Through cognitive psychotherapy, she knew she could help them address their past mistakes and deal with their emotions, but without real, tangible skills, how would they claim their futures? If she could challenge them on responsibility, communication, boundaries—all the things capable adults must master in order to survive—could she foster self-worth, compassion, and commitment in these entitled child stars? In other words, could she take a person standing two feet from the edge of the cliff and Pa Ingalls them into stepping away, about-facing, and rebuilding a new life from their crumbling one?

It sounded absurd, but there was a kernel of something there.

So she talked the parent of a really out-of-control, self-absorbed tennis star who’d rampaged her way through the pro circuit popping Adderall and giving blow jobs to European royalty into admitting her to a three-week adulting boot camp after she completed sobriety treatment.

Olivia was shocked by the results. The first week sucked. Her baby tennis star had been an absolute terror, throwing tantrums, but once Olivia shifted away from vacuuming and budgeting and placed her client on a committee for a pet adoption event, she saw a change. By the end of the trial period, her tennis star had not only learned to balance a checkbook and use a Weed Eater, but she’d signed on to be the spokesperson for the Florida Humane Society and had even recruited other tennis stars to help with adoption events around the country. Miss Wimbledon Champ also learned to make killer cupcakes that she took great pleasure in sharing with the press. Currently, that former queen of the net coached youth tennis while balancing a young family. She still sent Olivia cupcakes and a handwritten thank-you note every year.

Square One had been born.

Olivia parked the car, grabbed a cart, and went in search of linens. She’d already loaded up some clearance towels and a few new kitchen utensils when her phone rang.

Conrad’s number appeared on the screen.

“You’re making this quite a habit,” she said in lieu of a greeting. She eyed a shower curtain with birds on it. Not the right vibe.

“It would be if you hadn’t spent so much time avoiding me.”

Something weird fluttered in her stomach. Those words. “Chase is doing fine.”

“Maybe I wasn’t calling about Chase. Maybe I wanted to talk to you.”

“Con, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“This . . . whatever you’re doing. Saying things like that.”

“What? You’re my friend, someone I care about. Look, I gave you space because I needed it, too, but that didn’t mean I didn’t miss having you in my life. And then when that stuff happened with your dad, I tried to help, be there for you. But you are still running from me.”