“We both know that’s not true.” Grace sat next to her. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Fresh tears dripped down her cheeks. “I’m on my honeymoon.”

“Then you should be happy, not sad,” Grace said.

“But…I can’t talk about it.”

“Sure you can.” Grace patted her knee. “I’m not sure I can help, but I can certainly listen.”

Logan halted halfway across the lobby when he spotted Grace deep in conversation with one of the hotel guests. They sat by the tropical waterfall and he approached cautiously, not wanting to make a scene. But caution wasn’t necessary. The women were so engrossed in their chat, they didn’t notice him.

Grace was dressed for work in her bikini top and sarong, and Logan knew without checking his watch that her shift was about to begin. So what was she doing out here? He stepped closer.

“So if he spends more time right here at this spot,” Grace said, tapping her notepad with her pen, “I think you’ll be very happy.”

The young woman took Grace’s notepad and stared at some diagram she’d drawn. “Are you sure it’s right there? He didn’t seem to get anywhere near that spot.”

“But he will,” Grace said. She took the notepad, tore out the page with the diagram and handed it to the woman. “It’ll make a big difference, I promise.”

“I hope so,” the woman said with a watery smile. “I don’t want to spend my entire honeymoon crying.”

“I’m sure your husband doesn’t want that, either.”

The woman hugged Grace, then jumped up. “You’re so smart. Thank you.”

Grace looked at her wristwatch and stood. “Please let me know how it goes. I work in the cocktail lounge in the evening or you can find me on the beach most mornings.”

“I will.” She waved the piece of paper as she hurried away.

Grace waved, then turned toward the cocktail lounge-and gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“I own the place,” Logan said, folding his arms across his chest. “What was that all about?”