“Got your eye on something sexy?”

“Yeah, a sexy storefront for lease along Ocean Avenue, between the surf shop and the pizzeria. What do you think of Babycakes by the Beach?”

She closed her eyes and pictured the space, envisioned it decked out with a mocha, periwinkle, and cream striped awning and a couple of bistro tables. “I love it.” Just saying the words caused tightness in her throat. She wanted to be there for Laurie this time around just like she had with the first Babycakes, helping paint, to pick out supplies, and set up displays.

Good luck doing that from Tahiti.

“I’m still analyzing the feasibility, but, well, I’ve banked some money picking up catering jobs at Las Ventanas. With your buy-in, and a loan, I think it’s within reach. You okay, Chels? Your voice sounds kind of funny.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, and dug around in her purse for a cough drop. “Just shaking off a touch of the flu.”

“That sucks. For some reason I assumed Maui would be a flu-free zone.”

“I’m living proof to the contrary.”

“Poor baby. If you were here, I’d bring some home-baked chocolate chip cookies to make you feel better.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I already feel better, thanks to Rafe.”

“A cookie from Rafe cures the flu? Wow.”

“Not exactly. The doctor and antivirals he brought to my doorstep might have had something to do with it. He was here last week to help resolve the complication we encountered with the sale.”

“The CEO of St. Sebastian Luxury Resorts dropped everything in the middle of one of the most important deals of his career to nurse you back to health?”

He had. Not a single question about the status of the easement had passed his lips. She’d been the one to bring up the topic. Part of her wanted to turn that into something meaningful about his priorities, but the realist in her understood his actions had more to do with common decency. “He’s the one who got me sick. I figure he felt responsible.”

“Are you sure this thing between you two is strictly casual?”

No. “Of course. What makes you even ask?”

“You used the R-word. Responsible. A quick little hookup doesn’t generally leave anyone feeling responsible for anything. That’s the beauty of it. ‘Responsible’ is a serious word, and a serious feeling.”

“Rafe and I are not serious. I’m not looking for anything serious, remember?”

“Yeah, well, things have a way of finding a girl, even when she’s not looking. Especially when she’s not looking,” Laurie said drily. “You might do a little soul-searching and make sure you’re still content with casual. Make sure he is too, while you’re at it. A guy who shows up at your sickbed in the middle of a business crisis sounds to me like a man looking for more than fun, mutual attraction, and entertaining sex.”

“No soul-searching necessary. Look, I enjoy spending time with him. He…he means something to me.” Her heart beat faster as she said the words. “But Rafe and I always had an expiration date. The sale will close soon. We’ll celebrate, wish each other well, and go our separate ways.” An ache completely at odds with her calm assertion spread through her middle. She leaned against the trunk of a palm and sucked in a deep breath.

“Really? You’re cool watching him waltz out of your life in another few days?”

“I guarded my heart, remember? I’ll be fine. I’m perfectly happy on my own.”

“So you say, but I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t point out one thing right now.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t sound perfectly happy.”

Feb. 13

11:25 a.m.

Chelsea,

One of the registration girls told a new guest to stop by the pool for a lei. He misunderstood, and…well…I took the liberty of ordering a sign to remind guests we require swimsuits in the pool area at all times. Enjoy L.A. Everything here is under control.

Lynette

“Is there something wrong with your drink, Miss Wayne?”

The flight attendant’s question pulled Chelsea’s attention away from the article she scrolled through on her phone. She held her coffee cup halfway to her lips. How long had she been sitting like that? Long enough to attract the flight attendant’s attention. Bringing the cup the rest of the way to her lips, she deliberately took a sip. “It’s fine. Thank you.”

The woman smiled and resumed her duties. Chelsea put her cup down on her tray table with extra care, given her hand shook, and dropped her eyes to the tiny screen again. She couldn’t seem to look away. The picture was like her own personal train wreck.

The Montenido Times article covering the grand opening of St. Sebastian’s Las Ventanas resort included half a dozen photos, but her attention homed in on the shot of Rafe planting a kiss on the flawless cheek of a tall, slender, absolutely stunning woman. Yes, she’d zoomed in on the photo to drink in all the details. The dark-haired beauty faced the camera, her smile so wide, playful, and full of affection Chelsea could practically hear the woman’s laughter through the page.

Their bodies fit together as if they’d embraced a thousand times. Rafe’s profile showed his eye crinkled at the corner, the way it did when he smiled for real. Everything about the picture suggested intimacy. Two gorgeous people having the time of their lives. Enjoying fun, attraction, and…

Did you expect he’d go alone?

I didn’t expect him to look so freaking happy with someone else in his arms.

You didn’t expect to care.

I don’t care…but who is she?

She hit the button and retreated to her icon screen. A name hardly mattered. Knowing wouldn’t erase the hurt, the bone-deep sense of betrayal.

Her inner cynic insisted she should have seen it coming, her romantic track record being what it was. The only difference this time? She didn’t have the right to feel hurt, or betrayed. Rafe was free to see other people. She’d asked for no promises and he’d made her none. But deep down, she’d wanted to believe he was hers alone—at least until the deal closed. And deeper down, in the steep, slippery part of her heart she’d steadfastly avoided visiting, she’d hoped for even more. One picture shattered the fragile and ridiculously inappropriate hope, but the fragments left her bleeding.

She’d paid lip service to keeping her emotions under control, and keeping things casual, but she’d deluded herself. She could travel thousands of miles to get a fresh start, but she couldn’t outrun the truth. She’d fallen for him—the one thing she’d sworn she wouldn’t do. Worse, her desperate heart already hatched a new plan. What if she passed on Tahiti and stayed on at the Maui resort? Maybe they’d still see each other from time to time? If she gave them a chance, he might decide he wanted more. He might—

Stop. You’re pathetic.

God, she was. She closed her eyes and rested her pounding head against the seatback. What was wrong with her?

The answer still eluded her when she deplaned in Los Angeles. She wheeled her carry-on bag through the terminal, lost in a fog of misery until a tall, dark-suited driver put himself directly in front of her.

“Miss Wayne?”

“Yes?” Now she saw his white rectangular sign bearing her name.

“Hello. I’m Daryl. Mr. St. Sebastian sent me to collect you. He’d like you to join him for dinner.”

Hell, no. She couldn’t see Rafe now. Not with her heart crushed like a grape under his careless heel. Tomorrow, for the meeting at Las Ventanas, she’d pull herself together because she had a job to do, but not tonight. Thankfully the Templetons were taking her to dinner. “I’m sorry, I can’t. I have other plans.”

The man smiled, his white teeth flashing against ebony skin. “I believe if you check your emails, you’ll find your calendar has cleared.”

She dug her phone out of her oversize handbag, turned it on and scrolled through her emails. Sure enough, she spotted one from Evelyn.