Alexis snorted, but the man didn't hear her over the wind. Nice bar crowd sounded like an oxymoron to her.

"I'll take it under advisement," she replied. The dock came into view and Alexis felt her heart skip a beat. Not long now.

"Do you need a ride to your rental? I could call you a golf cart. I guess you know there are no cars on the island."

"I've made arrangements," she said.

"Then you're more organized than most of my customers," he said.

Alexis didn't doubt it. She prided herself on her organizational skills.

"Here we are," he said, pulling up to the dock. He helped her out first, then turned back to retrieve her luggage. "Hey Don." He waved to the man sitting in the bright blue golf cart with white shells painted on the side. "Guess that's your transport."

"It is." She took her bags and paid the man.

Don climbed out of the golf cart and came to assist her. "See ya, Marty."

The water taxi operator gave a backhanded wave before returning to the boat. Alexis climbed into the passenger seat. Since Mangrove Island was a car-free zone, most people got around on foot, bicycle, boat or golf cart. Even at thirty-five years old, Alexis still didn't drive a car. Life in big cities made certain of that.

"So what's your destination?" asked Don, lifting her luggage into the back of the cart. He wore a long-sleeved blue and white floral shirt, khaki shorts and sandals. Alexis wondered if he dressed like that to get tourists in the right frame of mind.

"Rumrunner Road," she answered and he gave her a sideways glance.

"Which number?"

"Three."

He whistled. "I thought you looked familiar. You're one of Tilly and Greg's girls, aren't you? The younger one."

The observation made her oddly uncomfortable. She'd been living in anonymity for so long, she'd forgotten what it was like to be recognized.

"Alexis," she said stiffly.

"Alexis," he repeated. "You went to school with my daughter, Charlotte."

Alexis didn't have strong memories of high school. She'd made new ones at every opportunity, shaking off the grains of island sand and moving on as quickly as possible. "What's the last name?"

He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure there was only one Charlotte back then. Collins was the name. She's Burke now."

Alexis feigned a smile. "Charlotte Collins, of course. How is she?" Alexis still didn't have a clue, but her island manners began to creep back into her essence involuntarily.

By the time the cart pulled up in front of her parents' house, the sunlight had faded. Alexis squinted to better examine the front. It looked the same as it had during her childhood; tidy and well-kept save the cartoon-colored Christmas lights and oversized plastic reindeer on the modest front lawn. An inflatable Santa completed the look.




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