Maizee had worked out with Willie to work from home three days a week. He opened her office in the morning as if she were there, but she handled all the online support now, as well as any loans that came in digitally. Polly set up appointments for her when she was in the physical building, and she made sure her door was closed during the times when Lawrence arrived or left.

Once or twice, he left in the middle of the day while she was in her office, and she’d rush to the bathroom or stare at the computer screen intently as if she were solving the hardest puzzle on earth.

He’d never come in, and he’d only texted one time. She’d responded, hoping he’d continue, tell her about the kayaking and what he’d seen. But he’d fallen into silence again, and Maizee didn’t know how to break it.

She looked at her phone, wishing it would brighten with his name and picture on the screen. Roger shifted from his position on her feet, finally getting up and trotting over to the back door.

Maizee heaved herself out of the chair at the dining room table and let the dog out, standing there and inhaling the fresh air for a few minutes. Roger had come back in a while ago, and Maizee had work to do. She should go back in and do it.

She honestly wasn’t sure she could do it for another few hours. And the thought of doing it for another year? A sigh leaked from her chest, and she turned back to the kitchen table, which she’d set up as a home office.

“Gotta keep doing it,” she said as she sat down in front of her laptop. “One more year.” She couldn’t give up nineteen years of retirement savings and all the time she had already put in just because things were hard right now.

So she went through the loans, the emails, the customer service surveys. She filed everything the way she’d been told, and she sent her daily report to Willie.

He texted back with, Great job, Maizee. You’re the best.

He had been highly complimentary of her work since the case had been opened, and Maizee was glad everything had been settled. Winn no longer worked for Gladstone Financial, as he’d had enough years at the company to retire and move on.

Her phone chimed again, this time with Evie’s name on the screen. Tommy and I are going out again tonight. Fourth date. Do you think it’s too early to kiss him?

Absolutely not, Maizee texted back. Did he like your haircut?

I think so? Evie said. He grinned and ran his hand around the back of my neck. I actually thought he’d kiss me then, but he didn’t. #sigh

Definitely kiss him tonight, Maizee said. And if he doesn’t, just ask him when he’s going to so you can stop worrying about it.

Does that work?

In Maizee’s experience, asking a man when he was going to kiss her always led to a kiss, usually only a few minutes later. Definitely that same day. So she texted back, Every time.

Thanks, Maize, Evie sent, and those few minutes of texting became the highlight of Maizee’s day. Heck, probably her entire week.

She stood and put together a quick dinner of pork chops and peas, feeling very un-Hawaiian. But she did eat on the back porch while the sun went down, pondering her mother’s question.

Will you be joining us for Thanksgiving or Christmas?

Maizee didn’t want to go home for the holidays, but the thought of being alone was infinitely worse. Maybe it didn’t matter that she didn’t like being alone. That didn’t mean she wasn’t herself when she was with someone. Did it?

She didn’t think so. She still got dressed, did her hair, and put on makeup just to sit at her kitchen table and answer emails. She was who she was. She was high maintenance with jewelry and makeup and clothing.

So what?

After dinner, she walked Roger and returned home, the quietness in the house almost unnerving. She turned on the Internet radio, navigated a conversation with Hope Sorensen down at Your Tidal Forever, the wedding planning service she’d told her sister Jules about. Since Jules wasn’t here on the island, some things had fallen to Maizee, and she ended up scheduling an appointment to go down to the shop on Monday during lunch to look at fabric samples.

When she entered the shop, she was overwhelmed with the sheer bridal nature of it. Lacy curtains and scented pillows on the seating over to the side. A pretty woman sat at a desk, and she jumped to her feet when Maizee walked in.

“Hello.” A smile stretched her mouth. “Can I help you?”

“I have a meeting with a woman named Hope? About a dress?” She stretched out her hand for the other woman to shake. “I’m Maizee Phelps. It’s for my—”

“Your sister Juliet.” The woman nodded. “I’m Riley, and we have the green room ready for you.”

“Ooh, the green room,” Maizee said with a smile. “Lead on, Riley.” She followed the other woman who wore pencil skirts and had every hair in place, with silver hoops swinging from her ears. Maizee thought maybe she could be friends with this woman, and as she stepped through a doorway and into a room that had green paint on the walls, a bright green table in the middle of it, and mint green curtains hanging on the window, she knew instantly that she’d be hiring Your Tidal Forever to plan her wedding. If she ever made it that far in a relationship, that was.

“Here you are,” she said. “Ash and Hope will be in soon.” Riley flashed a smile and backed out of the room. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure, I’ll take some water.”

Riley nodded and left completely. She’d been gone maybe two seconds before the door opened again and a petite woman dwarfed with white fabrics entered. Maizee lunged forward to help her, and the woman who introduced herself as Ash Fox, the dress designer, spread out the cloth on the table. It looked even whiter against the green of the table.

A moment later, another dark-haired woman entered and said, “Oh, Ash, you’re here. Good. Hello, Maizee.”

“You must be Hope.” Maizee shook her hand too. “Let me call my sister.” She opened her video chat app and pressed the only contact she had in it: Jules. They’d spent the last couple of days getting things set up and practicing.

“Hey,” Jules chirped, perfectly put together for this call with her wedding planner. “Hi, Hope. Let me see Ash.”

