“If I hurt your feelings I’m sorry.” Will lowered the spatula. “I’m just not used to . . .”

“. . . women like me. I get it. I’m sure I was a total shock to your system.” She hoped this shock would fade. Along with his memory of her naked.

She had the satisfaction of seeing surprise written across both of the men’s faces. “Now both of you can settle down and stop worrying about me. And you can definitely stop apologizing.” She smiled again and, though she spoke softly so as not to be overheard, she chose to end the conversation—and, she hoped, the topic—with the words that had been echoing in her head ever since William had uttered them. “It was sex. We both enjoyed it. End of story.” She shrugged and shot Will a wink. “I don’t really see the problem here. Do you, babe?”

* * *

“What’s going on with your mom and Will and Hudson?” Troy stood on the opposite side of Kyra’s table, aiming the camera at her and Dustin. Anthony aimed the boom microphone toward her mouth. She wished Will would stop talking and serve up dinner so the network duo would either sit down and eat or have something else to shoot.

“No idea.” Kyra snapped a bib around Dustin’s neck and handed him his favorite Thomas the Tank Engine plastic fork. A matching plate and sippy cup of milk sat in front of him. She busied herself with Dustin, doing her best to block an extreme close-up, but it was a good question. Her mother had been acting pretty un-Mom-like since she and Dustin had gotten back from Bella Flora. Kyra had no idea at all what had gotten into her.

“So how was the holiday in Pass-a-Grille?”

She blinked at him in surprise. “I don’t know what you—”

“Don’t insult me by trying to deny it. You and the paparazzi aren’t the only ones who know how to use a zoom lens.”

Kyra wanted to ask how he’d known and what he’d shot but she clamped her mouth shut. It was better to ignore this than to say anything at all about Daniel on camera.

“How about you, Dustin?” Troy asked. “Did you have fun at Bella Flora?”

“Buhfora!” He pounded the butt of his fork against the table happily.

“Did you have a good time with your dad?”

“Dundell boag go fast!”

She clenched her teeth while the cameraman zoomed in on her son’s smiling, unbelievably photogenic face. She looked away to see Will and Tommy dishing up plates of fish and salad. Hudson was pouring water and lemonade. At the next table Avery, Deirdre, and Roberto were sketching something on a napkin. Nicole had something to take care of and had asked Kyra to save her a seat.

“And how about you, Kyra?” Troy prompted, his finger moving on the zoom out to a two-shot of her and Dustin, she assumed. “Did you have a good time, too?”

“Oh, I kind of laid low. You know, I had a room next door at the inn. Just in case Dustin needed me.”

“Yeah.” Troy’s jaw was tight. His movement on the lens was subtle. “It’s too bad you didn’t actually sleep there.”

She didn’t respond but she didn’t attempt to hide her anger, either. Her mother arrived at the table and Troy and Anthony took a couple of steps back to allow her to take her seat and presumably to include her in the shot.

“You can’t have it all only your way, Kyra.” Troy Matthews didn’t even try to keep his voice from being recorded. “You can’t expect me to cut you slack and then lie to me and keep me in the dark. We’re either finding a way to work this together or it’s every man for himself.”

She wanted to hurl insults at him, and a couple of swear words would have released a little steam. But that was Tonja Kay’s thing and Kyra knew exactly how that would look on camera. Troy had known where she was going and he’d followed her there. And she had no doubt he had the footage to prove it.

“I’ve gone out on a limb for you before,” the cameraman said. “Because of Dustin and because it felt like the right thing to do. But it’s been pretty one-sided. It turns out we weren’t really collaborating. You were taking advantage.”

“Troy, that’s enough.” As always her mother was like a lioness protecting a cub, even though Kyra was supposed to be a lioness herself. “I’m sure Kyra understands what you’re saying and will try to be more forthcoming in the future.”

“It’s about time she understands that you can’t choose to be involved with a major celebrity and not give up your privacy. In fact, I hope you understand that, too, Mrs. Singer.”

Kyra saw her mother flush but assumed it was on her behalf.

“Dustin didn’t choose that,” Kyra said tightly.

“No,” the cameraman agreed. “You chose it for him. And you shouldn’t let yourself forget it.”

