he lake was small, secluded, and green. Pulled up on its stony shore was a wide shallow rowboat that looked like it had lost its paint before Kate had been born.

“This floats?”

“Oh, yeah.” Jake tossed the duffel in. “I wouldn’t jump up and down in it, but it floats.”

“There aren’t any seats,” Kate said.

“Somebody ripped them out once to use as oars.” Jake pushed the boat most of the way into the water. “Stack the cushions. If you’re still coming.”

Kate looked over her shoulder. Valerie was definitely out of sight, but she was also one of the most determined women Kate had ever met. Better to take no chances. She stepped carefully into the boat and dumped the duffel out There were half a dozen square blue plastic-covered boat cushions, and several faded-pink sofa pillows. She stacked three of the plastic cushions at each end and sat on one stack, her hands neatly folded in front of her. Jake climbed in opposite her and pushed off, rowing when the boat had floated a little way into the lake. It was the most energetic thing she’d seen him do, but even here he was lazy, rowing with long, slow strokes. She watched his hands on the oars and the flex of the muscles in his forearms, mesmerized by the slow movement of his body as he pulled the oars deeply through the water.

He rowed them into the shade of a willow on the far bank, tied the boat to an overhanging branch, and spread the plastic cushions he’d been sitting on behind him, topping them with the sofa pillows. Kate did the same with her cushions and leaned back to watch him.

Every move he made was slow, she realized, but exactly efficient. He picked up his rod, cast his line expertly into the water, and then jammed the pole between the gunwale of the boat and the oarlock. No wasted movement While she was still admiring his efficiency, he kicked off his shoes and took off his shirt.

His shoulders were broad, with the kind of muscle that came from everyday work. He leaned toward her and she tensed, remembering Lance, but all he did was hand her the second rod. “Beer’s in the cooler,” he said, and settled back into the cushions at his end of the boat, the pillows under his head, tipping his hat over his face until all she could see was the curve of his mouth under his mustache.

Kate looked at her rod.

“Jake,” she said softly. “There’s no bait on my hook.”

“If you bait your hook,” he said patiently from under his hat, “you will catch a fish.”

She waited for further explanation but he was finished. Evidently for Jake, fishing meant sleeping half naked under a willow tree. When she thought about it, it made sense. She didn’t like fish anyway.

She cast her line in and jammed her pole beside his and then made herself a nest in the cushions, stretching her legs out beside his, careful not to touch him. She leaned back and stared up through the willow, listening to the water lap the side of the boat and the wind gently stir the drooping silver leaves above her. The sound was narcotic, and after a while Kate began to relax for the first time in as long as she could remember. Maybe life doesn’t count out here, she thought lazily. Maybe time stops out here, and nothing matters. Maybe it’s magic. She smiled and watched the clouds, filtered through the curtain of willow leaves above her.

After a while she looked over at Jake. His chest was rising and falling in slow deep rhythms, and unconsciously she started to breathe with him, feeling the last of the tension drain from her body as the boat drifted gently in the water.

It was a shame he wasn’t her type. He wasn’t bad-looking, even with the broken nose, and he was certainly the most restful man she’d ever met. But he definitely did not fit her plan. He didn’t have a distinguished or aggressive bone in his body. In fact, looking at him now, she wasn’t sure he had bones in his body. He just sort of flowed everywhere. He’d get eaten alive in the city.

Still, it was nice to relax with a man for a change. Even if he was unconscious.

Her line jerked.

She sat up and grasped the pole, catching the reel as it played out. There was definitely something tugging on the other end.

“Jake,” she said softly. He didn’t move, and she could tell by his even breathing that he was still asleep. “Jake,” she said louder, but he slept on.

The fish jerked against her line. “Jake!” she yelled, smacking him on the leg with her foot.

The breathing stopped. “What?” he said, from under his hat.

“I’ve got a fish.”

“That’s nice.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Throw it back.”

“Jake.”

