returning to the island, however. At some point he was going to find out she’d bought this cottage, right? Just like at some point Maggie was going to learn it was Cody who’d pulled her from the water.
Her mind took her straight back to the moment she’d been plunged into the depths by a wave so strong and merciless Louisa was certain its sole purpose was to end her life.
Her chest closed as her imagination made her relive the whole ordeal in vivid detail as if she needed the reminder. As if she could ever forget.
“I suppose I should ask if you’re okay,” Maggie said.
Louisa’s eyes fluttered open, and she forced a smile. “Of course I am, Mags. It wasn’t really that big of a deal.”
Maggie’s expression made it clear she didn’t believe Louisa. And rightfully so. The old woman had always had a knack for seeing straight through her.
“I’m fine,” Louisa protested. “And I have a lot of work to do.”
“I called Alyssa,” Maggie said. “She’s handling everything.”
Alyssa Martin was perfectly competent. Her best friend and business partner could handle most of what needed to be done for the upcoming anniversary party, but it would be missing Louisa’s special touch.
That couldn’t be bottled or duplicated. It was the magic she strived to create for every single client. It was what people always told her after an event: “You have such a way of making everything so magical.”
It was probably a point of pride, but it mattered to Louisa. “I need to be there,” she groaned.
“You can take a day.”
“I own the business,” Louisa said. “It’s my responsibility.”
“You have a very good partner who is eager to help, given the fact that you nearly drowned this morning.” Maggie did nothing to hide her irritation.
Louisa had started her private concierge business a year ago, after spending five years as the concierge at one of Nantucket’s prestigious boutique hotels. That job had given her connections, and one day Louisa realized she didn’t want to spend her time simply catering to rich people. She wanted to make the island—and all it had to offer—accessible to everyone.
She wanted to create magic for as many people as possible.
That’s when The Good Life was born.
The idea had come to her the way all ideas did—fast and furious. She’d spent the night scribbling feverishly in her notebook, trying to keep up with the flow of possibilities. She’d gone to work the next morning exhausted but energized—and ready to hand in her resignation.
Of course, Eric was the first person she told. He wasn’t only the hotel manager; he was her boyfriend, her best friend—she’d thought. And while he’d miss having her at the hotel, mostly he’d be thrilled for her because, naturally, he’d realize he hadn’t seen her this excited about something before.
Louisa had stood in the doorway of his office, wearing a grin like the Cheshire cat, but Eric barely seemed to notice she was there.
Finally, after she cleared her throat twice, he looked up. “You’re late this morning.”
She waved him off. “I need to talk to you.”
He frowned. “Louisa, are you having one of your big-idea days?”
She hated when he did that—made her feel small for being excited. He sometimes told her she wasn’t acting professionally or like an adult should act. Usually in the moments when she was feeling spontaneous or adventurous. Eric was neither of those things.
Most of the time she’d done a good job of holding back that side of herself, but at the moment, it was hard to pretend she wasn’t excited about her new plan. She was ecstatic! She was about to do something brave and amazing!
“I do have an idea,” she said, trying not to let his attitude curb her enthusiasm. She sat across from him, on the opposite side of his desk, noticing it was neat and well-ordered. Everything in its place. By contrast, her desk was more what she referred to as “organized chaos.”
It made her wonder what it would be like to live in a house with Eric. He’d probably be horrified at the sports bras hanging from her closet doorknob.
“I’ve got a meeting in five minutes—can this wait?”
She must’ve looked sad because he reached across the desk and took her hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind. What’s your idea?”
“You sure?”
He focused his attention completely on her now. “Yes. I’m positive.”
She smiled, then explained her plan for The Good Life. She even had a rough sketch of a logo. She laid