Maizee held the phone so Jules could talk with her people, and then Ash went through the fabrics, showed sketches to Jules, and they talked about what would work with the venue—Jules had decided on the backyard, as long as Hope could transform it into the most beautiful Hawaiian garden anyone had ever seen.

She’d sent pictures to Hope, and the wedding planner had assured her that everything would be beautiful for Jules’s big day.

And their mother had been ecstatic. Maizee had learned that her younger sister still listened to her, as she’d been the one to tell Jules, “Look, Mom just wants you to be happy, but she’s investing a lot in this. Would it kill you to have the wedding in the backyard? She’s been maintaining in for that purpose for twenty years.”

Jules had resisted the idea at first, and Maizee hadn’t brought it up again. But a couple of weeks later, Maizee had gotten a text from her mother that Jules had agreed o have the wedding in the backyard. Maizee had been as surprised as she’d acted, and she hoped Jules was being nicer to their mother.

The meeting took Maizee’s entire lunch hour and then some, but she stayed to the end to make sure Jules could get all of her questions answered. Plus, Maizee didn’t want to have to come back here for a while. This place screamed at her that she needed to get married, as if she didn’t already know.

And as if she hadn’t already been dreaming about walking down the aisle to meet Lawrence, say I do, and kiss him as his wife.

Maizee’s anger grew as she drove back to the bank. She wanted to be with Lawrence. So why was she preventing herself from being with him?

At the bank, she sat in the car for an extra moment, thinking about what today’s lunch hour would’ve been like had she been wearing Lawrence’s diamond. For one, he would’ve been there with her. For two, they’d be at lunch right now instead of lamenting the fact that they hadn’t eaten yet and didn’t have time to eat before getting back to work.

And she was tired of pretending like she wanted to be alone when she didn’t.

She thought a lot about how Lawrence had been expanding his horizons, trying to be brave enough to go hiking in unknown trails and out in sea kayaks. He’d calmed her when she was freaking out, and while he’d avoided some things she wished he would’ve taken on, she wanted to be with him.

So she had to be brave too.

She unbuckled and went inside, bypassing her office and taking the steps up to the second level. To her right, a door said SECURITY in all capital letters, and there was only a couple of other doors. Restrooms from what she could see at the end of the hall, and one more door that had Lawrence’s name affixed to the wall outside of it.

The door was open, and she had no idea if he’d be inside the office or not. Her heart beat in her chest, loudly, as if it were an empty drum. But she hadn’t come this far for nothing. She stepped over to the door and knocked, saying, “Lawrence?” before peering inside.

His office was empty, as the huge wall of windows and all the light they let in revealed. She marveled at the size of this place—it was easily as large as her entire house. He could section off the end of it and make a bedroom, and with the bathroom right down the hall and how he never cooked, he could live in this office.

Two couches had been arranged in an L, and she didn’t dare sit on them because they looked like no one had ever done so before. His desk was covered with papers and folders, but it wasn’t in a messy way. His computer screen showed the screen saver, which meant he hadn’t been there for a while.

Maizee wandered over to the windows and gazed out of them. The building was only two stories tall, but she could still see across the street, through the treetops, and the slip of blue on the horizon that was the ocean.

No wonder Lawrence spent so much time up here. He had beautiful views, and she knew how much he loved to work, so this place was probably a little slice of heaven for him. The whole room smelled like him, like his musky cologne and fresh cotton scent.

She turned and found a clothing rod holding several suits and an array of ties. Classic Lawrence, and somehow Maizee liked seeing extra clothes there, because it meant he liked to look good too.

His voice came up the stairs, getting closer and closer, and Maizee panicked. Should she rush over to the door so he could see her as soon as he reached the top of the steps? Or take a seat on the couch and pretend to be engrossed in her phone?

“…I don’t know, Mom,” he said, almost upon her now, and she hadn’t even moved from the windows.

She still stood there when he entered his office. He froze, his phone still at his ear. He stared at her and blinked, pure shock on his face.

“I need to call you back,” he said. He hung up and lowered his hand to his side.

“Hello,” Maizee said, lifting her fingers in a little wave. Foolishness raced through her, and she wound her fingers around themselves. “I just wondered if maybe…I don’t know. Maybe you had time to talk?”

“About what?”

He looked dashing in a light gray suit, his hair all swept up, those eyes dark and dreamy. Maizee’s stomach quaked, but she didn’t want to go home alone tonight.

She opened her mouth to say something, and “I don’t want to go home alone tonight,” came out. She sucked in a breath and wanted to pull back in the word tonight. But more streamed from her instead. “I miss you. I don’t need to be alone. I love you. I don’t want to spend the holidays alone. I—”

He held up one hand, and she stopped talking as if he’d pushed mute on her vocal chords. “Let’s back up and go one step at a time. I think you started with you miss me?”

Maizee couldn’t tell if he was being serious or if he was teasing her. Those dark-as-night eyes sparkled, but the glint in them was hard to decipher.

And she’d come this far. “Yes,” she said. “You heard me right.”

“And you don’t need to be alone.” He took a step toward her, obviously in much better control of his faculties than she was.

“I don’t,” she said, suddenly itching to have his hands cradle her face, touch her skin, hold her close. She knew what she’d said next, and Lawrence had obviously heard her too.

Was he going to make her say it again?

He took another step toward her, his face deadly serious and pure electricity sparking from his eyes.