He yawned and sat up slowly, pushing his hat back on his head. “If I’d known you were going to be this energetic, I wouldn’t have brought you.”

“I didn’t do this on purpose.” She reeled her line in and a tiny sunfish broke the water.

“You got an aquarium?” Jake asked.

She brought the pole around to grab the fish, but it flipped and struggled and she couldn’t catch it After it had flipped past his face twice, Jake reached up and caught it, easing the hook out of its mouth and tossing it back in the water.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you have a knife?”

“Depends on what you want to use it for.”

“To cut this damn hook off before any more fish try to commit suicide on my line.”

He grinned at her and gave her his pocketknife. She cut the line above the hook and handed both the hook and the knife back to him. Then she dropped her line in the water and leaned back in the boat. “Thank you,” she said. “Sorry to have bothered you.”

“Not at all.” He started to lean back and stopped. “Do you have to be back by any certain time?”

“I’m playing golf at two with Peter somebody,” Kate said. “If I set foot on shore much before that, Valerie will make me play with the other kids. I am in no hurry, trust me.”

“Valerie is nobody to mess with,” Jake agreed. “So you’re playing vertical golf, are you?”

“What? On that hill? Absolutely not,” Kate said.

“We’re playing on the wimp course in back of the hotel.”

“Want to bet?” Jake said.

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“If this is the Peter I’m thinking about, he cheats,” Jake said. “And it’s a lot easier to cheat on the hard course.”

“He doesn’t cheat,” Kate said, looking at Jake with disgust. “Just look at him. He has ‘man of distinction’ written all over him, just like in one of those expensive liquor ads.”

“Those are usually the ones who cheat,” Jake said. “Don’t bet money with him. Or anything else you’d hate to lose.”

“Very funny,” Kate said. “I don’t believe it. Who says so?”

“The caddies.” Jake settled back down in his end of the boat.

“The caddies love him,” Kate said. “Penny said they actively beg to go around with him.”

“Sure, they do,” Jake said. “He tips them so they won’t rat on him. The per-capita income of caddies has gone up considerably since ol‘ Pete came to stay.”

“I still don’t believe it,” Kate said, and slipped back down on her spine in her end of the boat. “He’s just not the type.”

Jake laughed, and she closed her eyes and ignored him. She could feel him watching her, but the water lapping at the side of the boat was so soothing that she forgot him and drifted off.

Jake tipped back his hat and watched her sleep. She looked a lot more vulnerable in her sleep. Almost like a kid. But she still looked cool and untouchable with her hair all pulled back, dressed in those blah colors. There was no heat in her. Which, when he considered it, was a damn good thing because, her efficiency notwithstanding and much against his better judgment, he could easily have been attracted to her if he hadn’t been married to someone like her. He remembered Tiffany bitching at him for taking life too easy. It had taken him a long while to realize what the problem was, but he’d figured it out eventually—she’d assumed she’d married somebody like herself: career-driven, focused, successful. After a few months of married life she’d realized that life was pretty much a game to Jake, and she’d set out to change all that. Well, she had. They were divorced before the year was out.

The really sad thing was that neither one of them had lied to the other or pretended to be anything but what they were. They’d both just willfully misread each other because of the raging physical attraction they’d felt. Jake looked again at Kate curled peacefully at the other end of the boat and reminded himself, The physical stuff doesn’t last. Remember that, no matter what she does.

Of course, he admitted to himself, Kate wasn’t doing anything. He’d mentally kicked himself for inviting her into the boat, but she was turning out to be good company. Quiet except for the battle with the fish. A woman who could take teasing without getting huffy, and who didn’t come on to him, didn’t expect him to entertain her, who just lay back in the boat and went to sleep. A truly restful woman.

