Lawrence found the source of the sugar sitting on Maizee’s kitchen counter. “Holy lava rocks. What is this?” He picked up the movie theater bucket of popcorn, but it was covered in the most delectable looking caramel he’d ever seen.

“I always bring the leftovers home and make caramel corn,” she said, as if every human being on Earth knew about this and did it.

But Lawrence continued to gaze that the concoction with wonder. “Why have I been throwing away my popcorn for forty-one years?”

Maizee finally laughed, and she scooped up a handful of the caramel corn. “Eat it. It’s not bad.”

“Not bad,” Lawrence echoed, plucking a few pieces out of the bucket and putting them in his mouth. It was sweet and salty, soft and crunchy, everything he wanted in a late night snack. Or a five-thirty p.m. snack.

“This is amazing,” he said, twisting toward Maizee to find her finger-combing out her hair. He wanted to tell her to stop, that he liked the messy look, the wisps of blonde hair spilling out, the way it exposed her neck.

He liked the funky T-shirt and the tight exercise pants. She seemed real, and he craved real after a day of dressed up, stuffy men, frustrating phone calls with his father, and negotiations on a deal that should’ve finalized by five o’clock.

Pushing out a breath, he asked, “Can we sit outside?”

“Rough day?” She went first and bypassed the picnic table where they’d eaten pizza and talked about the flower farm in the hills.

“Actually, yes.” If he couldn’t get her to talk, he’d do it. Opening up last time had helped, and maybe before he left tonight, he could figure out why she’d left in the morning, gone to a movie alone, and then made caramel corn.

She sat in one of two swings in an ancient swing set, the chains creaking with the addition of her weight. Lawrence joined her, but with some measure of trepidation squirreling through him. “I asked Winthrop to come meet with me, because his branch is….”

Lawrence wasn’t quite sure how to classify it—and it wasn’t really any of Maizee’s business anyway. But he wanted to share his life with her, and his work was a big part of his life.

“Failing?” she supplied.

“You knew?”

“I know he struts around the place like he’s you,” she said. “All while more and more people take their money and go somewhere else.”

He pushed himself back with his toes. “That was all the meeting was about. He didn’t mention you, and neither did I.”

“How kind of him,” she bit out. Lawrence looked at her. “He knows I transferred here, to this branch.” Hurt passed through her eyes, and Lawrence wanted to gather it all into his arms and fling it into the ocean, where it would wash away and never bother her again.

She shook her head and looked away. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not wasting any more of my time on Winthrop Porter.”

Lawrence was glad to hear that, but he also heard the irritation and pain in her voice, and he knew without a doubt that she was not ready to fall in love again. He questioned why he’d allowed himself to fall so quickly, and again the idea that she was the perfect woman for him wouldn’t leave his mind.

“Then my father called, and I answered it,” he said, going on to detail the hour-long conversation about the Austin Exchange, and what angle Lawrence might play next. “But I don’t play angles.”

Maizee stalled herself in the swing until they were side-by-side, and she reached for his hand. “You don’t play games, that’s true.” She sounded softer, more like herself. “So what happened?”

“Well, the acquisition didn’t go through today,” he said. “I’ll have to get up early and get on the phone again.” He swung back and forth with her. Back and forth. “I hate talking on the phone.”

She squeezed his hand. “You’re really good at it.”

“How would you know?” he teased. “I always text you.”

“You wrote an article about it once,” she said. “In the company newsletter.”

Lawrence had absolutely no recollection of that, but he didn’t say so. The fact that Maizee knew that added another insight into why she’d placed him so high up on a pedestal. She’d known him first as the CEO, the owner, the boss.

So he’d just have to work at getting her to see him as Lawrence Gladstone, a regular man who happened to have a lot of money. But still a regular man, with fears and worries and dreams.

“So I think I’d like to try sea kayaking next,” he said.

“Yeah?” She beamed at him.

“Yeah. But we can have the Coast Guard on speed dial, right?”

Maizee laughed, tipping her head back and revealing that lovely neck once more. But Lawrence didn’t join her, because he really wasn’t kidding. He’d call one of his SEAL buddies, just to let him know when they were going out and where they’d be.

