Epilogue
Wells
Winter blustered in with all the glow and glory of a soldier returning home after a life-altering tour.
It’s my birthday, two weeks before Christmas, a whirlwind four months since Victory and I said the three magic words that unleashed our hearts, untethering hers from the past. Harvey isn’t gone by any means.
I still thank him when I take a candy from the dish, and every once in a while, I catch Victory with a faraway expression, and I know she’s thinking of him.
Or we’ll do something that strikes a memory, and she’ll share it with me.
She took me to their favorite tavern, and a month later I surprised her by having the tavern put a drink on the menu called the Harvey Bauer.
We’ve had our share of ups and downs blending our busy lives and navigating between the island and the city while dealing with my new restaurant renovations—we secured the property on the water in our first meeting with Kane—but the highs have far outweighed the lows.
Introducing me to her work colleagues was only the beginning of the changes she had in store for her work life.
They loved me, of course, and were thrilled that Victory was with someone who adored her.
We had a blast at their holiday party last weekend, when she announced Padma’s promotion.
Victory delegated much of her oversight, easing her schedule enough to do what she loves most in the new year, scouting talent.
It’s amazing to see the woman I love so happy and free, and yes, even in the cold winter months, we enjoy our walkabouts, trekabouts, flitabouts, and scoutabouts, and WordLink is still our favorite game when we’re apart.
Well, that and sexting. I do enjoy her paybacks.
We’re meeting for dinner after work to celebrate my birthday.
I’m at the restaurant checking out the latest renovations with Seth and Jared.
It’s just after four, and beyond the accordion-style glass doors, the sun is already starting to fade, casting shadows across the dock.
Victory was spot-on with her vision of those glass doors on either side of the building.
We’ve maximized the natural light and water views.
Vaulted ceilings with rough-hewn beams and unique elongated arabesque-shaped distressed Italian tile floors in earth tones, blues, and yellows give the rustic feel we were hoping for.
The rooms are framed, and the kitchen is coming along nicely.
The addition of a rooftop dining area will make an ideal spot for private parties and office gatherings.
Jared comes out of the kitchen, heading our way.
He’s a hell of a smart guy and an incredible chef, but the tattooed Adam Levine lookalike must have caffeine running through his veins.
If his legs aren’t moving, the muscles in his jaw are.
“The kitchen looks great. The whole place does.” He starts pacing.
“The live-edge bar and sea-glass tiling are going to look sharp.”
“Absolutely,” I say. “I heard back from Roddy a few days ago. He’s got a line on ships’ wheels for chandeliers. The shipment should come in right after the holidays. I put his supplier in touch with Rich.” Rich is our project manager.
“I talked to Rich this morning. They’ve already been in touch. We should be good to go with the grand opening in March,” Seth says. “Shea is rolling out the marketing and PR after the holidays.”
“Awesome,” Jared says.
My phone chimes with a text.
Fitz: Just got to the resort. Check this out.
A picture pops up of a crystal-clear infinity pool looking out over stone patios and a lush landscape with colorful plants and palm trees, and just beyond, a stretch of beach and turquoise-blue water.
Me: Awesome. Make sure it’s not all work and no play.
Fitz has been stuck on the girl he had a fling with this summer, but for all their texting, she always has an excuse when he wants to see her.
Fitz: Seminars daily. Evening events. Not much free time, but I’m hoping to catch some waves.
Me: Make it happen. You deserve it.
As I pocket my phone, Seth lifts his chin. “Was that Vic?”
“No, it’s Fitz. He just got to Costa Rica for a conference.”
Jared saunters over. “Lucky bastard.”
“Is he staying through the holidays, or will we see him when we come to the island?” Seth asks.
Victory and I spent Thanksgiving with her family in Ridgeport, and my family joined us there. We’re heading back to the island for Christmas with my family next week, and Seth and the rest of their family are going to celebrate with us. I’m looking forward to it.
“He’ll be back by then. I told him he should stay until after New Year’s, but he hates being away from the island. Jared, do you have plans for the holiday?”
He stops pacing and rakes a hand through his dark hair. “I’m going to Jace’s in Maryland to see my nephew, Maximus. He’s the cutest little fucker.” He heads for the glass doors.
Seth laughs and shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure Jace and Dixie wouldn’t want you calling him that. Are you seeing Izzy while you’re there?”
