I take a second to stare adoringly at Sal. “I love you, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He takes a sip of his iced tea. “So what happened with Finn?”

Sighing, I drop my napkin on the table. “I didn’t exactly tell him I was talking to you about using his boats to film a huge multimillion-dollar Hollywood production. He was angry. Blah blah.”

His eyes lift back to me, half amused, half incredulous. “You’re kidding.”

“Before you say anything else, please note that I’ve heard from everyone that I’m wrong here. I feel like an idiot, actually.”

His face relaxes and he gives a little shrug before taking a bite of his salad.

“And then he just left,” I tell him. “That’s why I’m angry. It felt...”

He swallows, and then finishes the sentence for me: “Shitty?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you can tell him all about how you feel next week. We’re taking him out to lunch.” Sal meets my eyes and bats his lashes innocently.

Fuck.

“SERIOUSLY, ANSEL,” I say, slipping into the booth at Great Maple for Saturday breakfast with the crew. “How much are you paying to fly here practically every week?”

“A lot,” he admits with a laugh and his obscene dimple poking into his cheek. “But actually I’m here this weekend because we are house hunting.”

“Uh, pardon?” I ask, leaning forward to stare at Mia.

“Say what?” Lola adds.

“The lawsuit from hell settled this week!” Mia squeals, and she’s beaming so enormously I could count every single one of her teeth. “Ansel is officially free to look for jobs here and he already has an interview at UCSD!”

“Holy crap, that’s amazing!” I jump out of the booth and make Oliver get up so I can tackle Mia on the other side. “I am so happy for you guys!”

Lola joins the girl pile and I hear Ansel say something about getting a video camera and maple syrup.

I climb off the tangle and smack Ansel’s arm before straightening my shirt. “I can’t believe it. It’s like we’re all going to be together!”

“Well. Almost,” Lola says, making a this-is-awkward face.

“Right. Except for Finn,” I say, and everyone kind of looks over at me like I’m made of glued-together eggshells and am rolling toward the edge of the table. I laugh, too loudly, sounding completely mental. The effect is to make it even more awkward. “Obviously I realize he’s not here anymore.” And then I add for no reason other than my mouth is still moving and no one else is coming to my rescue: “He left without saying goodbye.”

Lola snorts, petting my shoulder. “Shh, crazypants.”

I bite back a laugh. “That came out a little Glenn Close, didn’t it?”

“A little,” Ansel agrees, laughing.