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Dreamed of that my whole life. I knew when I moved to Manhattan that the odds of my being forced to return home inside the first year were, if not 100 percent, damn close to it.”
    â€œBut you didn’t.”
    She shook her head, then let out a dry snort. “I was sooo determined. I was a one-woman tsunami of determination. I had a business plan, and it was smart, ruthless, and the only way I saw to get what I wanted. I took on clients who wanted work I thought would make me look good, would earn me the kind of respect I’d need to be taken seriously, knowing I had to make my mark first. And, frankly, it was the kind of work I pictured myself doing once I moved to the city. Of course, if I was crazy lucky enough to earn even a modicum of success, then I knew I’d be able to add in the kind of work that was more personal to me. But, to be honest, the longer I was in the city, the more I tried to convince myself that that wasn’t who I really was. Not anymore. As if that was the younger, inexperienced, small-town me, and now I was older, wiser, and a more mature, contemporary, big-city designer.”
    â€œOnly . . .” he prodded, when she didn’t immediately continue.
    â€œOnly . . . it turned out that when I became successful for doing the kind of work that earned me the respect of folks who I honestly didn’t respect in return, then that was the only kind of work, and the only kind of clients, who wanted me. After a while, I really didn’t see a way out, and I don’t know that I had any real confidence in what my original vision was, or if it was something worth pursuing with any seriousness.” She looked up at him. “I guess, to be really honest, when I considered that, thought about what would make me truly happy as a designer, not simply make me a successful one, I was afraid my real design style would get me laughed out of town.” She shrugged, both shoulders this time. “So, when I saw Hannah basically do the same thing, it gave me the courage to save them the effort, and me the embarrassment, and take myself out of town first.”
    â€œAre you here until you figure out how to go back as the real Fiona McCrae?”
    She was surprised by the question, and it felt good to laugh. She should do more of that. She hadn’t realized, really, until that moment, how little even her day-to-day life amused her anymore. “I’m only just now really admitting, even to myself, who the real me is, design-wise. I’m not the city me, but I’m not the small-town designer I was, either. My time in New York changed me, broadened my scope, and taught me so much. So I need to figure out who I am now, what I want to do now. But no,” she said, “New York is definitely not where I want to be.” There was a surprising relief in knowing the truth of those words. “It was a part of my journey, but not, apparently, my final destination.” She grinned. “Besides, they aren’t ready for the real Fiona McCrae, whoever she is, nor would they know what to do with her if they had her. I think we’re both going to be a whole lot happier if we leave those two worlds forever apart.”
    â€œSo . . . you’re opening up shop here then? In the Cove?”
    She laughed again, more openly this time. “You sound so disturbed at the very idea. Pretty much the same reaction I got from my clients and fellow designers when I told them what I was doing. Which just cemented, really, the decision to go. Maybe the bigger surprise is that I lasted as long as I did.” She leaned a hip against the center island and, finally, for the first time, felt at ease and relaxed with him. Why was that so hard? “Have you become a landscaping design snob down there in Rhode Island?”
    â€œNo,” he said, chuckling. “I didn’t mean it like that. I—” He broke off, and his smile shifted to that endearing grin she’d