“Unfortunately,” Piper replies.

Dash stops. “She didn’t.”

“She did.” Piper gives me a sympathetic grin. “I’m sorry. Grandma wasn’t sure that he actually had a real-live girlfriend, so…” She trails off. “Well, see for yourself.”

Piper leads us through a massive, gleaming lobby with marble floors and a huge circular staircase, and straight to the back of the house. The back wall is made of French doors, and they all stand open, revealing more manicured lawns, a palatial terrace, and a stunning view of the ocean.

That, and a hundred-plus gorgeous women.

I look around in shock. OK, so maybe it isn’t all women. There are some couples, and older people here too, and a bunch of guys hanging out by the bar area in pale linen pants. But mostly?

Women. Dolled up in pastels, sipping champagne. Diamonds and gold gleam at their ears and throats. All they need are a few ponies and hats and we could reshoot a beach version of the polo scene from Pretty Woman.

And meanwhile I’m not-so-fresh from the airport, wearing my most comfortable cargo pants and a tank top. “Did we stumble into the next season of the Bachelor?” I whisper to Dash, tugging my grungy shirt that I’m pretty sure is sporting a light dusting of pretzel crumbs.

“I swear, I had no idea,” he says, and from the grim look on his face, I believe him.

“I’d say enjoy the party, but…” Piper winces. “I can’t stay, I have a video conference, but good luck!”

Piper makes a quick escape. Dash pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m really sorry about this. I promise I had no idea. Zelda is…”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish because the hordes of eligible bachelorettes have noticed his presence and are descending like a swarm of hungry hair-tossing locusts.

“Dash, sweetheart, how have you been?”

“It’s been so long!”

“I haven’t seen you since Aspen, what a hoot.”

It’s either move or risk certain death by trampling, so I scoot way off to the side, taking cover by a gorgeous, stone fountain featuring Neptune surrounded by what appear to be assorted sea creatures.

I squint. Except, that sea creature to the left of the mermaid has four legs and horns. I’m leaning closer to figure out what it is when something furry brushes my hand.

I yelp and spin, to find a goat nibbling on my pants.

A goat.

In the middle of a fancy cocktail party. I guess now I know what inspired the fountain. But now I’m worried about those teeth working overtime on my pants. “Shoo!” I try, but it stays munching. “Give that back!”

“You know he’s not going to answer you, right?”

I turn. A friendly-looking blonde woman is standing there, dressed in white linen and pearls. “Sadly, goat is not my native language,” I agree, finally yanking my pants free.

“Really?” the blonde coos. “You look like you’d be at home with livestock.”

Did I say she looked friendly? Scratch that. Because now that I’m not wrestling free from a tiny hell-beast, I can see that her smile doesn’t reach anywhere near her eyes.