Maddie felt her lips tip up in a smile. “Andrew was a Boy Scout and I’m pretty sure neither of those were in the handbook.”

Kyra snorted. “Somebody needs to tell those Scouts to stick to pitching tents and lighting campfires and . . . walking old ladies across the street.”

“And while they’re at it maybe someone could come up with a badge for teaching certain men how to keep their pants zipped.” It was Maddie’s turn to snort.

Laughter didn’t contribute a whole lot to a paint job, but it did lighten the hurt and embarrassment just a little. As Maddie settled into her brushstrokes she reminded herself that sleeping with William Hightower was just a surprising blip on her radar screen. In a matter of weeks they’d be leaving Mermaid Point and moving on with their lives. In a couple of months William Hightower would be no more than a fond and miraculous memory. And he would have already forgotten her name.

Chapter Forty-three

As far as Nicole was concerned the only thing worse than painting the exterior of a building was painting it at the end of August. In the Keys. Only twenty-four degrees from the equator.

She sat on a section of scaffolding on the southern wall of William Hightower’s master suite just beneath the roofline. A folded towel was beneath her to eliminate direct contact with the hot metal. A paint tray sat between her and Maddie. Avery was one section over. All of them wore paint-spattered hats and protective clothing. Each of them was caked with dirt and grime and sweating profusely. Nicole stopped cutting in around the window to swipe her eyes with the back of one sleeve. The only thing she didn’t hate at the moment was the view.

It was a gorgeous summer day with a bright blue sky and pulled white clouds. Sunlight glittered on the turquoise water. Boats cut across it, leaving white-plumed wakes behind them. The tide was so low that she could see the one-time causeway that stretched out to U.S. 1. For the first time she noticed what looked like an old guard gate at the end of it.

“When we leave here I’m going to do my best to erase these last five days from my mind.” Nicole continued to survey the island. Near the docks and retaining wall, barges of furniture, accessories, and everything else Deirdre had bought, begged, or possibly stolen had arrived and were being off-loaded. On the western edge of the island she spied the flash of machetes through overgrown bush, the hauling away of dead limbs as the Marathon Garden Club worked to tame but not quash Mermaid Point’s tropical splendor.

“I can’t look at a group of gardeners without thinking about Parker Amherst.” Nicole dragged her eyes if not her thoughts back to the wall she was painting.

“You don’t have anyone pissed off at you, do you, Nikki?” Avery asked.

“Not that I’m aware of. Well, except for Joe’s grandmother, but she already had a clean shot at me over the Fourth. I’m pretty sure she’s already cast any pertinent spells or curses.”

“It’s good to know that if toads start flying out of your mouth we’ll know who to turn to for the antidote,” Maddie teased.

“Honestly, if it would get me off this scaffolding and out of the sun, I’d give her another shot.” Nicole pulled her hat tighter onto her head.

Tomorrow would be their last day of painting. After that they would report to Deirdre for furniture moving, accessory placing, and artwork hanging, but at least most of it would take place inside. In the brand-new commercial-grade air-conditioning.

A glob of sweat formed on her nose and she dipped her face down to her shoulder to try to get rid of it. “I am so ready to get back to civilization.”

“Is Joe coming for the party?” Maddie asked.

“I don’t think so. He’s out on the West Coast and may not be able to make it back.” She turned to Avery. “How about Chase?”

Avery shook her head. “He’s got his hands so ridiculously full. I’ve been sending pictures and keeping him posted, but I’m sorry he won’t get to see the finished project in person.”

“Well, there won’t be any shortage of video.” Nicole looked down. Even now, Troy and Anthony were shooting up at them—which was the least flattering angle possible. “But we’ve got less than a week until we wrap, so I’m thinking we can stop worrying about facing another hurricane or crazy person with a grudge. And I definitely don’t see us ending the shoot with another funeral.”

* * *

Four days later Maddie dropped into the tobacco-colored leather chair, part of the new grouping that surrounded the fireplace, and stared up at the stone, shell, and barnacle feature wall that rose above it. The soft pecky cypress walls, dark red cabinetry, and wrought-iron-forged hardware brought substance and order to the open design. “I almost can’t believe we’re done!”

Across the room, the kitchen was a perfect combination of sophisticated design and indestructible functionality while the eastern end of the room now easily accommodated William Hightower’s prized pool table and a large farm table big enough to seat twelve. All this in addition to the natural light and ocean view provided by the accordion glass wall. “It all turned out so great, I don’t even know which suite I’d choose if I were a guest.”

“Well, I’d go with the first-floor garage suite. That bathroom is to die for.” Nicole sighed theatrically. “All that leafy green on the wood walls and ceiling, the antique glass-topped doors, and that fabulous soaking tub?” She shook her head. “That bathroom belongs in a Calgon commercial.”

“Well, I like the boathouse suites. Hanging right out over the water like that and having a choice of sunrise or sunset views?” Kyra smiled and ruffled Dustin’s hair. “It’s fabulous. And I don’t know how you managed to create such different moods in each structure and yet make them feel part of the whole.”

“I agree,” Nicole said. “The two of you together?” She motioned to Avery and Deirdre. “That’s what I call sheer genius.”

“Agreed!” Maddie raised a glass of fresh lemonade in toast. “Here’s to Avery and Deirdre. Do Over’s dynamic duo.” They clinked their glasses and drank.

