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  “Say it,” Lily whispered to the empty room, looking at the screen to check the time Zee had called. Three hours before. That meant it was early evening in Hawaii, around six p.m. She was likely starting her shift. She’d probably be on it for twenty-four hours, catching naps when she could.

  Lily selected the speaker icon as Zinnia’s voice went on mumbling, procrastinating and the fear that seized up Lily’s chest tightened at her next words.

  “I…I haven’t told you because I didn’t think it would turn into anything. I mean, God, I’m an intern. I have zero time for…for anything outside of the hospital but…I…I met someone and Lil, he’s brilliant and beautiful and…well, I love him. It’s only been a few months but I love him. Like, I really and truly love him.” The laughter started up again and Lily could see how Zee’s face would look—all excited and hopeful, like a kid getting off a roller coaster for the first time, wanting to immediately do it again. Death and struggle makes a person cautious. God knew that was the reality of their lives for over a decade, but they also made one fearless. They made people want to seize moments, capture them and hold them close in case that promised tomorrow never came. That embrace of the fearless had Lily and Zee cliff diving whenever they went home to the island. It had them tandem diving off waterfalls and seeking out the scariest, meanest, most insane amusement park rides. They’d always craved the fear. It made them feel alive.

  But this? Love? This giddy excitement? Lily knew it might come one day but so soon? When Zee was barely twenty-three? With her schedule? How the hell did that happen?

  Lily sat on her bed, the towel around her head loosening until she tugged it off as the thin silk robe she wore fell from one shoulder. Zinnia’s voice sounded awed, excited and without realizing she did it, Lily held her breath when her niece spoke again.

  “I know what you’ll say…that I’m too young and this is all so fast, but I really believe when you know…you just know, right? And well, Ano, my…my man…he asked and I said yes, and we wanna do it soon and I could use your help because, well…we’re engaged, Lil. Ano and I…we’re getting married.”

  Lily’s heart stopped. Just for a second, four small breaths that caught in her lungs and prevented anything but shock from moving around her chest. Marriage and Zinnia? The girl who swore she’d be married to her work. She wanted to operate. She wanted to prevent heart disease and make heart attacks and birth defects things of the past. She wanted to save the world or, at the very least, change it forever.

  “Who has time for boys?” That, a twenty-year-old Zee had asked Lily just a few years back on a rare visit to New Orleans. Those nosey yoga bitches at the studio had practically jumped on her niece when they’d finished up class. Hawaii, Lily suspected, to them meant half-naked men and fire dancers. They believed the stereotypes and wanted details. They wanted visuals, but Zinnia had set them straight and made a promise in the process. “I’ll get married when I’ve cured the world of heart disease. But only if Taylor Kinney is still single or maybe if they discover Jackson Avery is real and available and totally into white girls with big booties.”

  What the hell had changed? That small promise had happened only three short years ago. Three years where Zinnia had kept herself busy with finishing med school and starting her internship. Neither one of those circumstances left much room for relationships, certainly not one that would change her mind so completely.

  Lily shot into action as soon as the message ended. She wasn’t sure if her heart would ever beat normally again or if she’d ever be able to still the tremble in her hands. She only knew that moving would help. She kept busy pacing, pulling out her suitcase from the large walk-in closet, and grabbing bras and underwear, shirts and bottoms, taking no real notice at all whether they even matched. Lily simply needed to move, to stay in motion as she replayed the message and dissected each inflection in Zee’s voice, each word she’d chosen to make her clumsy, procrastinating speech.

  “We’re getting married…”

  It rang out of the cell speaker and echoed around Lily’s mind like a jingle she couldn’t keep from her thoughts; just as irritating, just as unwelcome. Marriage? At her age? After only three months? No. That couldn’t…that wouldn’t happen.

