“Hey, isn’t that your girlfriend?” Noah Cavill said.

Finn Sheridan looked up from scrubbing the floor of their catamaran. He saw Abby a few feet away down the dock in a clinch with an unfamiliar man.

“Yep, that’s Abby.”

He recognized the tight jeans, the long blonde hair. She was definitely his type. Beautiful, carefree and fun. Never worked too hard but just enough to be responsible. She knew how to unwind and relax. And she’d been exactly what he needed at the time.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Noah threw the rag he’d been using to polish the guard rail. “If I caught Twyla with some other guy like that, I’d have to kill the dude.”

Finn chuckled. “I should have clarified. Abby’s my ex-girlfriend. And she can do whatever she likes, I’m not going to kill anyone.”

“Wait. What? Since when is she your ex-girlfriend? Just last week you two were at the house with me and Twyla, watching the game. You looked…happy.”

“I was happy. It was a good game.” Finn shrugged.

“I’m not talking about the game! I’m talking about you and Abby. Weren’t you into her? She seemed to really be vibing with you.”

“Yeah, she was great. She is great.”

“Then I don’t understand.” Noah froze as if he’d just remembered he left the oven on or had another thought that disturbed him. “You’re kidding me.”

“When I’m kidding you, you’ll know.” Finn straightened, sliding his hands down his board shorts.

Life as part owner of Nacho Boat might sound glamorous to some but was far from it. Sure, he got to be on the water every day, but he also had to clear and clean the deck after taking a group of men fishing for marlin. Still, the work was exactly what he’d wanted and came at a good time when Noah suggested that Finn invest in the business alongside with him. A few months ago, he’d bought Nacho Boat Adventures from the previous owner and already had plans to expand. Like Finn, his oldest friend, Noah, was no stranger to boating.

For Finn, investing in the business was a nice change from constantly being in competition with someone else. He’d already experienced Olympic gold and had the medal to prove it. Well, in theory he had the medal.

He still missed the medal some days and the memories that came with it.

Point being, now he only competed with himself and that’s the way he liked it.

“Okay, so you and Abby are finished. Please don’t tell me you’re still having these two-week long relationships and moving on,” Noah said.

“Okay, I won’t tell you. And it’s not two weeks. Not that I’ve been keeping track.”

“That’s okay, Twyla and I do it for you.”

“Don’t. It’s not true.” But Finn counted quietly in his head.

“It is.” Noah sat on the bench and started to name the women Finn had recently dated on one hand. “Since you started dating again, every two weeks, almost like you set an alarm. Next!”

Hell, maybe it only took him that long to figure out whether he wanted to spend more time with a woman. He was fast and efficient in more than one way, apparently.

Finn faced his oldest friend. Behind him, the beautiful gulf coast sunset was beginning to crest in hints of red, purple, and gold. The salt air filled his lungs and brought about faint memories of over a decade of training and racing. Sailing.

“Maybe I can figure out whether a relationship is going to work out sooner than most people do. That’s all. I didn’t realize it was exactly two weeks but whatever.”

“And how can you figure this out in only two weeks’ time? You haven’t even met her family in that short a span.”

“Experience.”

Finn didn’t want to ruin Noah’s day, but a divorce taught a man a lot about who would and who wouldn’t make the distance. If it wasn’t going to happen, why waste his time?

“Okay, I get it. Your divorce was a romance killer. You two wound up hating each other. But what was wrong with Abby?”

“There’s nothing wrong with her. She’s just not right for me. We’re not right for each other.”

“Huh.”

Noah seemed to mull this over as if he couldn’t figure out if Finn was a genius savant in terms of relationships, or if he was simply as he’d often been accused: commitment phobic after a bad divorce. But he wasn’t, and also it wasn’t just a bad divorce. His divorce had been like the war of the roses. Like World War III. Until he’d finally given up and let Cheryl take everything she wanted. By then all he’d really wanted was out.

He’d lost something that meant a lot to him in the process: a gold medal and the friendship of a woman he’d thought might last forever. Love, gone. Friendship lost too.

“Look, we can’t all fall in love with our best friend.”

Sure, Finn wanted what Noah and Twyla had. The assurance that no matter what happened between two people, they’d never hurt each other. As former best friends, Noah and Twyla loved each other far too much for that, with a love that went deeper than physical attraction and magnetic chemistry.

But they had that, too, damn overachievers.

“I think the divorce is still playing hockey puck with your brain.”

