When the butterfly was secure in the clamps, she put on a pair of goggles, turned on the Dremel, and got to work. With the startup whir of the rotary tool, with the first give of the metal butterfly as it was pierced with the bit, Gemma experienced a heart-pounding uncertainty whether she would transform the piece or destroy it.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Celeste called from the doorway.

Gemma looked up. Her aunt was dressed in one of her usual cotton tunics, this one peach colored. Her hair was damp and loose, a cup of coffee in her hand. She felt a flood of affection for this woman, a stranger until just a few weeks ago. And now Gemma was working comfortably under her roof, productive. Inspired. Welcome.

She wanted to give something back. And she had an idea.

“Aunt Celeste, thank you again for letting me set up a studio here. And I was thinking . . . unless you have something else in mind . . . I would love to make your wedding bands. Yours and Jack’s. You can design them, choose the metal. Whatever you like.”

Her offer didn’t seem to have the intended effect. Celeste’s facial expression tensed.

“I suppose we will need wedding bands, won’t we? But you have enough on your plate.”

“No, I’d be honored. Really.”

“Well, that’s very generous of you. We can talk more about it later. But right now you have a visitor downstairs.”

“A visitor?” Gemma said.

“A very handsome young man.”

Sanjay. Gemma turned off her equipment, mind racing. Of course he couldn’t leave town without seeing her one more time. Dating someone or not, they were friends. Whoever this woman was, the relationship would pass. The fact that he’d shown up made her certain of it.

She took the stairs two at a time, following Celeste down to the store, where she found . . . not Sanjay.

Connor Harrison wore a powder blue T-shirt that brought out his tan and the flecks of gold in his blue eyes. His taut biceps tugged at the sleeves. She couldn’t have been less interested.

“Hey,” she said, glancing uncomfortably back at Celeste.

“I came to see if you were still in town,” he said, smiling.

“I’m working,” she said.

“Oh, sorry to interrupt,” he said. “Your aunt said you weren’t starting until ten.”

She cast a look at Celeste, who was suddenly very busy behind the counter.

“My own work. I design jewelry,” she said.

“Very cool,” he said. “Family tradition, right?”

Startled, she eyed him with suspicion.

“How do you know about my family?”

He tilted his head to the side. “You mentioned it at the beach.”

She had? She didn’t remember. And if so, it had been a slip. Very unlike her.

“Okay, well . . . I have to get back to it.”