“No, work. We put on such a good event, they added an hour. But we’re making good time. Parker made Carter drive in the middle so he’s squeezed between us and Jack and has to keep up. We’d like to place an order for many frozen margaritas and big fat steaks.”

“We’re happy to serve you. Hey, listen.”

In a moment she heard the whooshing sound. “It’s the ocean! Parker, listen.” She held the phone to her friend’s ear. “It’s our ocean. Are you on the beach?” she demanded when she had Del back.

“Just walked down.”

“Have fun, but not too much fun until we get there.”

“I’ll pace myself. Oh, hey, do you know if Mal got off?”

“No. Is he coming in tonight?”

“He wasn’t sure. I’ll give him a call. See you soon.”

“Can’t wait.” She closed the phone. “Mal might be coming in tonight.”

“Lovely.”

“He’s okay, Parker.”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t. I haven’t adjusted to the change in our group dynamic.”

“Plus, he’s got that kind of look in his eye that says: How about it, sister?”

“Yes!” Parker took her hand off the wheel to point at Laurel. “Exactly. I don’t like it. It’s a kind of sexual swagger.”

“Yeah, but it’s honest. Remember that guy you went out with a couple times. Geoffrey—spelled the Brit way—wine baron or something.”

“He had an interest in a few vineyards.”

“And spoke fluent French and Italian, knew about cinema as opposed to movies, skied in San Moritz. He turned out to be a complete sleaze, total sexist asshole under all that culture and polish.”

“God, he really did.” The memory had Parker shaking her head and sighing. “I can usually spot them, but he slipped right under the radar. Look.”

Laurel turned her head and got the first glimpse of the ocean. “There it is,” she murmured. “It’s real. We’re so damn lucky, Parker.”

She thought the same thing again, with a whip of stupefaction when she got her first glimpse of the house.

“That?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“That’s your beach house? It’s a beach mansion, Parker.”

“It’s big, but there are a lot of us.”

“It’s gorgeous. It looks like it’s been there forever, perfect for the spot, and still kinda sleek and new.”

“It is gorgeous,” Parker agreed. “I hoped it would be, that it wasn’t just the pictures. And it’s so private. Oh, and look at the sand and the water, and the pond and everything!”

Together they studied the rooflines, the long span of windows, the charm of decks, the fancy of the cupolas.

She spotted a tennis court, a swimming pool as Parker followed the private drive to the front of the house.