“Yeah. She just gets under my skin.”
“I noticed.” Sarah locked the van. “Come on. Let’s walk.”
They headed toward the water. The sun was starting to drop behind the horizon. The light was breathtaking. Yachts andsightseeing boats were visible in the distance, a smell of fried food hung in the air.
Sarah pointed at a vendor selling chocolate-covered Key Lime Pie on a stick. “You want to try one?”
“Are they good?”
“At this shop? Overpriced and mediocre.” Sarah kept walking. “Follow me.”
Half a block down, she ducked into a small restaurant that looked like someone’s house converted into a business. The sign readMatilda’s Pies.
Inside, an older woman with gray hair looked up from behind the counter. “Sarah Barnes. Haven’t seen you in months.”
“I’ve been busy, Matilda.”
“Too busy for pie? That’s just sad.” Matilda grinned. “What can I get you?”
“Two on a stick. And can you dip it an extra time for me?”
“For you? Sure. Coming right up.”
“Oh, and one to go. A pie, I mean. Can you put it on ice? I might be a bit before I can get it in a fridge.”
“Of course, dear,” Matilda replied.
They waited while Matilda prepared the order. The restaurant was tiny. Photos covered the walls. Key West through the decades. Black and white images of fishermen and cigar factories and streets without tourists.
“How do you know her?” Lizzie asked.
“Billy and I came here years ago. When we were negotiating the deal on the Carlson.” Sarah leaned against the counter. “He spent all day in meetings with Stavros and the previous owners. I was bored so I walked around exploring. Found this place completely by accident.”
“And you’ve been coming back ever since?”
“When I remember to.” Sarah accepted the pies from Matilda and paid. “Come on. Let’s eat by the water.”
They walked back toward the pier, a plastic bag with the pie dangling from Sarah’s wrist. The cruise ships looked even bigger up close, towering over the smaller boats in the marina. Lizzie bit into her pie and nearly moaned. It was perfect. Tart and sweet and rich.
“This is incredible.”
“Told you.” Sarah ate hers with more care, trying not to get chocolate on her shirt. “The day after I found Matilda’s we visited Carlson Island for the first time.”
There were three islands visible off the island. One that apparently belonged to a rival chain, one owned by the government–curiously called Christmas Tree Island even though there was not a singular pine tree visible–and a third one, further out. Carlson Island.
“That’s where the party is, right?”
“Yup, next week we’re heading out there for the annual event. It’ll be like a festival type thing. It’s all planned out, you just need to help out setting everything up.”
“Chrisla said people sleep in tents?”
“That’s right. It’ll be a real adventure. We did it last year and it was great. Even the board agreed. We have been sending supplies over for a couple days now. I’m just a bit worried about the weather.”
“The weather?”
They’d had nothing but sunshine for the week she’d been here so far.
“Yeah, there’s a chance of some tropical activity in the next few days.” Sarah grimaced with concern.