And she wasn’t boring. In fact, she made a damn good story. Last night at the luau, he’d found himself telling his parents and uncle about Frank and Lance, with Will putting in disclaimers. “You make her sound like the Terminator,” Will had said, laughing. “She is,” he’d said. But she didn’t look dangerous now. She looked sort of...sexless. Like a kid sister. He’d never had a sister. Maybe he’d borrow Kate as a sister for the time she’d be around. It would be nice to have a friendship with a woman, and Kate would be absolutely safe because she was interested only in Yuppies, and he wasn’t going to fall for her.

He looked over at Kate once more, shook his head, and then pulled his hat down and went to back to sleep.

When Kate woke up, it was late morning. She had rolled over on her side in her sleep, and their legs were tangled. She stretched and felt her legs slide along his. She thought idly about running her toe under the edge of his shorts and then blushed, deciding it was a very bad idea. She was sure she wasn’t interested in him, and if he made a pass, they’d drown.

She pulled her legs back and sat up, suddenly feeling ravenous. Valerie had attacked her before she could eat breakfast, and it was still at least an hour short of lunch. She searched through the cooler. All it held was beer. Well, beer was nutritious, wasn’t it? Hops and grain. She took one from the cooler and then leaned back to think about how pleasant life was on the lake, even with Jake there.

Well, actually, she admitted as she sipped the beer, Jake was probably one of the reasons it was pleasant. It was nice to have undemanding companionship, for a change. She watched him doze at the other end of the boat. He was like having a brother around. Like the brother she’d never had. Comfortable, fun to talk to, trustworthy. Well, more than that, maybe. She could get those qualities from an attentive dachshund. Of course, she’d never had a dachshund. What a shame.

She contemplated the idea of getting a dog over her second beer. It was probably a bad idea, since she lived in the city. Even if it was a little dog. It would be lonely in her apartment all day. She certainly was lonely in her apartment all night. Stop it, Kate, she told herself. Self-pity is a sign of weakness.

Kate leaned to put her empty can back in the pack and was getting her third when she realized that Jake wasn’t sleeping anymore. She reached over and tilted his hat up, and he gazed sleepily back at her.

“Hello,” she said. “Want a beer?”

“That would be nice.”

She dropped the hat back over his eyes and cracked him a beer. He held out his hand, and she wrapped his fingers around it. He guided it back under his hat, and she cracked another can for herself and leaned back on the cushions. The sky was a brighter blue than before, and the sun had moved so that her end of the boat was partially in the sun. The heat warmed her white blouse uncomfortably. She drank her beer and envied Jake, cool without his shirt. One more unfair thing about civilization.

The third beer went down faster than the second because of the heat. Kate’s head began to swim a little, probably because the sun was hot. She sat up and opened a fourth.

When he heard the crack of the pop-top, Jake lifted his hat for a moment and glanced at her, shrugged and lay back again.

Kate rolled the cold can against her throat and down the front of her blouse and thought about how unfair life was. It was really hot in the sun, but could she go topless? Noooo. And why? Because she was female. Life was sexist. And really, really unfair. She looked over at Jake, cool and comfortable and shirtless, and decided to strike a blow for women everywhere. This is for all the hot women, she thought, and took off her blouse. She was wearing a peach satin and white lace bra, the most conservative underwear Jessie had allowed her to buy. It covered, she reasoned, a lot more of her than a bikini top. She felt much better. She tossed her blouse into the center of the boat and leaned back to finish her beer.

Jake tilted his hat up when he felt her blouse hit his legs.

“Cooler?”

“Much.”

“Try not to take anything else off. You’ll scare the fish.”

She waved her beer can at him and nodded, dabbling her hand in the water. “Here, fish.”

“Kate, did you have any breakfast this morning?”

“Nope.” She took another healthy swig of the beer.

He leaned forward and picked up the cooler, moving it out of her reach.

“Give me your beer,” he said, and she moved to hand it to him, feeling her breasts tighten against the lace as she leaned forward. They felt wonderful.

Jake looked down as he took the can from her.

“Nice bra.”

“Thank you. It’s new.”

