“It’s Remi. She’d get out of control on ice water and potato chips,” Darius insisted.

“Do not make her another one,” Brick warned.

“Do not start with the overbearing protector routine,” Remi complained. She was already feeling a lick of warmth spread through her. Though she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the argumentative bearded bear in front of her.

“While you two are bickering, I’ll take another one,” Kimber said, waving her empty glass.

“What the hell, Kims? Did it evaporate?” Remi asked.

“The initiative,” Kimber insisted, more sharply this time.

Brick crossed his arms on the other side of the stretch of wood. “What about it?”

“Let’s talk how to organize it while keeping the entire thing as simple as possible,” Kimber said.

To be contrary, Remi polished off the rest of her drink with a noisy slurp while her sister and nemesis discussed things like how to drum up volunteers and frequency of visits. Brick looked like he wanted to slap the glass out of her hand. When he left to deliver two sandwiches on plates piled high with French fries, Darius put another vodka soda in front of Kimber and then slid a tall glass of pink, frothy liquid at Remi with a wink.

“What is this?” she asked, sniffing it. “It smells like grain alcohol.”

“I call it a pink flamingo,” Darius said. “Just don’t breathe near open flames.”

“You’re hauling her ass home when she can’t walk,” Brick announced, throwing a towel at Darius.

“You said not to make her another Tiki Tea,” Darius pointed out.

“Excuse me, gentlemen—and I use that term very loosely. But I can walk my own damn self home,” Remi argued.

“No, you can’t,” the entire bar chimed in.

“Can we get back to how to enlist volunteers?” Kimber asked.

Remi half-listened while they debated screening and enforcement.

“Are we boring you?” Brick asked, his tone neutral, but there was something happening behind those blue eyes of his.

She pointed her straw at both of them. “You’re overthinking this.”

“Okay, smarty-pants,” Kimber said. “How do you suggest we enlist volunteers to do the visits?”

Remi dunked the straw back into her pink flamingo. She was starting to feel pretty darn good. “The same way every organization gets them. We force them into it.”

“Elaborate,” Brick demanded.

“We get together with a couple of islanders. The ones who lay the best guilt trips. Mira Rathbun. Dad. Bill House. Mayor Early,” she said, ticking the names off on her fingers. “We ask them to help recruit volunteers. Within a week, we’ll have more volunteers than we know what to do with.”

“And what will the three of us do?” Kimber asked, her eyes narrowing in consideration.

Remi shrugged. “I don’t know? Take the credit?”

Brick didn’t quite cover his laugh with a cough. “You never change, do you?”

Um. Ouch. “That remains to be seen,” she said haughtily.

Kimber’s phone vibrated again on the bar. This time she glanced at the screen. “Since you two have it all figured out, I guess I’ll take this.” She slid off her seat and headed for the hallway that led to the kitchen, office, and restrooms. “What is so important I couldn’t have ten minutes to myself, Kyle?” Remi heard her snap as she disappeared around the corner.