He was cautious, that was all.

Oh, and he wanted to live to kiss Maizee again too.

They swung for a bit longer, and Maizee finally stood up. “You hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good, take me to dinner.” She skipped ahead of him into the house, and by the time he entered through the back door, she was gone. He knew right where she was though: changing her clothes, and freshening up her makeup, and putting on her jewelry.

Sure enough, she came down the hall ten minutes later looking like she was ready to attend her best friend’s wedding. While Lawrence liked this sight of her too, the tight pants would’ve been fine.

“Do you like dressing up?” he asked as they left through the front door.

“Sometimes,” she said, a guarded edge in her voice.

“What about just to go to a taco truck on the beach?” he asked. “Do you need heels for that?”

“I’m not wearing heels,” she said. “My ankle still isn’t at a hundred percent.”

Lawrence exhaled, wishing he knew how to frame this conversation. He opened the passenger door for her and walked around the front, his mind churning. Behind the wheel, and driving down to the beach, he tried again. “I wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t change.”

“Lawrence,” she said, and he thought it might be one of the first times she’d said his name. He didn’t like that it carried a warning undercurrent, but he pressed on anyway.

“I’m just wondering, Maizee. Why do you get all dolled up?”

“Is it wrong if I want to look my best in public?”

“Not if it’s you who wants it.”

She reached down to her feet for her purse and fiddled with it on her lap, finally pulling out a stick of gum. “I do.”

“And I don’t think so.” He parked the car across the street from Manni’s noting the long line. He’d forgotten about Manic Mondays, where the mahi mahi tacos were buy one get one free.

Didn’t matter. He didn’t have anywhere else to be. With anyone else, he thought, slipping a little further toward being in love with Maizee.

“Winn didn’t—Winthrop liked it when I looked nice,” she finally said, holding perfectly still in the passenger seat.

A slow anger began in Lawrence’s gut. “He told you that?”

“He suggested the earrings I should wear with a certain sweater,” she said, her voice robotic now. “He bought my shoes most of the time. He once pulled me into his office to say I’d worn the wrong pair with my skirt. He was….”

“A jerk,” Lawrence said, quickly adding, “Sorry.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You’re right. He was a jerk. I just didn’t know it at the time. I was so desperate to please him.”

Lawrence touched her arm, hoping to get her attention, get her to look at him. She swung her head toward him in slow motion, her beautiful blue eyes too watery for his liking. “You should get to be you.” He leaned his head toward hers until their foreheads touched. “I like you just how you are.”

“You keep saying that,” she whispered. “And it makes me think you’re insane.” She half-laughed, half-sobbed, quickly leaning away from him and swiping at her eyes. “This is ridiculous. Let’s go get a burrito.” She got out of the car in a hurry after that, and Lawrence gave her a few seconds alone before he got out too.

He didn’t want to push her too hard, push her too far away. But he couldn’t help linking his fingers through hers and saying, “Then I guess I’m insane.”

She didn’t answer, and Lawrence was smart enough to drop it at that point. But her confession and emotional display had only convinced him of one thing: He would show her and tell her he liked her how she was until she believed him, until she knew how wonderful she was—with or without makeup and earrings.

Lawrence couldn’t get the deal on Austin Exchange closed during the next day. Or even the next week.

In fact, three weeks went by before their negotiations felt less than strained and sometimes downright hostile. At some point, Lawrence thought he’d lose the deal completely, and he couldn’t imagine having to tell his father about that.

He threw out all his notes and made new ones. Talked to everyone he’d spoken with previously and dug up anyone new that he could. He spent most evenings with Maizee, but he was afraid he was poor company, especially because he showed up with food, they ate, and she made him something with a lot of chocolate in it.

He was comfortable with her, and she didn’t seem to mind him crashing on her couch or in her backyard hammock and then baking for him while he went over sheets and sheets of numbers, re-read emails, or made late-night phone calls to contacts all over the US.

At the beginning of the fourth week, the tension in Lawrence’s neck required an expensive massage therapist, but he’d hit a major breakthrough. Daniel Austin had taken his sweet time to review Lawrence’s new proposal and had responded to his email with four words that made all of Lawrence’s sleepless nights worth it.

