The Good Life did a ton of business online—it was where most of her leads came from—but when she had meetings, she held them in her home office. The office had a separate entrance, and she’d decorated it carefully in the same cottage style as the rest of the home, but with a slightly more upscale feel. For instance, none of the furniture had been purchased from anyone’s yard.

There was a desk positioned in front of two large windows, built-in shelves on either side.

She’d chosen summery colors for the space—teal, salmon, sea green—filling the room with Nantucket-inspired artwork, like a framed watercolor map that hung on the wall next to her diploma from Boston University and an old photo of Louisa and her parents on the dock only a short distance from the cottage’s backyard.

Come to think of it, Daniel Boggs had snapped that photo.

She walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down, shaking the mouse of her computer until the old Mac sprang to life.

She tried not to think about the fact that the computer was probably in its last year and that soon she’d have to find a way to buy a new one, and instead clicked over to her email.

She’d deleted several junk emails without reading them when her eyes fell on one from McKenzie Palmer, a local woman who wrote a blog on all things “ACK.” If McKenzie wanted to hire The Good Life to plan an event, it could mean huge things for a somewhat-new private concierge business.

She clicked on the email.

Dear Miss Chambers,

I heard about your brush with death and the Coast Guardsman who saved your life. I’ve been wanting to branch out a little and feature local stories of heroism on my blog, and I wondered if you might be willing to share your story with me? It could be great exposure for you and your little business.

Time is of the essence. If we’re going to do this, we should get something out before people lose interest and the next swimmer nearly drowns.

Sincerely,

McKenzie Palmer

Louisa’s eyes darted back to the words little business, and she tried not to let them irritate her. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bothersome if she hadn’t heard it before.

If McKenzie wanted to feature her business, that would be one thing, but telling the world she’d stupidly gone out into the choppy and unsafe waters without a life vest? No thank you.

She clicked Reply and started typing:

Dear Miss Palmer,

Thank you so much for reaching out. While I appreciate your interest in my story, I think I would prefer to keep this one to myself. If you’d like to discuss The Good Life or any other aspect of Nantucket, however, I would be excited to connect.

Have a wonderful day,

Louisa Chambers