  In the hurry she made to throw clothes in her suitcase, Lily toppled over her clutch, the contents spilling out onto the thick area rug under her feet like glitter. She dropped the sundress gripped between her fingers and bent to pick up the mess, clutching medicine bottles and pens, small receipts and tokens from the casino before she caught sight of a small business card—white font on a black background and Kona’s name outlined in blue. The print was neat, precise and a large blue devil was silhouetted in the background of the card—Kona had taken a position with Claireborne-Prosper University, as coach on their defensive line. Fleetingly, Lily thought it was a good fit and she guessed his new family situation would keep him out of the NFL. Selfishly, she was glad he wasn’t still playing. If he had been, their paths would have never likely crossed. But they had. In that bar, with a long chat about the past and home and the reminders of what Lily had missed.

  She glanced at the clock on her bedside table, forgetting the contents of her purse, deciding that an apology would come easier than permission as she dialed Kona's private cell number on the card. She needed a favor, and only he could help her at that moment.

  Chapter Five

  Lincoln Wells was in a good mood. It had started with the Lieber case—small little corporate outfit that had gotten over its head, but then, that was to be expected. Happened all the time, those old school cable and phone companies that couldn’t keep up with the speed of technology. Lieber fell behind and Lincoln got assigned to the case, making sure that they stayed well behind.

  “Jessie,” he called to his assistant through the open door, just as he closed his laptop and whistled, packing away his files in the soft lambskin case Ellis had given Lincoln as a five-year anniversary gift. “Did the housekeeper make it to the cabin?” He didn’t wait for her to answer, smiling to himself when he imagined Lily stretched out and half naked in a small bikini on his cabin dock. He’d been waiting for the opportunity to be alone with her, and thank God it finally had arrived. Besides, Lily being away from the office left things open for him. It made her vulnerable, just the way he liked his women.

  Jessie came into his office and fidgeted. She always did that and it irritated Lincoln. Calm the nervous hand shaking, he thought to himself, barely passing a glance her way as he dug in his desk drawer for the laptop charger. “Make sure you have the housekeeper text me the second Lily makes it to the cabin. I want everything pristine for our visit.”

  It was the “our” in his sentence that brought out the stretching smile, that and the recurring image of Lily half naked. An alarm rang on his cell and Lincoln pulled the phone from his pocket, noticing with little thought that Lily should have made it to the cabin well before now. But then, Lincoln had been tied up in the mess her absence caused and hadn’t had much time to call the housekeeper or the driver from the service.

  He frowned, realizing it had been much too long, nearly five hours and still no call. “Did the driver check in? Or the maid?”

  Jessie stilled the annoying fidgeting long enough that Lincoln stopped his packing to watch her. When she went on gawking at him, he pinched the bridge of his nose, releasing a long exhale that got the woman speaking.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Campbell canceled the ticket.”

  “She…what?” The damn woman only stared back at him, pulling on her collar like she worried he was going to pounce on her. For two years Jessie had been his assistant and she still acted like she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown anytime he stared at her. Another long, slow breath and Lincoln relaxed, shoulders drawn down, hands in his pockets. When he spoke again, he took care to keep his tone level, calm without sounding like a coward. “Jessie, are you saying Miss Campbell did not use the ticket you scheduled for her?” The woman
nodded and a small twitch moved under Lincoln’s left eye. “Did she give an explanation? Maybe she decided to go to the cabin later on in the weekend, or maybe next week?”

  “No…” Jessie cleared her throat, pulling her hands behind her as though the fidgeted had started up again and she didn’t want Lincoln to know. “Her assistant, Sarah, she informed me that Miss Campbell declined the ticket and would be spending her…the vacation time…in Hawaii, sir.”

  “Hawaii?”

  “Yes…yes, Mr. Wells. I believe that is where Miss Campbell grew up.”

