“You buy a crappy house with potential no one else sees. You do the necessary renovations without overimproving the property. And then you sell it quickly for a very nice profit,” he explained with strained patience.

“Why do you think I’d deviate now on this house? We doubled our return on the last place.”

“It was ocean block on one of the nicest beaches in Oregon. You were selling the literal American dream. Who the hell is going to pay seven figures—which is what you’re going to have to list this place at—for some million-room Victorian monstrosity on a hill in fucking Idaho?” Dean’s strained patience cracked and then shattered. “God. You’re giving me flashbacks to our marriage.”

Maggie used a bandanna in her pocket to wipe plaster dust off her face. She hadn’t told him, her best friend and partner, why this place. Why she’d been waiting what felt like a lifetime for this opportunity.

She tucked the bandanna back in place and put her hands on his shoulders. “You’ve spent the last year talking me into leveling up. We’re knocking on a million subscribers. We’ve got real advertising dollars coming in. The finale for the last place hasn’t aired yet, but when it does, it’s gonna be big. I trust you to handle the leveling up. But you have to trust me to make the calls that I know are right when it comes to the work. That’s why we work as partners.”

He looked tired, defeated…uncaffeinated.

“Did the café accidentally switch you to decaf?” she asked with a frown.

Dean sighed. “It’s not the coffee.”

Now she was worried. “What is it?”

“Will.” The name came out with equal parts pain and annoyance.

“What about Will? Did he call?”

He shook his head. “Worse. He’s engaged.”

She winced. Will had been Dean’s longest relationship, beating their own marriage. “Oh. Shit,” she said. “I’m sorry. You’ll meet someone. Someone great.”

His laugh was bitter. “How? We’re on the road practically year-round. You expect us to work around the damn clock and give me shit every time I take a day off. I’m not going to meet someone who is either willing to stay home and wait for me to drop by once every two months or someone who is happy to tag along on the road. Neither are you.”

“I guess that’s why you and I work so well together. We like the road, the unroutine.” She said the words lightly but inside felt long-buried anxiety stirring up. Like he was about to tell her something that was going to change her life all over again. If she could just keep him from saying the words, maybe they both could pretend everything was fine.

Dean took a breath, and she fought the urge to put her fingers in her ears.