Zeke pulled a book from the top of the case he carried. “Walden. Henry David Thoreau was a transcendentalist who lived back in the early 1800s. He advocated living simply, returning to nature, to marching to the beat of your own drum. I keep a copy and pull it out to read sometimes when the fish are being disagreeable. His observations remind me why I came back home. Why I make my living in this world and not on Wall Street. I’m sucking the marrow from life.”

Again, Zeke’s words were impassioned, a man who believed in the decision he’d made. Chase wanted that certainty about her life, but she wasn’t to that point yet. Olivia had mentioned that Chase could quit acting, but that life was the only one she’d ever known. When she’d been younger, she’d been very good at her job—she could shift from loathsome cheerleader bully to lost ingenue in seconds. Her Golden Globe sat on her mantel, a reminder that she’d once been a serious actor, one who hadn’t necessarily mastered her craft but had an opportunity to grow into a Meryl Streep. Instead she’d gone the way of too many child actors—totally off the rails. Why hadn’t she been able to control herself? To control her thoughts and emotions?

“Sucking the marrow from life sounds like serious business,” she said, trying to shift back to the lightness they’d shared moments before when she’d been struggling against a fish and not massive doubt.

“It’s more of a necessity for me. I need to know what I do is good, not just for me but for the world around me. Because my last job wasn’t, and I was good at that job. It’s hard to reconcile being so good at ruining people. So I don’t do that anymore. I get up every morning and live with intention and honesty as best I can.”

This dude was too good for her. “That’s . . . pretty cool, Zeke.”

“You want to borrow the book? We can talk about it next time.” He held out the ratty, dog-eared copy. Chase took the book, almost appalled at the shape it was in. When the man read a book, he read it.

“Next time?”

Zeke’s smile felt gentle. “You’ve proven you’re definitely a decent fly fisherman. Or fisherperson? I guess that’s more correct these days. Gender neutrality in fishing.”