  “I know where she grew up!” Lincoln snapped, balling his fists tight as Jessie watched him. There was a flush of color painting her cheeks and he tried to contain his disappointment and the fresh wave of anger that bubbled inside him. Lincoln didn’t have the energy to pacify her. “I’m aware where Miss Campbell grew up.” Behind him, Loyola Avenue was dark with only the rush of headlights and the dim, yellow streetlight illuminating the pavement. He looked out of the window, head shaking as he tried to regroup.

  Lily had made no promises, but Lincoln had believed he’d convinced her. No one said no to him, especially when he did them favors. He’d had his assistant make the travel arrangements. Everything was waiting for her.

  The issues with the pictures, with all the drama and worry they caused the partners should have been enough to convince Lily to accept Lincoln’s offer. She didn’t need to know he’d planned to join her. She wouldn’t mind, he was sure of that. Maybe being out there on the lake, secluded from the worry caused by those pictures and their own hectic schedules, would give Lily the opportunity to remember what could have been; what had almost been between them before she brushed him off. Him, of all people. And there were other opportunities Lincoln planned. The ones involving what she knew about her client’s next move. If he could find that out, and use it to his advantage, the junior partnership would be his, not Lily’s.

  But all that opportunity was gone now. Disappointment and a hefty amount of frustration clouded Lincoln’s mind, made his throat tighten and his jaw tense. “That’s…all, Jessie. Thank you.”

  He heard the swift click of her heals against the tiled floor, and then his office door shut. “Son of a bitch,” he said aloud, grabbing his cell to scan through the messages he’d missed while he ran the deposition. Two from his mother, one from his client just before they’d met and then another that came just before seven a.m. That typically was the time set for long flights out of Louis Armstrong International.

  “Clever.” And it was. If Lily wanted to avoid the effort he’d have made trying to convince to forget about Hawaii and head to the mountains, then it would have been the perfect time to text him. She’d know his schedule, it mirrored hers most days. She must have known he’d be in meetings and by the time he’d read her message, she’d be flying toward the Pacific.

  “Very clever.”

  Lily had made things difficult. She’d kept her distance, kept their relationship platonic, and Lincoln understood why. It was hard for a woman, he imagined, trying to make a name for herself in a business that was made for men. But damn if he wasn’t tired of her pushing him away. He’d worked hard to keep up the pretense. He’d worked harder than he ever had with getting this woman and Lincoln Wells wasn’t a man who had to work hard for women at all.

  Thoughts of Lily on the beach, her skin wet from the salt water, glistening in the hot sun ruffled that anger and the burn of frustration he felt coiling in his gut shifted, aided by his imagination and the challenge he knew she’d laid at his feet. That had to be it. Lily was playing a game, and Lincoln always won anytime he found an opening.

  He crossed his office, opening the door to call a quick “Jessie?” He managed an easy laugh when she jumped, swiveling in her chair to stare at him. “Get on the phone. I need my travel agent and a first class ticket to Hawaii.”

  Chapter Six

  It was a teaching hospital. That’s what Lily had heard over and over as she moved through the corridors at the U of H hospital. “Teaching” meant patients would have to be, well, patient. It meant IVs got inserted correctly, eventually, and that the bruises on their hands and near their blown veins would have to be considered “necessary risks” when you went in for a checkup.

  The hallways were thick with people milling around the ER and into the corridors that led to the other departments where various injuries and ailments were treated. There were large waiting areas that joined the differing departments and Lily wandered around, tugging a small bag on wheels behind her, looking for the light blue scrubs, what the interns wore if memory served, that might lead her to Zinnia.

  Her stomach coiled and she tasted a hint of bile rising as she passed the ICU doors, locked and warning that visitors would be limited. Lily knew the drill. She’d spent two full days, forty-eight hours leaning against those doors when visitors were banned and the rest of her time inside the small room filled with machines and monitors that helped to keep Liam alive. She tried not to look as she passed. She tried reminding herself that Liam wasn’t there. Nothing in that place could haunt her. So why was breathing difficult? Why did she increase each step as she hurried by those doors?