He laughed. “Go back to sleep, kid. We’ll go in when you wake up.”

So much for sexless. Jake shook his head as he watched her. There was a lot of woman under that blouse. And there must have been something about Kate he’d missed, because he hadn’t pegged her as a satin-and-lace type. Plain white cotton would have been his guess, although he hadn’t guessed; Kate’s underwear had never occurred to him because he’d never thought of Kate undressed.

She’s repressed, he thought. She wears all that tailored tan clothing and then wears sexy underwear underneath it. But maybe repressed wasn’t the right word. Maybe she was schizophrenic. It would explain why guys like Lance were splatting up against her like bugs on a windshield. The signals were there, and then she shot them down. Jake shook his head again, bewildered by her and at the same time smug that he, at least, was impervious to her charms. Still, he carefully avoided looking at her as she lay curled up, asleep, at the other end of the boat.

No point in pushing his luck.

An hour later, Kate woke up when Jake shook her foot to bring her out of her doze. She sat up and stretched clumsily, and he tossed her blouse to her. She put it on, missing the armhole the first time.

“Time to go home,” he said.

“We should have brought lunch,” Kate said.

“How do you feel?”

Kate considered it. Light-headed. Relaxed. Slightly turned-on. “I’m drunk.”

“I’d guessed that. Button your blouse.” He untied the boat and began to row back to shore. Kate concentrated on her blouse, watching her fingers push the buttons through the holes. I wonder who thought of buttonholes, she thought. And I wonder what she was doing when she thought of them. Visions of trains plunging into tunnels flashed through her head. She was still occupied with making the connection when Jake beached the boat, hauling it up onto the stones while she still sat in it. She climbed out, clumsily pulling the poles and the cooler bag with her.

“Wait a minute,” he said and pulled her around to face him. “Who taught you to dress yourself?”

She had missed a couple of buttons. Big deal. She stood close to him while he straightened her shirt, popping the buttons out through the wrong holes and sliding them back through the right ones. Once his fingers touched her skin, and she instinctively leaned into him just a little, pressing slightly against his hands. He stopped for a minute and said, “Steady, kid,” and then finished buttoning her blouse before he turned her around and sent her up the path with a little shove.

“Don’t go too fast,” he said. “I’m right behind you.” He picked up the gear and took her up a different, much shorter path—one that brought them out above the cabins instead of past the hotel. Then he dropped the gear on her porch and asked her for her key.

“It’s in my bra,” she said and fished for it. It had slipped under her breast, but she found it and gave it to him, warm from her flesh.

“I’m surprised there was room for it in there,” he said and unlocked her door.

She walked to her bed, wheeled around, waved to him to thank him, and fell backward onto the mattress. He picked up her feet and threw them up on the bed and then put his hands under her arms to haul her up onto the pillows.

He looked so cute bending over her with that mustache. She threw her arms around him and drew his face close to hers.

“You’re the brother I never had,” Kate said thickly.

“I can’t tell you how good that makes me feel,” Jake said, and then she passed out in his arms.

* * *

Jake went back to the hotel, shaking his head. The woman needed a keeper—any keeper but him. The memory of her—soft and round, with her arms around him— was disturbing. Remember, he told himself, her body might be warm, but she has ice cubes in her eyes and a business plan for a heart.

A vision of Kate smiling at him in the boat rose before him. Well, maybe she was more than that. She was friendly. And she was good company. And she didn’t seem to have any ulterior motives. In fact, she thought of him as a brother. It made him feel both relieved and insulted because after all she was a damn attractive woman. And not nearly as icy as he’d thought. Her blue eyes had been melting when she’d smiled at him right before she’d passed out, cold as a haddock.

It didn’t matter. He was going to stay away from her, that was the safest strategy, he resolved. She would be fine. She was playing golf this afternoon. How much trouble could she get into?

Then he remembered who she was playing golf with and sighed. She really did need a keeper.

