“Don’t you dare apologize for me,” Temple retorted, taking in Lucy’s chin-length and much neater hairdo—compliments of Bree and her scissors. “I’m still infuriated with you.”

“I understand,” Lucy conceded. “And you’re right. I’m sorry. I should at least have left you a note.”

Temple sniffed. “You deserve to be sorry. When are you coming home?”

“She’s not,” Bree said firmly. “She’s staying here.”

“That’s what you think.”

Listening to the two of them argue over her made Lucy feel better than she had in days. Temple turned her back to Bree. Some of her aggression faded, and her brow knit with concern. “What did he do to you? He told me what happened at that dive you went to, but I know he didn’t tell me everything.” And then, to Bree, with forced politeness, “Would you mind going away so Lucy and I can talk?”

Lucy reluctantly put a halt to their tiff. “Stop glowering at her, Temple. She has every right to be here. I was planning to talk to you. I just didn’t want to go back to the house to do it.”

Wrong thing to say. Temple’s brow shot up in righteous anger. “Then obviously our friendship isn’t important to you.”

“That’s not true.” Lucy dropped her beach towel in a patch of shade and sat on it. As the spicy scent of basil drifted toward her, she filled Temple in on more of the details of what had happened at The Compass. When she was done, she hugged her knees to her chest. “I thought I was so tough.”

“You’re not seriously blaming yourself for not being able to fight off those gangsters,” Temple said.

“Other women do it.”

“In the movies.”

Her indignation was comforting, but Lucy couldn’t give herself a free pass.

In a single graceful movement, Temple dropped beside her on the beach towel. “I don’t understand why Panda was so stingy with the details.”

“Client privilege, I’m sure.” Lucy swallowed her bitterness. “Basically, that’s how he still sees me. As his responsibility.”

“He protected you,” Temple said adamantly. “So why are you so pissed with him?”

“I’m not,” she said. “I’m pissed with myself.”

“Sure. Blame the victim,” Bree interjected.

“It’s not that,” Lucy said. “All summer I pretended I was so tough. Joke’s on me, right?”

Temple brushed that away. “What about Panda? Why did you walk out on him?”

“Because our relationship was as phony as my tattoos.”

“It didn’t seem phony to me.” Temple looked over at Bree. “Anybody who sees them together can tell how hot they are for each other.”

Lucy didn’t like that. “I dumped my fiancé at the altar, and two weeks later, I jumped in bed with another man. Nice, right?”

“Normally, no,” Temple said. “But when the man is Panda …”