A soft knock sounded on his office door and he swung his feet off the desk and stood. When he pulled the door open, his mother stood on the other side, a huge plant in her arms.

"Ma," he said, grabbing the plant. "What are you doing here?"

"I brought you an office-warming gift. A plant always brightens up any decor."

"How did you know where to find the place?"

"It's all everyone's been talking about at the pub. Your da's been passing out your business cards like free beer on St. Paddy's Day."

Sean grabbed a stack of newspapers from the seat of an old wooden chair and dusted it off with his hand. "Have a seat."

Fiona smiled, pleased by the offer. "This is a nice office. Lots of light." She glanced around. "When your da and I first moved to Southie, there used to be an accountant's office here." She shook her head. "That was a lifetime ago. So, this is a big step, isn't it? Your own office."

Sean nodded and sat. "I have stationery, too. When I do my reports they'll look really official. And look at that." He pointed over his shoulder. "I've got a fax machine and a computer. I bought the fax secondhand from Rafe, and Brian gave me his old computer. I'm even thinking about getting a Web site. And when I have enough money, maybe a secretary."

"You've got everything you need," Fiona said.

"Yeah." Sean paused. "Well, not everything."

A long silence grew between them, Fiona fussing with a loose button on her sweater and Sean tapping a pen on his desk.

"What happened with Laurel?" she finally asked.

Sean shrugged. A month ago he could barely stand to be in the same room with his mother and now he felt comfortable enough to confide in her. Jeez, it was hard to believe he was the same guy. "I don't know. It just ended-as quickly as it began. No reason. Or maybe we just didn't have a reason to keep it going."

"Did you argue?"

"No, we just walked away. Maybe if we'd had a few more weeks together something might have happened. But we were barely together for a week. People don't fall in love that fast."

"Your father and I did," Fiona said. "The instant I saw him I knew I'd marry him. He felt the same way. That happened a lot in Seamus's family."

"And look at what hap-" Sean snapped his mouth shut. "Sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"No," Fiona said. "You're right. Sometimes love at first sight doesn't work out." A slow smile curled her lips. "Oh, but sometimes it does. We never know until we try."

"I don't want to make a mistake. I don't want to spend my life like Da, bitter and angry, full of resentment."

"Your father and I let that happen to us," Fiona insisted. "We were both too stubborn to admit our marriage was in trouble. He didn't want to face his failures and I refused to believe I couldn't help him. Sometimes I wonder if we'd just sat down back then and talked to each other, really talked, whether things might have been different. Can you talk to this girl, Laurel?"

"I can talk to her like I've never talked to anyone. Even Brian. I can say anything to her-except maybe how much I love her."

"You love her," Fiona said.

"I do."

"Then why are you sitting here in this office telling me?"

Sean smiled ruefully. "Maybe when I figure that one out, I'll know what to do." He furrowed his hands in his hair, pressing his palms against his temples. "I should go see her."

"I think that would be best," Fiona said.

"Now?"

"Why not? There's no time like the present."

Sean pushed up from his chair and paced back and forth across the width of the tiny office. "All right. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna tell her. And if she doesn't love me, then I'll deal with it." He hurried to the door, then stopped and walked back to his mother. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said.

Just as he got to the door, Fiona called his name. "Wait, I nearly forgot the reason I came," she said. "Two weeks from Saturday we're having a family get-together at Keely's house. About five in the evening. She and Rafe are all moved in and they'd like everyone to be there." Fiona met his gaze. "I'd like everyone to be there. I know you usually don't attend family functions, but this is-"

"I'll be there," Sean said, anxious to leave.

"You will? Do you promise?" He nodded. "I promise."

"You can bring Laurel," she said.

Sean nodded, impatient to get going. "We'll see. Could you write the date in my book there, on the desk? And lock the door as you leave."

His car was parked half a block away. By the time he pulled out into traffic, he'd decided to try Dorchester first. Amy had told him that work had begun on Laurel's building and she'd been consumed with the details. If he got lucky, he'd find her there. He considered calling first, but the element of surprise would work to his advantage. If she wasn't in Dorchester he'd head out to the mansion in Cohasset.