An hour later, Kate woke up, still high from the beer, and went in search of food to counteract the alcohol. The big glassed-in dining room was crowded when she found it, so she was surprised to find Penny alone at a table for two.

“Oh, goody. Sit down, Kate. Please, sit down.” There was something gratifying about being that welcome, and Kate smiled as she joined her. Although not overly bright, Penny was truly a warm, open person and Kate wondered how she managed. With all the experience she must have had with men, how did she stay that trusting?

“No Chad?”

Penny shook her head. “He was Saturday. Today is Sunday.”

“Like days-of-the-week underpants.”

“Yeah.” Penny giggled.

“Are you sure you want to get married?”

“Yes.”

Kate waited for more explanation, but Penny just smiled at her—a smile as open and warm as the sun. The waiter brought Penny’s salad.

“You want a salad, too, don’t you Kate? Greg, could you be a honey and just hurry another salad over here for Kate?”

“You bet, Penny.” The waiter beamed at her and shot back to the kitchen.

“It seems a shame to take you off the market,” Kate said. “You bring such happiness to so many this way.”

“I want a baby.” Penny smiled at the thought.

“Oh. How about a husband? Want one of those, too?”

“Oh, sure.” Penny seemed a lot less enthusiastic about the husband than the baby.

“Penny, I don’t mean to pry, but do you love this man you’re marrying?”

“Allan? Oh, sure.”

“Does he, um, know you’re here?”

“Oh, sure. He knows I like to dance and stuff, but he’s very busy with his business. He knows I don’t cheat or anything. Just dance and talk...you know. He likes me to have a good time.”

“Oh.”

Greg was back with Kate’s salad. He never took his eyes off Penny while he served it to her, and Kate had to guide his hand at the last moment to keep the plate from sliding into her lap.

“Thanks.”

“Yes, ma’am. Anything else?”

“Lunch,” Kate suggested.

“Right. Right.” Greg peeled his eyes from Penny. “What would you like?”

“A menu.”

“Right. Right.” Greg stole one from another table and gave it to her, his eyes zapping back to Penny like iron filings to a magnet.

“Turkey club sandwich,” Kate said.

Greg smiled at Penny.

“Turkey club sandwich,” Kate repeated.

Greg smiled at Penny.

“I think I’ll have the turkey club sandwich,” Kate said loudly.

“Right. Right.” Greg backed toward the kitchen.

“Allan trusts me. He does get jealous sometimes, though,” Penny admitted.

“I can’t think why.”

“The only thing I don’t like about men is that they think they own you sometimes.”

“That’s the only thing you don’t like?”

“What else is there?”

“I’ll make you a list.”

“No, really, men are fun.” Penny played with her salad. “Men take care of you. It’s nice.”

“Does Allan take care of you?”

“Oh, yes.” Penny sighed.

Kate watched her for a moment. “Penny, what’s wrong with Allan?”

Penny hesitated and then put down her fork and leaned forward. “He’s boring. Sometimes he’ll be talking to me, and I’ll just drift off and start thinking about clothes or babies or a movie I’ve seen. And then I’ll remember he’s talking, and I try to listen again.” Penny came as close as she could to looking depressed. For Penny, this meant slightly less radiant. “It doesn’t really matter because he never notices, but...”

Kate winced, thinking of all the long silences in her own engagements. “I was engaged to men like that. Three of them. So caught up in their own careers and their own ideas that they never even saw me. Don’t marry him.”

“I have to marry somebody if I want kids. And I’ve known Allan since he moved next door when I was in the sixth grade and he was a senior.” Penny sighed at the memory. “He’s smart. He’s successful. He has a lot of money, and he’ll take care of me and our children. No man is perfect, but Allan comes pretty close.” She picked up her fork again. “I’m not stupid. I know I’m not in love with him and that we won’t have one of those happily-ever-after marriages. But I’m not like you. I don’t want a career. I want to get married and have a lot of kids and stay home with them all the time.” She took a bite of salad and chewed while she thought about what she wanted to say next “See, what I really want is to be a full-time mom. But if I marry somebody with not much money, I can’t I’ll have to work. I mean, most husbands can’t afford to have their wives not work. And Allan can. In fact, he wants me to stay home.”

