“I came here from New York,” I say, hoping to get a reaction.

“You did? Business or pleasure?”

I gulp. “Not business, no.”

He has ice-blue eyes—my mom would call them husky eyes—and bushy, sandy eyebrows. He has an attractive face and I wish I’d feel more looking at him. Like that crazy, instantaneous attraction. Should I feel something right away? Maybe not. This is not like in the movies or books. In real life, these things build up. Maybe it’s one of those emotional connections that will take a while to catch up in real life, to get to the physical stuff.

“We’re here,” he says as he pulls in front of the inn.

We both get out of the car. I’m not leaving before asking him if he’s Max.

Susan’s not here, and Aaron gets behind the front desk. “You said you have a package? Let’s see,” he says. “Maya, Maya….”

“Maya Maas?”

“Yes. Here it is,” he says and hands me a thick yellow envelope. Finally, I have it and I’ll get some answers soon. But all my answers could be standing in front of me now.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are there many Lift drivers in Carmel?”

“A few. Me, Candace, Mr. Harris and I think there’s one more. Maybe. It’ll just be me soon, because Mr. Harris is in his eighties and his sight is not so good lately and Candace is moving to Canada. But there are plenty of drivers in Monterey and surrounding towns. Why?”

I gulp. Why. Good question.

“Just wondering. I might consider doing Lift. Wanted to see if there’s competition.”

He laughs. “Not much, no.”

“Is Lifting all you do or—”

“You’re asking if this is my full-time job? No. I’m only doing it to help my mother. Taking people to and from the inn, when I can. I’m an artist. Trying to be.”

My heart is beating like crazy. “You are? What kind of artist?”

“I’m a sculptor.”

“Oh, wow, that’s so nice.”

I stare. Every piece of the puzzle coming together.

“Can I ask you one more thing?”

“Sure. Ask away.”

“Do you know Ethan Delphy?”

He raises an eyebrow before nodding.

“We grew up together, sure. We’ve been buddies for over twenty years.”

Deep breaths. Deep breaths. “And one more thing.”

He smiles.

“You said you knew a Maya. Did you by any chance meet her last year?”

He lifts his eyes and stares at me as if he’s debating whether to answer or no.

“Maya, you’re back.” I hear Susan’s voice and turn.

“Susan, so nice to see you,” I say.

“So glad you stopped by. Just saying hello or are you staying for the karaoke?”

“Just hello,” I say smiling and as I’m saying this, I see Aaron making his way out into the hallway. “Have a great day, Maya. I hope I’ll see you again soon,” he says.

He didn’t answer my question. Why? Is it him? It must be. Everything matches.