Page 36 of Ten Beach Road

“Good point,” her daughter said.

“I’m pretty sure your dad has some frequent flier miles left over that you could use. Text me and let me know when you’re coming and I’ll meet you at the Tampa airport.”

They passed the Don CeSar, which she’d already begun simply to think of as “the castle,” and continued past the warren of tiny streets until she could make the turn onto Gulf Way. The sea oats swayed atop their dunes and she knew the carpet of white sand was still warming under the afternoon sun.

“Do it, Kyra. We could use your help, and I think you’ll like it here.”

She shot a look at Nicole, who nodded in assent. Surely this was the last place anybody in the media would come looking for Kyra or anybody else.

That evening the breeze off the water was warm but soothing; the fronds of the palm trees stirred gently. Avery sat staring out over the pass. She had a big slash of dirt across one cheek and pieces of cobwebs stuck in her hair. Madeline thought they looked like a matched set.

Tonight’s hors d’oeuvres was Ted Peter’s smoked fish spread on crackers with hot sauce on the side. They weren’t exactly homemade, but everyone but Avery considered them a step up from Cheez Doodles. The drink of the evening was rum and Coke.

“I had one celebrity, who shall remain nameless,” Nicole said when pumped for stories about her high-profile clients, “who wouldn’t consider dating anyone who’d ever eaten a green M&M. And another who was such a militant vegan that he wouldn’t go out with anyone who’d eaten meat in the last year and a half.” She reached for her drink and took a small sip. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to verify those things?” Nicole asked. “Almost as difficult as who is and who isn’t a natural blonde.”

“Wow,” Avery said, a drink in her hand, her gaze out over the Gulf. “And that matters because . . .”

“That client wanted children with blonde hair and blue eyes. And he was afraid that if the woman he planned to marry wasn’t a real blonde, it might not happen.”

“Eeew,” Avery said. “It sounds awfully Aryan. Maybe you should have fixed him up with a test tube so that he could clone himself.” She set her drink down and reached for the hot sauce. “How did you come up with a definitive answer?”

Nicole smiled. “Well, it turned out the woman and I had the same hairdresser. And since only your hairdresser knows for sure . . .”

“Very sneaky,” Madeline said, “but effective. Hairdressers are the repositories of all kinds of personal information. Just like cleaning people. Did you deal with a lot of celebrities?” she asked as casually as she could.

“Yes,” Nicole said. “But the celebrities weren’t any flakier or more demanding than the really wealthy CEOs and trust funders. The more money, the more demands. That’s the way it generally works.”

Madeline settled as comfortably as she could in her beach chair; the neon-colored straps had started to mold to her bottom. “Did you ever run across Daniel Deranian?” she asked in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone.

“Now there’s a good-looking man,” Nicole said, relaxing back in her chair. “I ran into him a few times out in L.A. on the party circuit; he definitely didn’t need my matchmaking services.” She smiled ruefully. “But that wife of his, Tonja, now that woman is a piece of work.” Nicole shook her head. “And that is not a compliment.”

“In what way?” Madeline asked, hoping it was something as trivial as an M&M color bias.

“The woman is like a steamroller,” Nikki said. “If you get in her way, she’ll just knock you down and squash you flat.”

So much for the M&M’S.

They fell silent for a while, watching the sunset and sipping their drinks. Madeline spent the time trying to imagine Kyra in Daniel Deranian and Tonja Kay’s world and failing miserably. Nicole, yes; Kyra, no. Shifting again in search of a more comfortable position, Madeline turned to Avery. “We could use a little more furniture,” she said. “Could you ask Chase if his father has anything else stashed in storage?”

“Sorry,” Avery said. “But I amnotasking Chase Hardin for anything I don’t have to.” She turned to Nicole. “You’re the persuader. Will you give him a call?”

“Sure,” Nicole said, standing. “But right now I’m going to have a shower; the one I shouldn’t have gone out into the world without.”

“Poor Nicole,” Avery teased. “That cashier must have been legally blind. You don’t look a day over fifty-four.”

“Thanks so much.” Nicole’s tone was dry. “After my shower, I’m going in search of Wi-Fi. If I can’t pick it up in any of the hotel parking lots, I’m going to take my laptop to that cybercafe I saw.” She picked up the remains of her rum and Coke. “And just for that comment you are definitely not invited.”

Avery slapped at a mosquito. “I’ll consider myself rebuked.”

Madeline picked up what was left of the crackers and spread. Avery grabbed the bottle of hot sauce as they prepared to go inside.

“You know, if we’re going to be here until September, we might want to think about putting in cable so we can at least hook up a TV and access the Internet,” Madeline said. “I can see what kind of rate they’ve got if we bundle both services.”

“Good idea,” Avery said and once again Madeline felt herself flush with pleasure. Which made her realize just how long it had been since her family had complimented her or even noticed the things she did to make their lives run more smoothly.

“Before we go in, I want to share a good thing,” Madeline said, raising her glass to the others. “I spoke to my daughter earlier and I think she’s going to come down and help us out for a while.”

They clinked their glasses, or perhaps “click” was the better word for the sound of plastic on plastic.

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