  Memories. They were everywhere. They moved alongside Lily as she followed two small girls in light blue robes barreling in front of her.

  “I call dibs on Reynolds,” one of them was saying, jogging next to her friend. From the way they moved, Lily half-expected her to shove an elbow into her friend’s ribs.

  “No way. You got him last time. You aren’t sticking me with Hickman again. He doesn’t let anyone assist. Egomaniac.”

  They went on arguing, their pace faster than Lily’s, but she kept her attention on them, minding which way they went as she followed behind. The hospital had been painted. The walls were a split of cream and gray now, with blond wood trim and mahogany handrails in the center that Lily touched to straighten herself and the heavy bag on her shoulder before she continued toward the jogging, arguing interns.

  She’d run through these corridors before too. Once when her mother’s white blood cell counts became nonexistent, the other time when Randell and some hospital worker led her toward the ICU to see her dying brother.

  Lily shook off the memories, not willing to recall them with too much detail. It had always been hard for her to return after Liam died. There were too many wounds that sharpened and bit into her heart when she got here. Too many of those promises that got forgotten. Now she’d come to see Zee; see her and do her best to convince her not to throw away everything she’d worked so hard to do for herself. Not for some guy. Not for a stranger she barely knew.

  At the end of the corridor, Lily came to a large receptionist’s area. There were nurses passing over charts and doctors in dark blue scrubs, some in black, scribbling into folders and moving everywhere away from the desk, toward the open doors of the rooms that flanked the area. It reminded Lily of a ballet—how the activity collided and bustled, how these people moved with a choreography that helped and hindered. There was plenty of both from her vantage point. It was midday, on a Saturday, and it seemed Friday’s patients were still being handled; there were families hovering around those open doors and interns from what Lily knew of Zee’s colleagues that traded tasks—lab work and blood drawing, from the bickering she heard and the odd bribe of laundry duties and scutwork trade for chances to assist in surgery.

  “Dog-eat-dog, Lil,” Zinnia had once explained to Lily when she asked her niece about how she landed surgeries. She wanted to specialize in cardiovascular work, but had bragged about a gallstone surgery she got to sit in on and two liver transplants. “Those fools always try to bet me I can’t get through my scut fast enough, or they’ll swear to do my laundry if I run labs for them so they can be ready when rounds happen and our chief resident hands out assignments.”

  “And how do you manage to win those bets and land the surgeries so often?” Lily had asked her.

  “Easy. I ran track in high sc
hool, remember? So I can maneuver the hallways in under five minutes flat. Also, I do my laundry when I can’t sleep and, God I can’t ever sleep. Besides, I don’t bother with underwear most of the time. Laundry’s not complicated for me.”

  Lily watched for several minutes, seeing the activity as some sort of fascination that reminded her of watching a trapeze artist flying through the air. There were so many people doing so many different things that for a moment she forgot why she was there, standing in the center of the chaos. But then she heard an intake of breath to her right, and a familiar, loud squeal that might have been her name and, before Lily understood what happened, Zinnia ran toward her and Lily turned just in time to catch her niece as she jumped at her, arms and legs tangling around her as though Zee was a tiny four-year-old and not the grown woman with long legs she was.

  “Lil! Oh God, Lily, you’re here!” This Zinnia shouted against Lily’s neck as she squeezed her in a vice-like hug. “I can’t believe it. I cannot…” She went on and on that way for several minutes until Lily recognized the quake of her words and how her voice shook.

  “Zee, you gotta let me breathe,” she tried, laughing when her niece reluctantly released her, staring back at Lily with her face blotched and damp from her tears. “Let me see you,” she said, holding the girl’s face still. No bruises, no dark circles or bags under her eyes, despite the schedule Lily knew she kept. “You’ve lost weight.” Lily moved Zee’s face to the left and right, not liking how thin she’d gotten or how pale she seemed. “Do you ever get to the beach? You look like a real haole.”