Deirdre smiled and bowed along with Avery, but her smile seemed forced.

“Another headache?” Avery asked her.

“Nothing major.” Deirdre pulled an aspirin bottle from her pocket, shook two into her palm, and downed them with a long pull from her water bottle.

“So what do you think?” Nicole asked. “Are we ready?”

“Yep.” Avery checked things off on her fingers. “Beds are made, towels are in the bathrooms, bottled waters and fruit baskets are set up in all the suites.”

“The caterers the network hired are coming in around two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. Last I heard the network folks were due by four. Party guests were invited for seven. Has anybody talked to Lisa Hogan recently?” Maddie looked at Avery.

“Nope. I’m the one ducking her calls for a change. I don’t want any last-minute surprises and I guess I’m hoping our work will speak for itself.”

“You know she wants video of people checking in.” Kyra pulled Dustin up onto her lap. “But I don’t think anyone alive is going to get William Hightower to check strangers into his home tomorrow and escort them to their rooms.”

“Don’t look at me,” Maddie said when Nicole and Deirdre did just that. “I hereby relinquish the position of Hightower Handler and William Whisperer. He’s barely been on the island all week and when he is he’s not doing anything that could be considered actual communication.” Especially not with her.

“I expect he’s counting the days until we’re gone,” Nicole observed. “But does anyone know what he’s going to do with the place?”

Maddie stayed silent. If there was anyone William Hightower was not confiding in it was her.

“Beats me. And I still don’t think that’s our problem.” Avery set her empty glass on the coffee table. “I figured we’d put Lisa Hogan and her staff in the garage suites. And we can put Hud and Tommy upstairs here closest to Will and maybe Sam Holland and his wife in one of the downstairs suites. I think he and Will ran across each other while Will was living in Key West. If that fishing buddy of Will’s comes, he can take the fourth suite here in the main house.”

“That should work.” Kyra laid her chin on Dustin’s head. “We’ve got plenty of video of all the interiors. There’s no real reason to shoot people walking into each one of them.”

They left William’s house and headed off to take care of the few tasks that remained. As Maddie crossed the island that they’d soon be leaving, she chided herself for wishing that things had ended differently, or at least on better terms, with William Hightower. Now was not the time to be looking backward. Not when so many important decisions—from what she would do next to where she would live while she did it—still lay ahead.

* * *

The morning of the wrap and sponsor party William and Tommy Hightower were out on the water before dawn. It was a gorgeous morning to be alive and an even better one to have a fishing rod in your hand. The skiff’s pole was in anchor position at one of Will’s favorite flats near Shell Key. So far neither of them had caught anything large enough to keep, but it was deeply satisfying to be there on the water with his son.

All he had to do now was get through the last invasion, smile at the party tonight, and wave good-bye to the lot of them when they left.

“You know we’re going to have to find someone to help run the place, help you deal with guests, serve the breakfast.” Tommy cast, sending the fly in a perfect arc. “We can probably contract out for maid service. I found a company that can handle bookings and that end of things.”

“There’s no need for any of that.” Will watched him strip the line back then present it again.

“So you’re going to take care of reservations and guests yourself?”

“No. No one is.” Will rummaged through his tackle box but his mind wasn’t on the selection of flies he’d brought with him.

“Because?” Tommy jerked his line slightly in an attempt to entice a fish.

“Because Mermaid Point is not going to become a bed-and-breakfast.”

Tommy looked up at him in surprise. “But the network just spent a ton of money and over three months turning it into exactly that.”

“The network bought the right to expose me and my island and my life, warts and all, on national television. I didn’t sign anything that requires me to do more than show people checking in when it’s operational, did I?” He watched his son, who had stopped pretending to care about the fish that were ignoring his line.

“But their attorneys are working to get you an exemption. They seem sure that—”

“Those attorneys don’t have a clue how a small town like this operates. I’ve owned Mermaid Point for over thirty years. I’ve lived full-time on it for the last fifteen. I would have never agreed to this renovation if I thought anyone could actually force me to run a bed-and-breakfast on it. Hell, the mayor and the building supervisor are all going to be there tonight and I guarantee you they’re not going to give me a special waiver on television to operate something they have an ordinance against and have been in court over for a decade.” Will picked up a worm fly, put it back, and checked the next compartment. “I don’t think the network is going to waste a whole lot more time and money on those attorney fees once they’ve got the footage in the can. What would be the point?”

“Well, that’s all great. But how are you planning to satisfy the bank?” Tommy retrieved his line and took a cold drink from the cooler. “You are upside down. And I’m not sure anyone’s going to buy this property if they can’t use it for what it’s been designed for.”

“I’ve got something in mind.” Will cast his line near a mangrove branch where he could see movement in the water. “Why don’t you let me worry about that?”

“You? Seriously?” Tommy looked at him dubiously.

“I’m not stupid, son.”

Both of them went kind of still at his rare use of the word “son.”

“I didn’t have the education you did and I spent a lot of years too numb to use my brain, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have one. Speaking of which, I don’t think I ever thanked you for forcing me into rehab. If I hadn’t been so pissed off at you and so determined to show you I wasn’t the loser you thought I was, I’m not sure I would have made it through any better than I did all the other times.”

The astonishment on his son’s face would have been comical if it hadn’t been such a testament to Will’s lack of fathering and communication skills. Tommy’s eyes actually teared up.