Chapter Thirty-nine

“I can’t straighten my fingers. Or my back.” Nicole shook her hand to free the sandpaper-wrapped block of wood that had melded with her skin. She could hear the whir of the belt sander in the master bedroom; it and its operator had been sent by the flooring company to refinish the wide plank floors and restore their original beauty.

She and Maddie were sanding their way around the edges of the front upstairs bedrooms. Avery had taken the upstairs landing and hall. Deirdre had begun working her way down the stairs while they waited to get into the master suite together.

Ultimately they’d tackle the first floor. After which they’d face the garage and boathouse units. An eternity of hours and days spent moving one painful, dusty, sweaty inch at a time.

The windows had been flung open but the dust hung heavy in the hot, humid air, coating their hair and skin. The occasional breeze just made it worse.

“How much longer ’til we get to stop and go for a swim?” Nicole’s voice was muffled by the mask that covered her mouth but she was too tired to remove it.

“That depends on how fast we finish up here.” Avery dropped down on her rear end and leaned back against the wall just outside their doorway.

“I can barely lift my arm or unclench my fingers. Fast is not even an option.” Nicole groaned. “I’m never going to make it through ten days of this. How could I have forgotten how awful it is and how much I hate it?”

“It must release whatever that hormone is that makes mothers forget the pain attached to giving birth,” Avery said.

“I don’t think sanding and staining floors releases beta-endorphins,” Maddie said drily. “All I see being released is dust and grime.”

“The more I sweat the more the dust sticks. And the more I think about how long this is going to take, the more I want to throw myself out of one of these windows.” Nicole tried to smile, but she wasn’t positive she was joking.

When the sanding was finished they’d start staining and sealing, which was done with moplike applicators. This was equally onerous but at least they would be standing and the area covered could be counted off in feet rather than inches.

“Don’t think ahead. Just focus on the now.”

“That’s very Zen-like of you, Maddie. But I don’t want to be the block of wood or the sandpaper.” Nicole looked down at her filthy hands and jagged nails. “And I definitely don’t want to be the stain and polyurethane that are in our future.” She turned her face from the camera that was aimed at her. Troy and Anthony had been shooting them from every conceivable angle, none of them flattering. “I want to be the woman who is telepathically transported back to the Cheeca Lodge for her massage on the beach.”

“No one’s leaving until the floors are done—there is no escape—not even telepathically.” Avery stood in the doorway, one hand pressed to the small of her back. “We’ve got to finish as quickly as possible and get these floors covered so that the rest of the subs can get in. The plumber and tile guys will be next, then all the cabinetry has to be set and trimmed out, and we need to get the track laid for the glass accordion doors. There’s a ton left to do and it’s going to be tight.”

Maddie made it up off the floor but seemed unable to straighten. “I feel like the Hunchback of Notre-Dame.” She did a half-bent crab walk to reach the bottle of water she’d left behind her.

“No offense but you’re starting to look a little like him,” Avery said.

“None of us look exactly ready for our close-ups.” Deirdre blew a hank of hair out of her eye.

“And yet Troy keeps shooting them.” Nicole plucked at her T-shirt, which was sweat soaked and clinging to her body.

“I hope Kyra brings back something good for dinner.” Avery tucked her hair behind an ear. Kyra had been assigned to take over cooking until the floors were done since she couldn’t bring Dustin into all the flying dust or the chemicals that would follow. When Maddie or someone else could watch him, Kyra came in to get footage of the work in progress. At first Nicole hadn’t understood why Kyra would shoot her own version of events, but then she thought about how greatly her and her brother’s account of each other’s lives would differ. It probably couldn’t hurt to record your own reality in case it came up against someone else’s. “I’m kind of hoping for a liquid dinner. It’s way too hot for food.”

Nicole looked at Maddie. She hadn’t mentioned William Hightower by name since he’d evacuated to Hudson’s house. But when anyone else did, her chin went up even while she was pretending not to listen. And there had been the morning she’d been caught standing in the master bedroom doorway looking into the emptied space with her arms wrapped around herself and the oddest little smile on her lips.

* * *

The sun was already slipping in the sky by the time they hobbled out to the pool and eased themselves into the water. “Oh, my God. This is heaven.” Maddie closed her eyes briefly as the water closed around her body in a cushioned caress. “I dreamed this feeling all day, but I didn’t do it justice.”