Finn didn’t want to believe that, because it meant Cheryl had taken far more from him than a medal he’d earned due to years of practice and commitment. She’d taken his peace of mind and the chance of any future happiness with it.

“Look, I obviously know it’s tough for me to consider anything long term with a woman. I can admit that. But I’m not hurting anyone. All of the women I date want temporary, too. And that works for me right now.”

“Okay,” Noah said with a sigh. “As long as no one is getting hurt.”

“Wow.” A lightbulb went off in Finn’s head. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about Michelle.”

“I’m sorry, but I still feel guilty. I didn’t mean to hurt her, and she moved here from Austin to be with me.”

“You didn’t ask her to move here.”

“No, of course not. I was trying to break up with her.”

“Guess she didn’t get the memo.”

Were she not Noah’s recent ex, Finn might like to get in line to enjoy two weeks or however long of Michelle LaCroix. She was beautiful and smart with long legs and an amazing figure. But she wasn’t dating anyone, because clearly, she was still not over Noah. Nothing less attractive to a man than someone still pining over her ex.

“She got fired from her job!” Noah was still going on, trying desperately to expunge his guilt.

The problem was, Noah had always been in love with Twyla but had no idea she’d felt the same. Once he did, well, that was all she wrote. No other woman stood a chance.

“Not your fault. Plus, she landed on her feet. They love her over at Pierce & Pierce.”

“Twyla calls that place P&P, after Pride & Prejudice. Says it sort of redeems the whole divorce attorney’s thing.”

The same law firm his ex-wife had hired to fleece Finn of everything he owned but his underwear. The little shark Arthur, Jr., had been Sally’s attorney. Finn’s attorney was a nice woman who thought they should mediate and try to part as “friends.”

She was a dreamer, in other words.

And that was the other, much bigger problem with Michelle LaCroix. She was a family law attorney.
One of the best.

***

Michelle La Croix stood from her desk and stretched. With a sedentary job like hers, she often had to remind herself to get up every twenty minutes or risk heart disease. Sitting was the new smoking after all. She’d never smoked a day in her life and if she died of coronary heart disease, she was going to be very pissed.

Closing her laptop, she strolled to look out the window of her office. In the distance to her right, the lighthouse appeared in the fading rays of the sunset. To her left were the bright lights of the Charming, Texas boardwalk twinkling like matching stars. Across the street was Once Upon a Book, the bookshop her former nemesis, Twyla Thompson, owned and managed.

If Michelle was unhappy that she’d had to start over after working for years to make partner at her law firm in Austin, she had to admit Charming was the perfect place to do it.

The town was well named, a picture-postcard town situated along the Gulf Coast of Mexico. When she’d arrived here six months ago, Michelle had driven along the curvy coastline in her rental, taking in the views. Her ex-boyfriend Noah’s hometown was everything she’d expected from a bucolic coastal town with a converted lighthouse, piers, docks, and sea jetties. She’d found a temporary rental in a row of private and secluded cottages along the beach, owned and managed by some retired rodeo cowboy who loved to surf.

Foolishly, Michelle had actually come here for another chance with Noah. She’d had no idea he’d been in love with his best friend for over a decade. To be fair, even Twyla was unaware. Still, it was neither Noah nor Twyla’s fault Michelle had been fired from her old law firm. The entire reason had been professional jealousy, the kind a woman in her field met with far too often. Gus O’Connor, former friend and associate, had taken it upon himself to forward a private email meant to be only between the two of them. She’d complained about the senior partner, and he’d forwarded that personal email to everyone in the firm. That’s how her former law office staff learned Michelle believed Richard Styles walked as if he had a stick up his butt.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. She knew better than anyone how dangerous and exposing email could be. But she’d been off her game, heartbroken over the breakup with Noah. She’d then made the colossal mistake of venting with a colleague who often made his own jokes at Richard’s expense. But no one cared to hear that, because while she was Charming on the first vacation she’d had in years, the shit hit the fan. Texas was an at-will work state, and Richard didn’t need a reason to let her go. He used the fact she’d taken too much time off, and promptly fired her.

She’d landed on her feet as she always did. Stealthy. Like a cat. Arthur Pierce, Sr. adored her and had hired Michelle on the spot.

“You’re just what this firm needs. A breath of fresh air.”

A woman, in other words. The firm hadn’t grown much over the years and now consisted only of a father and his son, Arthur Jr. hence the highly original name of Pierce and Pierce. Snort. Arthur Sr. was nearing retirement, on his third marriage, and junior was a real piece of work. Every morning he’d grin at her lasciviously as he walked by her office on the way to the better corner one.

