Home.

And the perfect spot for the new improved Babycakes Bakery. Time to do her part to make it happen. She smoothed her white blouse and red pencil skirt—the outfit she’d packed in deference to Valentine’s Day—and realized she’d chosen the exact same outfit she’d worn on her infamous final day at Las Ventanas. Nice job, Chelsea. When it comes to repeating past mistakes, you get all the details right.

Too many memories threatened. She turned quickly and headed for the door, but it swung open before she reached it. Laurie burst out onto the sidewalk and enveloped Chelsea in a tight hug. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

Chelsea wrapped her arms around her best friend and returned the hug, blinking quickly when her eyelids started to prickle. “It’s good to see you too.”

Laurie eased away and gave her a stern look. “Don’t cry on me. If you start, I’ll start, and I’m almost as ugly a crier as you.”

“I won’t.” She forced her lips into a smile. “No crying. Not when we have something important to celebrate.” She held up the bonus check and danced it in front of Laurie’s face. “A Valentine’s Day surprise for you. I hear there’s a great opportunity to invest in a local business. I want in.”

“Oh my God, you did it!” Blond curls bounced as Laurie jumped up and down, and then hugged her again. Just as suddenly, she stopped and pinned Chelsea with a serious look. “This is a lot of money, and I know how hard you worked to earn it. You sure you want to risk it on me?”

“I want to invest it in you,” she corrected. “I don’t see a lot of risk. Babycakes thrived right up until the day it burned down. You know what you’re doing. You’ll have it thriving again in no time.”

“We’ll have it thriving again. You pay in, I insist on making you a partner.” She held out her hand. “Deal?”

Chelsea shook on it. “Deal.” A small, humor-challenged laugh escaped her. “Good timing for me considering I’m soon to be unemployed again.”

“Unemployed? I thought you were winging off to Tahiti next.”

“I thought so too, but when I met with the Templetons this morning, and they started discussing the new resort, I just…” She trailed off and stared at the ocean. “I couldn’t go through with it. I don’t want to move to Tahiti. I don’t want to stay in Maui. I miss Montenido. All I really want to do is come home.” She exhaled the confession, faced her friend, and prepared for one more. “When it comes to fresh starts, I fail.”

“How can you say that? If you don’t want to move to Tahiti, don’t move to Tahiti, but I count at least fifty thousand reasons you’re not a failure.” Hazel eyes flashed, but then clouded as they slowly assessed her. “Come on.” Laurie took her arm, pulled her into the empty store, and gave her the patented Laurie Peterson take-no-bullshit stare. “Okay, tell me what’s really going on, partner.”

“I figured on being a silent partner.”

“Nice try, but no. Not when you’re standing there like the answer to my prayers and calling yourself a failure. How have you failed?”

Sunbeams streamed through the twin front windows, revealing the weathered wood walls and floor of what Chelsea remembered as an art gallery. Dust floated in the columns of light, weightless and careless, and in stark contrast to her heavy thoughts. “I knew the rules. I told myself I wanted nothing from Rafe except fun, attraction, and great sex, and then I went and fell in love with him. I didn’t guard my heart.”

“Oh, honey.” Laurie squeezed her arms. “Maybe he won it, fair and square?”

“No. He wasn’t even trying for it.” She sank her fingers into her hair and pulled it back from her face, letting the slight tug in her scalp offset the pain in her chest. “That’s the most pathetic part. Rafe never led me down a false path. He was very upfront about what he wanted, and what he had to offer. He didn’t promise more.”

“Have you asked for more?”

“I don’t need to ask. I got a very clear answer last night when he proposed we take up where we left off whenever he’s in Maui.”

“That’s not good-bye.”

Chelsea resumed staring out the window. “It’s not a commitment either, and I can’t settle for less and still respect myself. It’s not Rafe’s fault. He’s not a bad person, and he’s not trying to hurt me, and he didn’t ask me to fall in love with him. I did that all on my own.” She kicked the toe of her red sling-back against the scarred wood baseboard. “That’s why I say my fresh start is a failure. You told me to guard my heart, but I’m too much of a lost cause to follow good advice.”

She heard Laurie approach, and then felt the weight of her friend’s arm around her shoulders. “We’re quite a pair, you know?”

Chelsea leaned her head against Laurie’s shoulder. “How do you figure?”

“You can’t guard your heart, and I can’t stop guarding mine.”

She raised her head and looked at her friend. “I’d rather be like you. It’s less painful.”

“No.” Laurie sighed. “I’m beginning to think it’s just a chicken-shit way of not getting hurt, but here’s the really bad news. It doesn’t work.”

A surprising admission, considering Laurie rarely acknowledged anyone had the power to hurt her.

“At any rate, guarding your heart doesn’t involve denying honest feelings,” she continued. “Your love is valuable. Treating something so valuable like a dirty secret sells you short. Dig up some courage and tell him how you feel. Maybe he feels the same way.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Maybe he doesn’t,” Laurie conceded with a tilt of her head, “but he hasn’t played you, and he’s earned your honesty. You both deserve that much.”

“All right.” She flattened a hand against her middle, hoping to release the knot in her stomach. “At the very least, I owe him an apology for running out this morning like I did.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m due at Las Ventanas to collect final signatures on the sale agreements. Afterward, I’ll ask for five minutes to apologize and then I’ll just”—she made a sweeping gesture with her hands—“lay my heart at his feet.”

“Atta girl. And remember, you’re the prize.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Rafe held the door to the meeting room open for Arden and their father. From the corner of his eye he saw another figure come around the corridor and step into the hall. Chelsea. He turned to his father. “Call Vanessa on the Polycom. She’ll put us into the conference with the rest of the board.”

“May I prepare a cup of coffee for you as well?”

Luc’s dry remark barely registered. “Thanks,” he said, and started down the hall, his attention on Chelsea. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, but you know my vote. You have my proxy if you need to make the motion without me.”

Her steps slowed as he closed the distance between them. He read apprehension in her big brown eyes.

“Miss Wayne, a moment of your time before the meeting?”

She fiddled with the legal-sized manila envelope clasped in her hands. “Yes. Certainly, Mr. St. Sebastian.” She looked right, then left, then back at him. “Where did you have in mind?”

A door swung open to his left, and a maid stepped into the corridor holding an armful of table linens.

“Here.” He caught the door before it closed, and held it open for her. “Step into my office.”

She hesitated, and gave him an odd look. Did she want him to go in first? He walked in, and found himself in the supply closet where they’d first met. Fine by him. He considered their first meeting a screaming success, aside from the part when she’d called him Paul.

“Chelsea!”

Speak of the devil. Barrington’s voice sailed down the hall. She turned, paled, and dodged his attempt at a hug, but the evasive maneuver didn’t send any hints to the man. “You came back. I knew you would. We need to talk.” He took her arm, stepped into the closet, and pulled her in as well.