Eric had shown his true colors the second she told him about The Good Life. Then she went back and thought of the many little ways he’d made her feel small. Twice he’d asked her to “put on something more professional” when heading out to a work event. Once he told her not to laugh so much because it made her seem much younger than she was. And then there was the time he’d belittled her in front of a hotel guest because she was “incessantly chatty.” “Mrs. Sandstone isn’t your friend, Louisa. She simply wants her theatre tickets.”

Louisa hated the way he made her feel. She was determined to never let anyone else treat her that way.

The thought twisted something inside her. She could never go through that again. She would follow Cody’s lead and focus only on business.

She’d pretend it didn’t even faze her that he’d gotten Jetty burgers. Her favorite. She liked them loaded with ketchup, pickles, onions, lettuce, and—she drew in another breath—“Did you get bacon?”

He appeared to be stifling a smile.

Louisa knew she had a long way to go at winning him over, but a stifled smile was a start. She couldn’t let herself love him, but maybe they could at least be friends?

She moved out of the doorway and motioned for him to come in. He stood awkwardly in the entryway. They should’ve met somewhere public, somewhere with no memories attached to it.

“I thought we could eat out back,” she said. Right, because there were no memories out there. She hadn’t thought this through. “Or maybe in the kitchen?”

Years ago, when they were all together, they only ate indoors if it rained. Her mind spun back to one bright afternoon when she and Cody were about twelve. Her parents brought sides and dessert, but Cody’s dad was always in charge of the main course. He called himself “the Grillmaster,” and Louisa believed it. One year her family arrived on the island with a set of barbecue tools and a long apron they’d had printed with that title right on it.

Wonder what happened to that apron . . .

After a full day on the beach, Louisa’s freckles had popped, her milky-white skin had burned, and she was ravenously hungry. Cody’s shoulders were the color of darkened toast, and his hair had lightened in the bright summer sun.

They were out back when the storm started, and while everyone else ran for cover, Daniel stayed on the deck, flipping burgers and “saving dinner.” Cody, Marley, and Louisa stood on the dry side of the glass door with her parents and his mom, motioning for Mr. Boggs to come inside.

“We’ll make something else, Daniel! The storm is too bad!” Marissa called out, struggling to be heard over the fierce downpour.