Page 65 of Regards, Mia

“Why?” she asks, definitely laughing. “What’s wrong with bankers? I like bankers.”

“No way I can wear this now.” I sort through my clothes, looking for something less colorful.

Mia comes over and puts her hand on my arm. “Don’t change,” she says. “You look great.”

I turn and look at her, giving her a thorough glance from head to toe. She’s wearing a pale pink sundress with a halter top and a full skirt. High heeled sandals give her an extra few inches of height, and her hair and makeup are perfect. She looks like she is ready for a photo shoot, not as if she’s been traveling all day, drinking more than her fair share of Champagne.

“Don’t look at me like that, or I won’t leave.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her not to leave. Instead, she should stay here and let me help her out of her dress. But, like any self-respecting not-pretend boyfriend, I put Mia first and walk her to the door.

Golf is more enjoyable than I’d thought. Max is exactly as Miadescribed, and Brad doesn’t act anything like a celebrity. I’m paired with Mia’s dad, and he keeps me entertained for hours with stories about Mia.

“She’s always been unstoppable,” Owen says, launching into a story about how Mia started volunteer clubs in middle school, was the president of her sorority in college, and was the first woman in their family to earn a law degree.

Max has stories to add about how he’d paid Mia to write his college essays, and Brad chimes in about the time she secured fake I.D.s for all of them before they were legal.

When we are finished with the game, Owen pulls me aside and tells me how happy he is Mia and I found each other.

“I have a good feeling about you two,” he says, shaking my hand. “Don’t screw it up.”

“I won’t, Mr. James.”

“It’s Owen,” he says, striding off through the lobby.

When I get back to my room, Mia is standing on my balcony, looking out over the spectacular view of pristine white sand and turquoise ocean.

She’s still wearing the dress she had on earlier with the tricky zipper, and I wonder if she can’t get out of it.

I’m glad to volunteer my services.

“Why is your view better than mine?” she asks, turning around to look at me.

I step out on the patio and slip my arm around her waist. “I’m just lucky, I guess.”

She turns and wraps her arms around my neck. “How was your day, dear?”

She’s asked me the same question nearly every day for a month, but it feels different here on the island, where we are really a couple. “I spent the whole day hitting a tiny ball and listening to stories about you as a kid.”

She rolls her eyes. “Sounds terrible.”

“Max is exactly as great as you warned me he would be.”

“He’s happy.”

“I hope so. He’s getting married.”

Mia narrows her eyes at me, her fingers combing through my hair. “How come you aren’t married?”

I take a long time to answer. “I’m not the marrying kind.”

She smiles sadly. “Neither am I. Marriage is overrated. The divorce rate is nearly fifty percent. Why bother?”

“I agree.”

“I thought we were opposites when we met,” she says. “But we actually have a lot in common.”

I tighten my fingers at her waist. “Brad told me I helped him win a bet with his wife.”

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