“That’s different.”
“Of course.”
Sette sat up in her lounge chair and adjusted her sunglasses. The sun had disappeared behind some cumulus clouds, so she might as well see for a change. “You invite whomever you want. Who knows. Maybe I’ll get my own boat one day, and you will never be invited.”
“First of all, the idea of you buying a boat is so hilarious I can’t even laugh. Second, you not inviting me onto your imaginaryship means we’re not friends anymore. Don’t be a bitch, Sette.” She guffawed. “I’m going to put that reminder on your phone for you. Every time you act like a prick, I’ll call you up and have‘DON’T BE A BITCH, SETTE,’scream on your phone.”
“So mature.”
“You once decided to look up pussy for a living. Who’s the mature one now?”
Sette leaned over and glared at her friend – and saw someone waltzing up the dock with eyes on the neighboring yacht.
Her stomach tightened before her brain caught up.Oh. Not a newcomer after all.
“Hey! Señorita Chica Rica!” Zara held up an arm to wave her down. “Haven’t seen you around for a while. Not since you made that lady your mistress, anyway.”
A hearty laugh floated up to the deck. “You’re killing me.”
Sette hadn’t heard that laugh since the day she had declined an invitation she had pretended not to want. Nothing serious. Now, her stomach dropped.
“Come on up and have a drink with us!” Zara shouted. “I want you to meet my friend.”
Within another minute, they were joined by Miquela from the neighboring yacht. Or rather, rejoined. Sette had seen her before, of course – in that coffee shop, pretending to understand English so she could score a date.I would remember a woman like this. And I do.
Refined. Beautiful. Effortlessly charming and confident. An infuriating meeting of old-money European self-involvement and that kind ofje ne sais quoithat said Sette couldn’t help but like her.
I haven’t thought about her in a hot minute.But since June’s strange phone call…
“This is my friend, Sette Christie,” Zara said, as if Sette and Miquela hadn’t already exchanged lingering eye contact two weeks ago. “She’s a doctor.”
“Oh?” the other woman said with that strange accent Sette still couldn’t place. Not quite Spanish, not quite French, and vague traces ofBritin there. “We’ve almost met properly before, haven’t we?” Her smile tilted, quite knowingly. “I need to find a doctor around here.”
Sette needed to come off it already.This woman hasn’t done anything. I’m annoyed at Zara. When the hell wasn’t she annoyed at the stupid buffoon?
“Unless you’re pregnant or think you might have cervical cancer, I’m not sure how much help I could be.” Sette extended her hand from where she sat, careful to move her fruity drink. “Nice seeing you again.”
The woman took her hand. Strong grip. Not a single callous. “Miquela Bolivar, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m still new in town.”
New in town.Not new to me.
“She may be new in town, but she’s already old in my heart,” Zara declared. “She bought the St. Jude. One of these days, I’ll convince her to play chicken with me out in the bay.”
Miquela neither frowned nor showed overt amusement.She must like Zara enough to keep coming up on her deck.Zara was a great charmer, but there were a few who easily became exasperated with her. Some days that could be Sette.Yet I keep coming back for more.
“So,” Sette said, steadying her tone, “what do you do, again? Real estate?”
“Casinos and resorts. We’re in talks to build a casino not too far from here.” Miquela’s eyes flicked to Sette’s briefly. “It’s why I’ve been trying to get to know the neighborhood.”
In what way, exactly?
“I can’t wait to have a new place to gamble all my money away,” Zara said. “You can count on me to keep the coffers full. Drink?”
Miquela accepted a beer. “I just got back from Monaco. Well, Monaco and Spain. Had to see some family on my way back. Mostly Monaco.”
“Wow.” Sette finished her drink and motioned for Zara to bring her a beer, too. “You’re already one of the fanciest of the fancy here, then.”
“They are beautiful countries,” Miquela said, popping open her bottle. “But there is a lot I like about here, too.” Her gaze held Sette’s just a second too long. “Like the women. Top class.”
