Reese's heels clicked softly against the polished hardwood floors of her sleek condo. The early morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the open-plan living room in warm streaks of gold. Her laptop hummed quietly atop the white-quartz countertop sitting beside a steaming cup of tea that filled the air with the soothing scent of chamomile.

Her phone buzzed incessantly against the counter. Notifications from potential clients, inquiries about listings, and even more mentions of the infamous masquerade event three months ago. Despite her efforts to move forward, the internet refused to let her forget. The headlines still popped up occasionally—"The Event of the Year" or "Exclusive Look at the Greys' Masquerade Gala That Redefined Real Estate." Most writers had no clue that it had been more sales strategy to discard of the property the Greys once shared than a haughty social event. But worse of all, every article featured Christian's face.

"Loki," Reese called softly, looking around for her elusive Russian Blue cat.

He emerged from the shadows with a luxurious stretch, his silver fur catching the morning light as he padded over to her. Reese bent down, scratching gently behind his ears. "Ready for breakfast, handsome?"

Loki blinked at her lazily, his tail flicking as if to say, "Finally."

As she prepared his food, her phone buzzed again. She glanced at the screen: a text from Naomi, of course.

7:25 AM Naomi:Lunch today? Or are you too busy selling dreams in the hills?

Reese chuckled, shaking her head as she typed back a quick reply.

7:27 AM Reese:Always time to eat. Noon at The Alfred?

Her fingers hovered over the phone for a moment as her thoughts wandered. It had been a whirlwind few weeks, and outside of work, most of her time had been spent with Collin. Since the jazz festival, he'd been making every effort to show her that he had changed. Dinner dates, easy conversations, and gentle reminders of why she had once fallen in love with him.

She smiled faintly, her heart softening. It felt familiar but different, like slipping into a favorite sweater she thought she'd lost. And yet, in the quiet moments, Christian's shadow lingered. The memory of his intensity, his touch, and the heat of their last night together haunted her thoughts. However it was actually the way he had abruptly dismissed her when Ana reappeared that truly haunted her more than she liked to admit.

Shaking her head, Reese downed the last of her tea and grabbed her purse and keys and headed ti her first showing of the day. Focus, Reese. Christian Grey isn't thinking about you.

By noon, Reese was seated on the sunny patio of The Alfred, a bustling sandwich shop nestled in the heart of West Hollywood. The hum of conversations mingled with the clatter of dishes as Naomi arrived, her signature red lipstick gleaming and her energy as magnetic as ever.

"Tell me everything," Naomi said, sliding into the seat across from Reese.

Reese stirred her hot cocoa, the warm steam curling around her face. "Everything about what?"

"Oh, don't play coy," Naomi teased, leaning forward with an eager grin. "You and Collin. You haven't really said much since the jazz festival."

Reese sighed, setting her cup down. "We're taking things slow. Talking, catching up. It's... nice."

"Nice?" Naomi's brow shot up. "Girl, 'nice' is what you say about a blind date your mom set up. This is Collin. The man you almost married."

Reese shrugged, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "He's different now. More thoughtful. More present. Therapy, he says."

Naomi tilted her head, studying her friend. "And you believe him?"

Reese hesitated, her eyes drifting to the palm-lined street beyond the café. "I want to. I need to believe people can change."

Naomi reached across the table, her hand resting on Reese's. "Just make sure he's the one doing the work this time. You're not his redemption project."

"Oh, trust me," Reese said with a laugh, "I'm letting him take the lead."

Her phone buzzed against the table, vibrating loudly enough to draw Naomi's attention.

"That him?" Naomi asked, her brow raised in curiosity.

Reese glanced at the screen and smiled. "It is."

12:32 PM Collin:Can I steal you away tonight? I found a place that does live acoustic sets on Thursdays.

Her fingers hesitated before typing back.

12:35 PM Reese:As long as it's not jazz—I think we've hit our quota for now.

12:36 PM Collin:Noted. Pick you up at 7.

"Oh, is that a smile?" Naomi teased, leaning back with mock surprise.

"It is," Reese admitted, her cheeks warming. "I'm telling you, it feels different now. Familiar but... better."

Naomi leaned closer, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Have you slept with him yet?"

"Naomi!" Reese exclaimed, nearly spilling her drink.

"What?" Naomi said innocently, shrugging. "I'm just asking. Heisyour ex-fiancé."

"No," Reese said firmly. "We haven't slept together. We're taking things slow, remember?"

"Good," Naomi said with a nod. "Sex complicates everything. And you, my friend, do not need complications."

Reese's gaze drifted for a moment, her mind pulling her into that passionate night with Christian. She knew she shouldn't have let her guard down. Sex definitely complicated things and her body ached for him.

"You okay?" Naomi asked, her tone softening.

"Yeah," Reese said, shaking her head as if to clear the thoughts away. "Anyway, I wanted to show you this listing. I thought Redwood might want to take it on."

She pulled up the listing on her phone: a stunning Mediterranean-style villa perched on a quiet cul-de-sac in the Hills. Warm terracotta tones, sprawling gardens, and elegant archways made it one of the most picturesque properties she'd represented.

Naomi studied the photos carefully. "Okay, it's gorgeous. But... why are you offering it to Redwood? What's wrong with it?"

Reese sighed, setting her phone down. "It's not selling."

Naomi's eyes widened. "What? I thought you had tons of interest in your listings."

"I do," Reese said, her voice dropping. "But most of the interest is from people hoping I'll host another event or wanting to gossip about Christian Grey."

Naomi winced. "Yikes. Has anything sold since Melrose?"

"Just a few leasing contracts," Reese admitted. "Nothing high-profile in months. I thought going solo would be easier than this."

Naomi reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. "You'll get through it, Reese. The market's slow everywhere. You've already made a name for yourself—clients will come. Just don't give up."

Reese let out a heavy sigh, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Thanks, Naomi. Here's hoping."