“Already here?” He’d chuckle all the way, knowing he’d never have to work hard a day in his life because of dear old dad.

Michelle told herself that junior was good for her. He reminded her to never let her guard down again. She worked harder because of him and was highly motivated. Right now, this was a good thing because she vowed to make partner one way or the other. If nothing else the name needed some originality and La Croixwas a fine name.
And would it be good to make partner here in Charming? Yes, yes, it would. Noah and Twyla would finally stop feeling so damn guilty. She’d send news of the promotion to everyone at her former Thomas and Styles law firm in Austin and tell them all to eat her dust. Especially Gus. She’d have the last laugh. Success was always the best revenge.

“Are you still here?” Arthur, Sr. stood in the frame of her door, glancing at his watch. “It’s seven o’clock. Stop trying to impress me! I already can’t love you more than I do, or my wife will get jealous. Go home to your boyfriend and take the poor man out to dinner. You rarely see him.”

Oh, yeah. That. Arthur had implied that were she to ever make partner, he’d need to be assured she had deep ties in Charming. He had to know that with a family law firm he’d built from the ground up, he could trust that she wasn’t going to go back to Austin. In a weak and rather stupid moment of which she’d had far too many lately, Michelle told him she had a boyfriend. She also told him they were getting quite serious.

She’d pictured Noah, of course, but hadn’t given him a name. Good thing because Noah was no longer a possibility. He was, in fact, quite engaged. As in to be married engaged. So, she kept calling her imaginary guy “my bae” and “my boo” even if she wanted to throw up every time she said it.

“As a matter of fact, we’re going out to dinner tonight.” She started to shove papers in her briefcase. “I better get going or I’ll be late. Thanks for reminding me.”

Work life balance was important to Arthur. With a son like junior, at least he’d never had to worry his own son would work too hard.

“I’d like to finally meet him,” Arthur said. “Lynn and I want to have you both over for dinner.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll tell him. Let’s talk about it and arrange a date.”

She’d been stalling for weeks, and she could stall a bit longer. Eventually, she’d find someone to date, even casually, and she’d introduce that man to Arthur. No one had to know they were new.

Arthur left before she did, and Michelle brought up the rear not long after, shutting off the copy machine, coffeemaker, lights and locking their doors. A burger from the Salty Dog Bar & Grill sounded good tonight, which she would eat alone in her little beach shack while listening to the waves. And watching her true crime shows. She got in her sedan, called in her order for pick-up, and drove the short distance from downtown to the row of restaurants on the boardwalk.

Twyla wasn’t a social butterfly, so Michelle rarely ran into her and Noah here. The one time she had run into them a couple of weeks ago, Twyla had waved her over. She was trying to be friends. Trying too hard. Michelle wound up pretending there was a work emergency. Someone who wanted a divorce, like, immediately. They bought it somehow.
Tonight, the place was slammed, filled with couples. Glancing at her watch Michelle realized it was actually already Thursday. Damn. The weekend again. After tomorrow, she’d have no work for two days. Last week, Arthur had sent an email to the three other people in the office: no more working on the weekends. Their clients would survive their divorces without them. They were attorneys, not counselors. Except the truth was in many ways they were both.

“Believe me,” Arthur had once said to Michelle, “I made the mistake of working too much and losing sight of what’s truly important. Now I’m on my third marriage and I’ve learned a few things. Family time is crucial to a successful life.”

Michelle had nodded at Arthur’s wisdom while simultaneously making the decision she could just as easily work at home on the weekends. She’d been bringing files home ever since. Her work was consuming, passionate, and she loved it that way. Nothing was more dramatic than two people who’d decided to end a marriage. On her client list now, she had a poor man whose trophy wife had cheated on him repeatedly and had the nerve to fight the prenup due to her own “pain and suffering.”

She’d married a seventy-five-year-old man, after all, so how could she be blamed for getting her needs met elsewhere? She’d actually tried that defense, and her lawyer should be disbarred for allowing it. That case would wrap up soon, and the woman would get her settlement and not another cent. Zip. Zero. Nada. Michelle was a good attorney, thank you very much.

As her bad luck would have it, Noah and Twyla were here tonight. She spied them holding hands and sitting on the same side of a four-person booth. They hadn’t seen her, and she might be able to get out of here before they did. She took her spot in the long pick-up line and averted her eyes from anyone else she might know.

But just then she heard the sound a booming voice she recognized.

“Michelle!”

Holy legal briefs, it was Arthur Sr., sitting at a nearby booth with his lovely wife.