He showed those pretty things to her. “Thanks, Mom.”

It was a joke. She knew that. Still, something ugly pricked at her. So she was responsible, dressed conservatively, and drove a Volvo. And had no social life. And two cats. Whatever. She was not a stereotype. She was a successful woman who had chosen to live her life the way she wished. She wanted to shout that little nugget at the too-pretty actor who slept until noon and made his living leaping around in a cape and leotard, but instead she hit the button to roll up her window.

For a few seconds, neither she nor Chase said anything.

They watched as Spencer walked across the parking lot and opened the door for someone coming out balancing a holder with four coffees. Thankfully, the woman didn’t actually glance at who was holding the door. The Hammer didn’t even bother to put on mirrored sunglasses like all the other celebrities around town and was easily recognizable.

“So . . . are you going to let me sign the papers and go with you to the beach house or not?” Chase asked, staring at the air-conditioning vent.

“I don’t think it’s going to work. I understand you’re frustrated with your situation, but I don’t work with people who are still running from their problems.”

“Look, don’t be offended. I needed to get out of there. I couldn’t breathe.”

“You were getting out. I was giving you an opportunity—”

“People are always giving me opportunities, lady. But they always want something in return. You’re no different. You’re getting paid—probably a lot—to get me to a workable state. People don’t help other people without something in return. I’m sure you’ll want me to vouch for your stupid life coaching or whatever this thing is. You’ll want to put me on a pamphlet saying ‘Olivia helped me see where I went wrong, and now I’m completely happy in my life. I’m living my best life now. Woo-hoo.’”

“Yeah . . . um, no. I don’t have pamphlets or testimonials. So relax.” Olivia inhaled deeply and held it for five seconds before releasing the breath slowly, trying to center herself and control the irritation uncoiling inside of her. “But you’re right—I’m getting paid. And paying back a favor to an old friend. Honestly, I didn’t want to work with you, but Conrad reminded me everyone is redeemable.”

Chase snorted.

“I know. Practical people like you and me understand that some people don’t want to be better. They don’t want to be happy. They like punishing themselves and the people around them.”

“You’re implying I’m hopeless?”

“No. I don’t know you well enough to make that decision. Really, my ‘life coaching’ isn’t about fixing people. It’s about knocking down ruins and building from a new place. You have to own those ruins, though. You have to recognize who you once were and why you became that way before you can build a new life.”

Olivia paused and realized she was likely wasting her breath. “But I don’t have to sell myself to you. I’m taking you back to Cedar Point. You can resume your treatment, get out, promise yourself that you will stay clean and healthy, and go right back in a few months. Or to jail. Depends on if you kill anyone in your next car accident.” She punched the volume on the stereo, and Michael Bublé crooning about something sappy surrounded them.