Page 56 of The Magic We Made

I might have gotten a satisfying answer then and there, but I will never know, because one of the servers came up to us and said, “Would you like some nachos?”

I turned to sayNo, thank youwhen I realized I knew this particular server. I knew her all too well. “Debi.”

“Devorah,” Debi corrected me in her sad, inflectionless voice. “How are you doing, Frankie? Sorry, I almost didn’t recognize you in that dress. You look amazing.”

I couldn’t say the same for Debi. Sheshouldhave looked amazing, since she’d just returned from a sun-filled cruise with my ex.

But instead she looked pale and glum and way too thin in her new Brewport polo shirt and khaki shorts, and I remembered that the cruise had ended in a violent struggle between Richard and some rocks. Man versus nature, and man lost.

“Thanks,” I said, aware that Ash was still standing there beside me, watching my interaction with my ex’s girlfriend—though he could have no idea that’s who she was. To him, Debi was simply a member of the restaurant staff. “So... you’re working here now?”

“Yeah,” Debi said, in the same sad little voice. “You probablyheard what happened, right? This crazy storm just came out of nowhere. Like, it wasn’t even on the radar. We went to bed and then the next thing I knew, there was water everywhere. Richard says we’re lucky we didn’t drown.”

When Debi said the wordRichard, I saw Ash’s eyebrows go up, but he still didn’t say anything. He didn’t go away, either, even though it should have been pretty clear that Debi and I were having a private—if unwanted, on my side—conversation.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I’m glad you’re all right.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” Debi said. She’d actually put her tray down to rest on the deck railing because it was too exhausting for her to stand there and hold up the five tiny paper bowls of rapidly cooling nachos that were sitting on it. “My life coach says I’m suffering some pretty severe post-traumatic stress. That’s why I flew home without Richard. I really need some stability, you know? I was hoping to get my old job back at the Yoga Sanctuary, but they said the busy season is over and they don’t need any more instructors. Fortunately this place was hiring, or I don’t know what I would have done.” She gave me a tentative smile. “I’m super happy that I ran into you, though, Frankie, because my life coach says I’m going to need some intensive therapy to get over the trauma of what happened out there on the water, and I know you’ve helped a lot of—”

“She can’t help you,” Ash interrupted. I looked over at him, surprised. “Dr. Giovanni helps patients deal with their emotional andfinancialwell-being.”

“Er, yes,” I said. “That’s true, Debi. But also, the American Counseling Association frowns on dual relationships—that’s when a counselor has a prior personal connection with a potential patient. They worry it can impair professional judgment, andpossibly even cause the patient harm. I’d be happy to refer you to someone, but I—”

“There’s no one else in town taking new patients!” Debi cried. “And Idoneed help with my financial well-being. I had to spend all my money on a plane ticket back here, and now I don’t have enough for a down payment on my own place. My parents say I can move back in with them in Bridgeport, but they turned my old room into a home gym. There’s still room for a futon, but it’s pretty squished by the Pilates reformer—”

“You know what?” Ash lifted the tray of nachos and passed it back to Debi. Then, laying a hand in the center of her shoulder blades, he began to gently guide her back toward the doors to the restaurant. “I appreciate that you’re in a jam, but don’t you think it’s kind of wrong for you to be asking Dr. Giovanni for help? Not only is she a guest at this party where you’re supposed to be working, but her husband was the one you were screwing behind her back.”

I felt something akin to an electric shock at his words. Had he really just said what I think he said?

Evidently he had, since Debi looked as shocked at his words as I felt. “What?”

“You heard me.” The next thing I knew, Ash was physically steering Debi away from me while she held on to her tray and sputtered in protest up at him.

“But,” she’d cried. “ButRichardwas the one who was married, notme.”

“And I’m sure you were a helpless pawn in his Machiavellian game of seduction,” I overheard Ash saying as the two of them disappeared into the crowd of party guests.

I was completely stunned by the entire incident—not onlythat the woman my ex had cheated on me with had come up and asked if I’d help her professionally withhertrauma, but that Ash Merit—Ash Merit—had told her off, then gotten rid of her for me.

It was unprofessional of me to let him do that. Debi might not be my favorite person in the world, but she’s still a human being.

Still, I couldn’t help be the tiniest bit relieved. Obviously I don’tneeda man to chase off annoying wannabe patients for me, but it was awfully nice of Ash to do so. So nice, in fact, that I was still standing there with my mouth open in shock when he returned to my side a minute later.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “Now, where were we? Oh, right, my grandmother. It really is a long story, but if you want to hear it, I’m happy to—”

“No.” I’d shaken my head, feeling—I wasn’t surewhatI was feeling. “Thanks for that. But I gotta go.”

“Go?” Ash looked genuinely crestfallen. “We haven’t even had a dance yet! I’m sure those girls will play something recognizable soon—”

“Maybe another time,” I’d said to him, going hot and cold all over at the realization that I was attracted to Ash Merit.Reallyattracted to him. And it wasn’t just that, earlier that day, I’d seen him tenderly cradling a wounded girl to his naked chest. It was how he’d gotten rid of Debi. I needed to get away from him myself before I did something I might regret. “Good night.”

And then I’d fled. I’d bolted from the deck before he or anyone else could stop me. It wasn’t until just now, when I got back home, that I realized I’d been followed.

Knowing I can’t avoid this conversation forever, I lean against the side of my car and wait as AshPUTT PUTT PUTTshis way into his driveway, turns the engine off, and then gets out of his truck.

Just as I’d suspected, he doesn’t go into his own house. He immediately cuts across his front yard into mine.

“Hey, are you okay?” he calls to me. “You left without even saying goodbye.”