Situated in a small cove off Casco Bay, this was one of the two homes Oskar and his wife had purchased upon his retirement, and as Bennett stood at the windows in the breakfast nook, she didn't need to ask why. Beyond the sloping backyard and the fire pit surrounded by Adirondack chairs was the beach, and with senses as sharp as a razor's edge, while the windows and doors were closed, Bennett could hear the waves lapping against the sand and smell the salt in the air. The bright morning sun danced across the water, capping the tiny waves with glittering edges, and a few hardened sailors were on their boats in the cove, the chill of the Maine autumn not yet biting enough to curb their passion.

Bennett turned as Oskar walked back into the room with coffee and pastries. “This view is spectacular.”

“Yes, it is,” Oskar said, placing the tray on the glass-topped table. “It never ceases to take Hanna’s breath away.”

“I can see why.”

“I have to tell you,” Oskar said, motioning for Bennett to join him. “I was a little surprised when you called last night and said you’d be up this morning. I thought Max frowned on you being out during the day.”

“Max frowns on a lot of things I do,” Bennett said as she sat down.

“Then his frown must have reached the ground when you brought Mr. Rooney on board.” When Oskar saw Bennett narrow her eyes, he added, “My family has acted as guardians for centuries, and part of being a guardian is knowing who belongs and who doesn’t.”

“Gus does belong.”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t,” Oskar said, holding up his hands. “In case you’ve forgotten, I worked for you for nearly forty years. Your instincts about people were always impeccable.”

“Not always,” Bennett said, her eyes creasing at the corners.

Oskar’s expression mirrored Bennett’s. “Yes, well, that’s why they say love is blind.”

“And they are correct.” Bennett took a sip of her coffee, and as she placed the cup back on the saucer, she ran her finger around the rim. “Speaking of instincts, that’s why I’m here. I’d like to talk to you about Lisa.”

“Lisa?” Oskar said, straightening in his chair. “Is something wrong? I spoke to her last week, and she didn’t mention any problems.”

“There aren’t any, at least when it comes to her working at the gallery.”

“Then what is it? What’s the problem?”

“Oskar, I need you to talk to her about her choice. I want you to change her mind.”