“Oh,” Kate said. “Well...”

“I know. You think that’s awful,” Penny said.

“No,” Kate lied. “Not if it’s what you really want.”

“I do.” Penny bit her lip. “I have this all planned out and it will work. And I’ll be fair to Allan. I do sort of love him and I’ll take care of him, too, and I’ll be a good wife. I just deserve these next two weeks. That’s all.” She looked at Kate. “I suppose you think that’s stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Kate said, surprised to find she didn’t. “I’m just not as honest as you are. But if you can be, I can be. I want that kind of marriage, too. The planned-out, practical kind. The only difference between the two of us is that I haven’t found my Allan yet.”

“So that’s why you’re here,” Penny said. She looked around and leaned forward. “Well, this place is crawling with secure guys. You shouldn’t have any problem finding one.”

“So far, crawling is the right word for the men I’ve met,” Kate said. “But I’m not giving up. I’m going to find a dependable, successful man if it kills me.”

“I wish that didn’t sound so boring,” Penny said. “Why is security always boring?”

“Because if it were exciting, it wouldn’t be safe,” Kate said.

“So you’re looking for a rich guy?”

“Well,” Kate said, frowning. “Not rich. I don’t care about money. I have money. But he has to be successful.”

“Rich,” Penny said, and ate some more salad.

“I guess so,” Kate said. “You know, I really hate this. It seems so scheming. It is so scheming.”

“I know,” Penny said. “But you’re not getting any younger. You’re really good-looking for your age, but still, you’d better get somebody while you can.”

“Thank you,” Kate said.

Greg brought her lunch. Chicken salad.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked, looking at Penny.

“No, thank you.” Kate waited until he was gone and turned back to Penny. “From now on, don’t come to the table until I’ve ordered, all right?”

Penny giggled.

“Is everything all right here?”

Kate looked up to find Valerie lurking near their table, looking cool, trim and professional in green linen.

“Fine,” Kate said. “Everything’s lovely.”

“Good,” Valerie said. “That’s exactly how Will and I want you to feel.”

“Will?”

“Will Templeton. My boss.” Valerie smiled smugly. “And my fiancé.”

“Congratulations,” Kate said.

“Oh, sit down and tell us all about it,” Penny said. “Will is really dishy. I didn’t know you were engaged to him.”

“Nobody knows,” Valerie said, sliding into an empty chair. “Sometimes I don’t think Will knows.” She laughed shortly.

“Men,” Penny said sympathetically. “They just don’t know how to have a relationship.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Valerie said. “We’re actually quite well matched. In three years, we haven’t had one argument.”

“Gee,” Penny said. “Three years.”

Valerie smiled at her smugly. “Will understands that I generally know what’s best.”

“I can’t imagine being engaged for three years,” Penny went on. “Why are you waiting so long to get married?”

Valerie glared at her.

“I was engaged for three years,” Kate said. “Of course, I was engaged to three different men during that time. But that’s a long time.”

“A really long time,” Penny said.

“Will and I have worked very hard to make this place a success,” Valerie snapped. “We haven’t had time to consider anything else.”

“Working together,” Kate said, conjuring up her own plan and seeing it made flesh in Will and Valerie. “That’s wonderful. That’s the kind of marriage I want— partners, working together to make a business grow.” She looked over at Valerie. “That must be wonderful.”

Valerie relaxed under Kate’s blatant envy. “Well, it is, of course, but mere are drawbacks. I mean, I am stuck here, after all, with nobody to talk to except the help, and they’re hardly...well, you know.”

Kate and Penny looked at each other and men at Valerie. “What?” Kate asked.

“Well, they’re country people.” Valerie wrinkled her nose. “They don’t understand career women. Like us.”

