One month later…

When I arrive at Monetti’s, Rob, Adam, Brian, and Justin are all already gathered around a large table in the corner. Adam and Justin are talking and laughing while Nick, the owner of the restaurant, fills up wine glasses, and Rob and Brian are embroiled in a serious discussion that’s apparently about the attachment on the back of Rob’s wheelchair that Brian is leaning over to take a closer look at. I walk up to the table, where Nick stops what he’s doing and pauses to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek before going back toward the kitchen.

I take a seat between Adam and Justin, who immediately pull me into their conversation, while Rob and Brian continue discussing Rob’s new accessory, which turns out to be some sort of power assist device that matches your pushing speed and allows you to essentially coast along hands-free, without pushing, but still stop easily whenever you want to, and can also be controlled entirely using a bluetooth-enabled watch that looks a lot like my Fitbit.

“Guess spinal tumors are good for one thing,” Rob says, huffing out a laugh. “I’ve been trying to get my insurance to cover one of these for a while now, but they’re too expensive and they just wouldn’t budge on it.” He pauses and turns to Brian, who looks ready to say something, but Rob cuts him off. “And before you say you would have paid for it if you’d known I needed it, I didn’t want you to. You’ve done plenty for me already.”

I almost laugh out loud, thinking about how Rob is probably going to have a hell of a time keeping Brian from throwing money at all of his problems, no matter how minor, now that they’ll be around each other for at least 40 hours each week. But that’ll be between the two of them to sort out.

Rob and Brian are still talking shop -- already trying to engineer ways to come up with a competing product for a lower cost that more people would have access to -- when our server appears with a basket of bread and a huge bowl of salad. Brian barely pauses long enough to thank her before he and Rob continue going on about smartwatches and possible improvements that could give them a competitive edge.

"Is this what I have to look forward to?" I tease. "The two of you constantly geeking out about adaptive tech? I can see I'll have my job cut out for me trying to make sure we actually stay in the advertising business."

"Someone has to keep them in line," Adam says, winking at me.

"Though that might be a full time job in itself," Justin adds.

"Twat," Brian mutters, giving Justin a playful shove on the shoulder as he reaches for the bread basket and puts two slices on his plate.

"Hey," Justin says. "Save some for the rest of us."

"I think someone forgot who's paying for this meal," Brian smirks. "Besides, we can get more. Honestly I'll be surprised if Nick lets me pay for anything."

I know that's been par for the course ever since Justin paid to have a ramp installed out front and an accessible bathroom put in. Nick never charges Brian or Justin for anything that I've seen, not even the catering he sometimes does for our client lunches, and Brian keeps Nick's ads running on the local television stations and in all the free newspapers and keeps "forgetting" to send the bill. But that's yet another thing that's just Brian -- do something nice for him, and he'll keep finding sneaky ways to try to even the score.

As we all chow down on what I'm fairly sure is some of the best Italian food in the city, I find myself thinking about how different my life would be had I not taken that administrative assistant job at Ryder all those years ago, working for an ad exec that I'd already been warned was extremely tough on his assistants. I didn't know what to expect, but Brian and I hit it off right away. I think he respected the fact that I was always honest with him, and I didn't just let him run over me. I wasn't afraid of him. We made a great team, and I could see, even back then, exactly what kind of person he was underneath the intimidating exterior.

That's why I tipped Brian off when Gardner Vance tried to pitch Brian's campaign to Remsen and pass it off as his own. It's why I wanted to be in on the ground floor when he started his own firm. It's why I knew with one-hundred percent certainty that he would succeed, against all odds. And it's why I knew that even after a devastating injury, he'd be back, and he'd find some way to be better than ever.

Because when you're Brian Kinney, failure isn't an option.

But sometimes, the stubborn nature that makes that statement true is also Brian's kryptonite, and that's when he needs a friend -- someone he respects, who will tell him like it is and make him listen, even when he doesn't want to. That's my role, and Justin's role, and I know it's been Rob's role too, in the not-so-distant past. And it's the same role Brian plays for me. Because honestly, we're a lot alike, and that just might be a part of our magic.

We're not just coworkers; we're friends. Maybe that's our secret ingredient -- we take care of each other. Now, Rob is a part of that too, and I couldn't be happier to be welcoming him to our team.

I also know that between Rob's passion for helping people and Brian's drive to succeed, these two will be unstoppable.

We've all had our struggles, as people do -- that's just life. You never know what it's going to throw at you. But if you surround yourself with the right people, you'll find your way out and through. And as we all sit around the table, talking and laughing and eating too much lasagna and chasing it with some seriously delicious lemon cake, I know we've all found our people. And I'm so thankful that they've come into my life.

When the cake is all gone (and Brian has finished his very own slice that Justin practically made him take, after stating in no uncertain terms that he was not sharing his), Nick opens a fresh bottle of wine for our table, and we settle in to listen to the string quartet that plays here every Sunday night, knowing that tomorrow morning represents the dawn of a new era in the life of Kinnetik -- the business Brian started with a handful of us who believed in him and his work, that's grown into a powerful ad agency with two offices in two different cities, with so much more potential growth on the horizon, not the least of which is the division soon to be known as Kinnected.

As the wine is poured and the string quartet is just starting to warm up, Brian raises his glass in a toast.

"To business, success, and to always getting exactly what we want," he says, clinking his glass first against Rob's, then Justin's and Adam's, and finally mine, with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

I take a sip of my wine and smile, giving Brian a subtle wink that's intended to say, message received. The past couple of months may not have gone as planned, and though it all worked out in the end and I did get what I wanted, I'm still not sure I could have gotten through it without the support of the man Marty Ryder warned me about all those years ago.

It's funny how the universe puts the right people in your life -- the ones who will be vital to your very existence -- even though you may not realize their significance at the time.

Sometimes we get what we want, and sometimes we don't, but there's one thing that I know for sure will always be true -- that this little family I've chosen, and that's chosen me, will always have my back, just as I'll always have theirs.