But didn’t I? Didn’t I sense he was leaning this way, knowing it’s what his family wanted? If he didn’t take Sal’s offer, what else could he have done?

“It’s a great move, if you ask me,” Sal says, and I know him well enough to know that he’s choosing to act oblivious to my internal meltdown. “From what I hear, the AC is putting a huge amount of money into this one. Finn’s family will get up-front costs, of course. But a cut of the merchandise, too.”

I nod numbly. It is a good thing. It’s an amazing thing. I repeat this thought over and over.

We arrive at my floor and Sal tells me to meet him at eight the next morning in the hotel executive lounge. “I’m sure you’ll find something to do,” he says, as I step out and he remains in the elevator because he’s staying on the Fancy Ass People floor.

“We don’t have plans tonight?” To be honest, with this new information, I want nothing more than to be distracted by Sal’s sharp wit and endless industry stories.

“I’m having dinner with some friends,” he says, with a casual wave of his hand.

I only have time to realize that he planned this so I’d have a free night here and to get out the words “You jackass! Did you talk to my dad?” before Sal grins and the elevator doors slide closed.

“I’m not going to see Finn!” I yell at the sealed doors anyway, just as an older gentleman steps forward and presses the down call button. “I’m not,” I tell the stranger before glancing at my room key and stomping down the hall.

I PUT MY bag down and after a quick search on my phone leave almost immediately to find him.

The sun setting over the water is nearly too beautiful to describe, and I wish someone was here with me to agree that it’s unreal. The sky is fire orange at the horizon, fading to a deep blue-lavender with dappled clouds. The taxi drives me up along the coast from Victoria, past Port Renfrew toward Finn’s house in Bamfield, situated right on Barkley Sound.

My head is still spinning and I want to see him more than I want anything else at this moment. I ask the driver to leave me at the dock, knowing if there’s any light left that Finn is likely to be on his boat. But when I look out at the scores of boats tied to their slips, I realize finding him will be like looking for a needle in a haystack.