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Max Rogers picked the wrong day to swagger into my office. Joe had chosen the wrong night to mess with me. And I’d come in to work on a day I should’ve stayed home. Penelope had cried for a good hour after the call ended, and I drank more wine than I should’ve after that. My ibuprofen had barely kicked in when Max burst through the door.

“Do you want to ride with me or follow?” I asked crisply, determined to be professional. This man has the ability to fund your life for a month, I reminded myself. Behave. I closed my eyes and prayed he’d follow.

“I’ll ride with you.” He shrugged.

Stopping mid-stride, I sighed. This was going to be a long day. I held out my hand as I turned to face him. “What if we start over? I’m Victoria, your new realtor. Let me apologize for being less than welcoming.”

“Is that what you call it?” Max rocked on his heels and smirked. “If I weren’t a gentleman, I’d have chosen a far more colorful descriptor.

I stared at him and blinked a few times. “Listen,” I grumbled, “I’m trying to play nice. I woke with a headache brought on by too much wine, caused by my ex-husband.” I huffed. “So, if you could be the first man in my life who doesn’t give me shit, that would be awesome.”

“And thus concludes the formal portion of our relationship.” His shoulders sagged and he held out his hand. “I’m Max. My father sent me to retrieve my younger brother, Bodhi, who is mostly the bane of my existence, the cause of countless sleepless nights, and the reason I took up kickboxing.” He leaned in conspiratorially as he clasped my hand and shook. “I may picture his face while I’m beating the crap out of the thing.” His eyes widened and he glanced down at our hands. “Nice grip. I like that.” He chuckled. “Oh, and you might want to try kickboxing some time too. So cathartic and much kinder to your liver.”

I stiffened. “Thanks, but I’ll stick to wine for now.”

Max glanced around and saw my Porsche Cayenne SUV. “This must be yours.” He walked over to the driver’s side door.

“You get in on that side.” I pointed to passenger side door.

“Yes, but I’m a gentleman…who curses a lot…and when I’m not swearing, I open doors.” He smiled and motioned for me to join him at my vehicle.

This was…new and unusual. Maybe having city people around wouldn’t be such a terrible thing if it meant they’d bring a little class to our town. I was tired of the beer-swilling, loud, arrogant, belching fisherman I usually ran into around the town. “Thank you,” I murmured as I walked to the door he opened as soon as I hit the button on my key fob.

Seconds later, he had shut my door, and joined me inside the vehicle. “I drove around a bit while searching for my brother. Even the most modern buildings appear to be…old.” The disappointment in his voice was obvious. “Is there no market for newer developers?”

As I drove down the street toward the coast, I considered his question. “Well, there aren’t a lot of people here who could afford anything nicer and newer. There haven’t been any developers who’ve tried to invest in our tiny town. Our biggest industries are fish, which include crab, of course. The cannery handles cranberries.”

“That explains the cranberry everything on the menus of various restaurants here.” Max chuckled. “Do you get many tourists?”

I stared ahead and pursed my lips for a moment. “Yes, in the summer, they come for various festivals. They like the quaintness of our town. They talk about how quiet and relaxing it is, even as they stir it up for the locals.”

“I’m sensing you don’t much like tourists.” He cocked his head to the side. “I’d think you’d be rather dependent upon them.”

I shook my head and my nostrils flared. “I depend on no one. I make my own hours. I show homes all over the state. This town doesn’t make or break me.”

Max nodded, but I could feel him studying me, mentally refuting everything I’d said. For some reason, I stayed here. If I was completely honest, I’d admit my weakness. There was a house on the cliff above the ocean. It used to be magnificent, a veritable mansion. I’d admired it for years, saved as much money as I could in the hope that one day I could buy it, renovate it, and live there, my own version of happily ever after. I’d accumulated over fifty thousand dollars when it stopped growing. Little did I know, Joe was skimming money. Then when I wasn’t paying attention, it disappeared altogether - with him. Now, Joe was no loss, but this felt like the death of my dream. And I’d struggled ever since, paying for child care, shortening my hours, and cutting back on my out-of-town showings. My dream seemed so much further away than it was even three years ago.

“Here we are.” I gestured to the row of gray two story condos angled toward the water. “Yes, they are several years old.” I was going to continue my spiel, but Max had hopped out of the vehicle and a second later knocked on my door. When I opened it, he reached for my hand. My brow arched.

“For fuck’s sake, Vicki.” He chuckled. “Take my hand and come show me this condo.”

I stiffened, but slipped out of my seat. Being called Vicki had rubbed me the wrong way ever since Joe started doing it when he was drunk. “Victoria,” I quietly corrected.

“Right.” He grinned. “So, not Vickster, not the Vick-meister, not Vickolini?”

“Nope,” I responded crisply.

With a sigh, Max murmured, “I’m just teasing you, Victoria. Lighten up.”

“Oh, and do you find you’re wildly successful in your business when you’re being playful like this?” My eyes narrowed and my chin jutted out while I waited for his response.

He tugged at his chin seriously, obviously in thinking mode. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly before fixing his gaze on me. “I’ve never done it before.”