As he drove, Sean practiced what he was going to say, knowing he'd probably only have one chance to get it right. This was the single most important moment in his life and he didn't want to mumble and bumble his way through it. "I love you," he murmured. "Laurel, I love you. I love you more than…" He cursed softly. "No, just keep it simple."

But what if she questioned his declaration? What if she asked him why he loved her? God, he wished he had Brendan along-or Brian. They'd always been so good with words. They'd be able to tell him exactly what to say to make her believe him. Sean reached into his jacket pocket for his cell phone, then thought better of the idea and tossed the phone onto the seat beside him.

"Why do I love her?" He took a deep breath. "One. I love her because she's the strongest person I've ever known. Two. Because she can see inside my soul. Three. Because when she looks at me, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world."

Sean groaned. "God, that sounds so hokey. Why do I love you, Laurel? Because when I'm with you, my life suddenly makes sense?"

He turned south toward Dorchester, weaving in and out of traffic. When he was just a few blocks from Laurel's building he pulled to the curb and took a moment to organize his thoughts. But a million words rattled around in his head and he couldn't seem to put them in any decent order.

Maybe if he had paid more attention in school he could have quoted poetry or recited a few lines from Shakespeare, but "Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo" and "To be or not to be" didn't really apply. He'd always been a man of very few words and "I love you, Laurel" was what best expressed his thoughts.

By the time he pulled up to the old storefront he'd decided simplicity would serve him best. His stomach tensed when he saw Laurel's car parked out front. As he walked to the front door he fought off a flood of nausea. "I love you, Laurel. I love you."

The door was unlocked and as he walked through the open space on the first floor the voices of construction workers and the sounds of power tools filled the air. He approached a guy holding a T square. "Hey there. I'm looking for Laurel Rand."

"She's upstairs."

Sean nodded. "Thanks." He took the stairs two at a time, anxious now to see her. It had seemed like months, years even, since he'd looked into her eyes, and he wondered if he really remembered how beautiful she was. When he got to the top of the stairs Sean stopped. Laurel stood in the cavernous room, her back to him, her face tipped up.

He watched her for a long time from the shadows of the stairwell door, watched as she slowly turned, then did a little ballet step. She held her arms above her head, went up on her toes and did three neat pirouettes. But she froze in the middle of the fourth when she saw him step into the room. Her eyes grew wide and she plopped back down on her heels.

She smoothed her hands over the front of her faded jeans. "Sean."

He took another step into the room and opened his mouth, ready to profess his love. But all that came out was her name. "Laurel," he murmured. God, she was beautiful. He'd forgotten how pale her hair was and how it curled around her face. He'd forgotten the exact color of her eyes and the perfect shape of her mouth.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I came to see you. I have something I have to tell you." He swallowed hard. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

Sean nodded. "Good. Good. You look fine. You look better than fine." He glanced around. "And the place is looking fine, too."

She smiled, confusion coloring her expression. "Everything is fine."

Hell, this was not going well. He couldn't seem to make small talk, yet he couldn't just blurt out what he'd come to say. Then an idea popped into his head. He'd go back to where it all started. "I came here because I wanted to talk to you about a problem I have."

She moved toward him. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. It's just this problem. You see, I'm in need of a… a wife. I had this one woman and we got along great. But I was a real dope and I blew it. I didn't tell her how I felt. I should have, but I was afraid she might not feel the same way about me."

"Maybe she did," Laurel murmured, her gaze fixed on his, her eyes piercing the depths of his soul.

"Maybe. Anyway, I have this proposition for you." He reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet. "I have seven… twelve… fourteen dollars here and-" he shoved his hand into the front pocket of his jeans "-and seventy-nine cents." Sean held the money out to her in the palm of his hand. "How many days will this buy me?"

"Are you asking me to be your wife again?" Her voice trembled and her gaze darted over his features, as if she was trying to see the truth there.

"I am," he said. "And I'm willing to pay you $14.79 if you say yes. But this time I don't want it to be pretend. I want to marry you for real, Laurel. I want to make a life with you."