Cara sighed. "It's not the middle of anything anymore. The gift of the property has been called into question, and it doesn't look like we'll be getting it back any time soon."
"That rat," Daphne growled. "That lying asshole. I'm so sorry, sweetie."
"What rat? Who's an asshole?"
"Your … the … that usurper. The tall one with the muscles." Daphne's mouth twisted like she couldn't bring herself to say Mick's name.
Cara didn't have that same problem. She laughed gently. "You mean Mick? He didn't do this."
"What do you mean? I just left him at the internet cafe. He practically admitted he was involved with something."
She shook her head. "Me, you ninny. He's involved with me. And he's just as affected by this new development as I am, unfortunately. No, the rats in this situation would be the members of my board."
Last night, Cara had been upset. This morning? She was pissed. Yesterday's board meeting had gone so badly because in small part she'd overreacted to their criticism, but mostly because everyone was blaming her for something that was entirely outside her control.
They'd all acted on good faith when they'd received the letter months earlier from Mrs. Parry's attorneys. They'd even filed the ownership with the land registry office. Technically, Villa Sucre now belonged to the Historical Society, and it didn't matter what a court in New York City said.
Except for the legal battle the Society couldn't afford if a plane full of lawyers showed up here.
"You have the sourest look on your face right now," Daphne said as she came closer and tried to look at Cara's clipboard.
Cara snatched it against her chest just to be mean. "Stop being nosy."
"You're keeping secrets. I don't like it."
"You just don't like being in the dark," Cara laughed.
"Exactly. Spill, spill, spill."
So Cara spilled. She told Daphne about the board meeting, about the two wills, about her and Mick. She talked and talked until Daphne knew everything and as she unloaded all the drama of the week, her anger, which had been simmering, turned into a full-fledged rage.
"This is fucking bullshit, isn't it?"
Daphne nodded. "One hundred percent."
"But we don't have that lawyer that we need on the board. And what can I do? Tell them they're all full of hot air and nonsense?"
Another nod.
"No." Cara frowned. "I can't do that. Why are you still nodding?"
"Because that's-"
Cara gasped. "That's exactly what I should do."
"-Exactly what you should do. Yes." Daphne gave her an amused look. "I'm glad I could help."
"Shush, I'm thinking." Cara tapped her pencil on her clipboard as she started to pace. "I need a killer report. Like, whoa. And I need to give them an ultimatum. My way or the highway."
"Don't say it like that, though."
"Because they need to get with the program. Hello, it's the twenty-first century. We need to be doing big things, bold things. No more empty, preserved tombs."
"I think you've lost me."
Cara stopped right in front of her best friend and tapped the pencil on her clipboard once more time. "Living history, Daph. Living. History."
"Okay. Count me in. Team #LivingHistory."
"Oh my God. Yes. Hashtag. Blog." She waved her pencil in the air. "You're going to have to help me with that."
"I have to work in two hours."
"Not today." Cara shook her head. "I mean, I don't need your help today. Yes, go to work. I need to finish this up, and that's going to take me a couple of days, but come this weekend, Daph, we're going to blow the socks off this island."
"Nobody wears socks. It's a hundred degrees in the shade."
Cara scribbled that down. It was good. Then she wrote Tourism Board above it, because there was more than one way to open a coconut. "You're a genius, Daphne."
"What did I say?"
"Shade. Beach. Tourism. Genius."
"Okay. I want a cut of the profits."
"No profits. Non-profit, to be more specific. Oh, this is going to be good."
Cara left her friend standing in the ballroom as she took the stairs two at a time. Tricky in heels, but her enthusiasm didn't care.
"I'm still not clear on what this is," Daphne hollered after her.
"#LivingHistory," Cara shouted back, her face splitting into a grin. It didn't matter if she hadn't explained it properly to Daphne just yet. She could see it so clearly now in her head, it was a thing of beauty.
She couldn't wait to tell Mick.
SEVENTEEN
"TURN RIGHT IN FOUR HUNDRED YARDS," Mick's GPS lady told him.
He raised his eyebrows. As he was currently driving a rental car down the Overseas Highway that stretched between the islands of the Florida Keys, turquoise water on either side, that was quite a trick she was proposing. But then up ahead appeared another island, and crazy British computer lady voice reminded him his turn was coming up.
Search and SEALs was located on Angel Cay, a tiny slice of white sand and palm trees. Mick figured it was as good a place as any to train search and rescue dogs. The island was small but private, and the dogs set up a racket when he pulled to a stop in front of a group of bungalows. Finn came bounding out of the one labeled "Office," although Mick had never seen an office with an ocean view like this one. The blue water of the Gulf was everywhere he looked.
"What are you doing here? I thought you were all-in down on Miralinda."
Mick held out his hand and Finn shook it-a rough, familiar greeting that helped settle Mick a bit.
Just a bit, though. He couldn't stop thinking about Cara. "Yeah. I am. I'm going back. I just needed to get away for a bit, and the island's like ten feet long, so … thought I'd come visit you guys. Thought we could talk business a bit, too."
"Using Will's money to pay other people to do the work for you?" his friend poked good-naturedly.
"Nah. Not doing any construction yet." Mick cleared his throat. "We ran into a snag. Turns out the estate needs to be probated or something. Gonna delay us a few months. It's all good, though."
Except it wasn't good, not exactly. It was resolved, as much as it could be. Settled. Done.
But good? That was far from certain. The Historical Society had invested real money in Villa Sucre, and someone-Cara-would have to be held accountable for that waste.
Finn frowned at him. "You don't seem enthusiastic about this new venture."
Mick shook his head. "I am. It's just complicated. There was a woman … "
Finn laughed as Mick trailed off. "Shit. That's never a good complication. Unless she's stacked, in which case, bring it on."
A flare of jealousy lit up in Mick's chest. "That's none of your business."
"Uh-huh."
"Uh-huh, nothing."
"Not just a woman. But a woman. One you've developed inconvenient feelings for?"
"What would you know about that?"
"All feelings are inconvenient. Talked to Evan, though, about Dex and feelings appear to be making the rounds."
"Yeah, that's some news about Dex, eh? He actually wanted to borrow the plantation for a private getaway with his new bride."
"And he can't have it because … "
Mick scuffed his heel against the sandy dirt. "It turned out Will wasn't the only one who thought he'd inherited Villa Sucre."
Finn let out a low wolf-whistle and crossed his arms. "This story I gotta hear. Over a glass of something cold?"
Mick nodded and followed Finn inside the main building. "This is great place. You gonna show me around?"
"Think of this as a hostage exchange," Finn tossed over his shoulder. "First I hear about the girl. Then you get the tour."
Finn held up two cold beers and Mick nodded. Then he silently followed his friend out to the patio behind the office.
Mick started at the beginning and didn't leave much out, except for the parts where Cara got naked. That was nobody else's business but his. "So I'm giving her some space-to clear out of the plantation, to re-focus on her job and give it all she's got. She's worried she might lose her position over this, which is so fucking unfair."
"You're not worried she's going to loot the place?"
Mick shot his friend a dirty look. "No. Jesus."
"Trust her that much, huh?"
Yeah, he did. "It's not her fault that this got messed up. Hell, she was probably right to try and preserve it … "
They sat in silence for a minute, maybe two, before Finn cleared his throat. "You gonna finish that thought?"
Mick rubbed the tension spot between his eyebrows. "It's done and over."
"It feel over?"
No. "I'm not sure it's my fight, you know? I'm just barely getting my life back together. Trying to make Will and Cara and everyone else happy … that's too much."
"Huh."
"What?"