“Depends if she’s talking to me or not.” Jared paces again.
“Is that the girl who came to see you in October?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Jared says. “I was on her shit list then, too.”
The entrance door opens, and a young guy steps inside. “Excuse me. I’m from Expediate Couriers. I’m looking for Wells Silver.”
“That’s me.” I head over to him.
“Great. This is for you.” He hands me a scroll of aged paper with a piece of twine tied around it.
“Thanks. Who is this from?”
“I don’t know, man. I’m just the delivery guy and driver. I’ll wait for you out front. Take your time.” He heads out the door.
Wait for me? I untie the twine and open the scroll, taking in the burnt edges of a hand-drawn treasure map.
My heart soars. Start here is written next to a drawing of a car and waves, indicating water.
A dotted line snakes and curves around pictures of a tree and buildings, leading to a cocktail glass.
More sharp turns and arrows lead to flowers in a vase.
The dotted line whips and curls, landing on a cupcake, which leads to some kind of cart.
The next line leads to a musical note, and after more jags and turns, the treasure map ends with a heart.
I glance at Seth. “Did you know about this?”
He shrugs, shaking his head.
“Bullshit.” Jared hikes a thumb at Seth. “That’s his lie face.”
“I don’t have a lie face,” Seth insists.
“My ass you don’t…”
As they argue, I say, “Are we good here? Can I take off?”
“Yeah, man, g— ”
I’m out the door before Jared finishes his sentence, racing up to the parking lot where the delivery guy is leaning against the car, his arms crossed. “Hi. I’m supposed to go with you?”
“That’s right.”
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You tell me.” He opens the back door and points to an envelope on the seat. Then he climbs behind the wheel.
I get in and open the envelope. Inside is a sliver of paper with Go to the place where you took my widow cherry. I chuckle and give the driver the name of the hotel where Victory and I first got together. I can’t believe she did this.
When we get to the hotel, I take out my wallet to pay, and the driver says, “It’s already paid for. Don’t take this wrong, man, but I’m supposed to tell you, Good boy. Now go to the place where I first flirted with trouble. That’s from her , not me.”
“Yeah, I got it. Thanks.”
Adrenaline rushes through my veins as I climb out of the car and head around the corner, passing a tree on the sidewalk that I hadn’t remembered was there. When I get to the bar where I first saw her through the window, I glance through the glass, expecting to see Victory sitting there. She’s not.
I head inside to look for her. As I walk by the bar, the bartender calls out, “Hey! Are you Wells?”
“Yes.” How the hell did he know?
“I got something for you.” He grabs a bottle of whiskey with a red ribbon around it and holds it up so I can see it before putting it in a bag. As he hands it to me, he says, “I have a message for you. Go to the place that reminds you of Olivier. Au revoir.”
“Thanks.” I head out of the bar, and suddenly the flowers in a vase make sense. They were on the table at the French café. I grab a cab and head there.
I’m too excited to slow down as I burst through the café door, quickly scanning every table, but Victory isn’t there, either.
“I take it you’re Wells?” the hostess asks.
“Yes, I am.”
“Give me just a moment.” She heads into the kitchen and comes out with a large bag. As she hands it to me, she says, “Your next stop is where you rubbed elbows with celebrities.”
“Thanks!” My mind skips through memories as I put the bag with the whiskey bottle in the larger bag where several to-go containers are giving off savory aromas.
I rush out and grab another cab, heading to the rooftop bar where I crashed Cage’s birthday party. When I get up to the roof, I search for Victory again, but she’s nowhere to be found. I head over to the bar, and a young brunette calls after me. “Are you Wells?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“The person who told me to look for you sent a picture. Sorry, I was supposed to meet you at the door, but I had to take care of something in the kitchen. Come with me.”
I follow her back to the entrance, and she hands me a bakery box. “Good luck unscrambling your next clue.”
“Thanks.” I wait for her to give me the clue, and when she doesn’t, I say, “Do you have a message from Victory for me?”
“No, sorry. The woman who called said to just give you the box, but her name was Victorious, not Victory.”
That’s my girl. “Thanks.” I head out perplexed, and when I get in the elevator, I open the box. There are two pink-frosted cupcakes, and on the inside of the box top, she’s drawn Scrabble tiles with the letters Z , P , E , E , L , T , R , S on them. You sweet, sneaky thing.