After the most perfect weekend, with the most perfect boyfriend, Maizee showed up at the bank. Again. It was almost like a dark cloud had descended on her as she drove from her place to Gladstone Financial, Getaway Bay Branch. While the front doors faced the beach, there was no salty spray to be felt, and no breeze to keep her cool.
Just the tellers. The desks. Her glassed-in office where she was supposed to pretend like she was busy.
She thought about another type of glassed-in object—the submarine that went around Lanai and showed people the underwater life up close and personal. She’d told Lawrence she wanted to be a tour guide for an operation like that, and she wondered if Getaway Bay had anything similar.
Surely they must, she thought to herself as she sat at her desk and woke her
