much as I love to stare at your inhumanly symmetrical face."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Em, my dear, everything I say to you is a compliment."

Emerald rolled her eyes and kissed the air. He kissed it back.

"See you soon, dork." she said before hanging up.

"Is that my new nickname?"

Emerald smiled for two full minutes after the phone call ended, bewildered by the fact that Bill could make her stomach do such serious acrobatics just from a FaceTime call.

She made her way to the kitchen and whipped up some tofu lettuce cups, then ate them on the couch while watching Big Little Lies. Emerald drifted into a peaceful sleep in the tribal-patterned bed by 9 PM.

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On Tuesday, Emerald decided she wanted to get a dog. She'd had the idea in the back of her mind for ages, wishing she could become a fur-baby mom but being too busy with touring or having too small an apartment, but now she was ready.

Bill was coming over that night for dinner. She'd made shrimp pasta and a lemon earl grey cake for dessert, loving the odd little green kitchen she had for the time-being.

When he knocked on the door she adjusted her skirt and fixed her hair, then opened it to see Bill with a bouquet of sunflowers. He lifted his mouth into a smile before she crashed hers into it, so happy to be near him, to be able to actually touch him. He replied with equal force and excitement, tangling his free hand in her hair.

"Well hello," Bill chuckled. "I got you flowers."

"They're so beautiful! Thank you." she took the bouquet, sniffing the beautiful floral scent. Emerald hooked his arm and led him inside, where she had candles burning and quiet music playing.

"They'll look great in my crazy colorful home."

"Wow," Bill breathed, taking in the bright boho living room in front of him. "Is that a green kitchen?"

"That it is, babe."

They ate and drank (sparkling water) on the terrace, watching the moon shine on the ocean, talking and laughing for hours on end. Emerald found some blankets to keep them warm as they kissed and cuddled and watched the sea glimmer outside.

The two eventually went to bed, where they made love twice. Afterward, Bill's arm slung over her stomach, and he pressed a kiss into her temple.

"I want a dog," Emerald said, breathing heavily.

Bill laughed into her neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down her spine. "Of course you do."

"Do you want to go to the shelter with me tomorrow?"

Bill's hand draped over the soft skin of her belly, over the slight valley in the middle. He exhaled. "Emerald Rowan, I'd go anywhere with you."

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