When can we talk?

He whooped, right there in his office, his first thought to run downstairs and share this news with Maizee. He’d gotten very good at walking past her office with nothing more than a friendly wave, though if anyone at the branch had bothered to drive by her house, they’d find his Benz in the driveway almost every evening.

He quickly tapped out a response—My schedule is wide open. I can call you anytime. Just let me know—and practically ran down the stairs, swinging around to enter Maizee’s office with a “You will not believe the—”

Email I just got died on his lips as he realized Maizee had customers in her office. “I’m so sorry.” He backed out of the office, both hands up in a general display of I apologize.

He caught Maizee’s eye, and she couldn’t be more surprised than if he’d dropped to one knee and proposed.

His excitement built up inside him, and he couldn’t stand to wait around in the lobby. So he strode out, his smile practically bursting off his face. He checked his email to see if Daniel had responded and found a bench just down from the bank that was drenched in shade.

He sat down, and said to the older woman there, “I just got a really great email.”

She stared at him like he might be an alien invader and actually scooted down a little bit.

“I mean, you probably won’t care, but it was a great email for me.”

The woman got up and walked away, leaving Lawrence to check his phone again to see if Daniel had responded. Still nothing. But it was a glorious day in Getaway Bay, with an ocean breeze, and the sound of laughter and the ocean waves in the distance. If he walked down the road another block and turned south, he’d be able to see the beach, but he stayed right where he was in the shade.

About ten minutes later, Daniel still hadn’t responded, but Lawrence’s phone buzzed, indicating a text. Where’d you go?

From Maizee.

That manic smile came back, and Lawrence tapped on the phone icon to call her. Before the call could connect, another one came in.

Daniel.

Lawrence almost dropped his phone in his haste to end the call with Maizee and open the one with Daniel.

“Mister Austin,” he said smoothly, glad the swooping in his stomach couldn’t be conveyed through phone lines and across oceans.

“I liked your last proposal,” Daniel said, no hello or formality in sight.

Thank goodness, Lawrence thought but didn’t say. “What did you like about it?” he asked instead. His father had taught him that. Listen more than you talk. Ask more than you answer. Be more offensive than defensive.

“I think the price is finally right,” he said. “But I’m not keen on point seven.”

Lawrence had been through the proposal forward and backward. “The health insurance? Everyone on your team will be seamlessly integrated at Gladstone Financial.”

“No, the severance insurance for me and my family.”

Lawrence blinked. “It’s very standard to offer the twelve months,” he said. “And then it’s up to you.”

“That’s the part I don’t like.”

Of course he didn’t. But Lawrence was paying almost six hundred million dollars for a company worth five and a half, and he wasn’t going to give Daniel Austin and his family unlimited health insurance until the day they died.

“I can offer eighteen months,” Lawrence said. “But I’m afraid that’s all.”

The silence on the other end of the line unnerved him, and he almost blurted that he’d give Daniel whatever he wanted. But he held that tongue, like his father had taught him. Silence didn’t always mean something bad. And he knew how to be silent too.

“My son has recently been diagnosed with juvenile diabetes,” he said, his voice on the quiet end, almost like he’d moved the phone away from his mouth to speak.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Lawrence’s phone rumbled and beeped, the indication that another call was coming in. It was probably Maizee, and a hint of anxiety passed through him.

“My wife is worried about moving insurances so soon after the diagnosis,” Daniel said.

Lawrence said nothing, hoping Daniel would have a solution to his own problem.

“I need four years,” he said. “And I’m willing to take four million off the purchase price to get it.”

Lawrence let another beat of silence go by, and then he said, “I can do that. I’ll get my lawyer to draw up the changes.”

“Thank you,” Daniel said, and it wasn’t hard to hear the relief in the man’s voice. “You’re a good man, Lawrence.”

The call ended, and Lawrence stood next to the bench, feeling many things that didn’t fully settle.

He’d done it. Negotiated one of the biggest deals in Gladstone Financial’s history, and he’d helped someone too.

Instead of calling Maizee, he headed back to the bank, ready to celebrate with her face-to-face.