“Like us,” Kate echoed, feeling vaguely insulted.

“Us?” Penny echoed too.

Valerie ignored her and stayed focused on Kate.

“I wanted to talk to you because I knew you’d understand.”

“Understand?” How much did I have to drink this morning? Kate wondered. How long is it going to take me to sober up? Why can’t I comprehend what this woman is driving at?

“I recognized you yesterday at the luau. I thought you looked familiar when you checked in. Then it hit me. Your picture was in Business Week last month. I pulled out my back copy and there you were.” Valerie raised her eyebrows. “I’m very impressed.”

“Don’t be,” Kate said. “I was in Business Week because I was standing next to my father when they took the picture.”

“The caption said you were his successor. It must be wonderful, working with a powerful man like that.”

“Oh, yes,” Kate said. “Particularly when magazines start mentioning you as his successor. He loves that.”

“I envy you. Living in the city. On the cutting edge. Sometimes I feel like I’m going to lose my mind, being stuck down here,” Valerie said.

“Why do you stay?” Kate said.

Valerie shrugged. “This is where Will wants to be. And we’re making this resort really take off. It’s something we’re doing together.”

“Together,” Kate said.

“Oh, yes,” Valerie said. “And we’ve got so many ideas. Don’t tell anyone,” she added, dropping her voice, “but our next project is a real country bar. With jukeboxes and everything.”

“Well, that sounds like fun,” Kate said, trying to figure out why a country bar should be top secret.

“Isn’t there a country bar in town?” Penny said.

“That’s Nancy’s,” Valerie said. “She doesn’t count. She doesn’t have any idea how to run a business. She just opens the door and people come in and buy beer.”

“Isn’t that pretty much the idea behind running a bar?” Kate asked.

“Listen, that place could be a gold mine if she’d get her act together. Since she isn’t,” Valerie said, sitting back and smiling, “Will and I are going to open our own gold mine.”

“What’ll happen to Nancy?” Penny asked.

Valerie shrugged. “That’s business.”

“My father would like you,” Kate said, drawing away from Valerie.

“Thank you,” Valerie said.

“So when are you and Will getting married?” Penny asked.

“Soon,” Valerie said. “I’m being recruited by a big East Coast chain. When they make me an offer, I’ll just tell Will. He’s a very fair man. He couldn’t possibly expect me to stay here indefinitely without some kind of commitment. And he can hardly run this place without me.”

Kate and Penny looked at each other again.

“Are you actually a partner here?” Kate asked, confused. “I’m not following you.”

Valerie frowned, annoyed at being pinned down. “Will started this place over ten years ago. Five years ago, he expanded it with a silent partner who does absolutely nothing to help him run it I came here three years ago when Will was about at his wits’ end and saved him and the hotel by planning something besides golf for the guests. Remember the luau last night?”

Kate winced, remembering the luau, and nodded.

“Well, that was my idea. I have a lot of ideas like that. They bring a lot of people to this resort I’m indispensable.”

“Lucky you,” Kate said uneasily. She felt a sudden need to get far away from Valerie, as if she had something contagious that she might catch. Like maybe rum-less ambition and a total lack of humanity. She smiled brightly at Valerie and pushed back her chair. “Well, I’ve got to run. I’m late to play golf.”

“Who are you playing with?” Penny asked.

“Peter somebody.”

“Oh, he looks rich,” Penny said. “Good luck.”

“Good luck?” Valerie raised her eyebrows at Kate.

“On my golf game,” Kate said. “I’m going to need all the luck I can get.”

“Well, then, I’ll wish you good luck, too,” Valerie said. “Let’s get together again later and talk. We’ve got so much in common.”

“That would be wonderful,” Kate said, trying not to look appalled. “Really.”

“Really,” Valerie said. “I consider you as a role model.”

“Wonderful,” Kate said as she backed away. “I can’t tell you how that makes me feel.”