It wasn’t exactly the platinum pedigree that the elder Paynes no doubt wanted for the romantic partner of their only child.

However, the only thing Tilda’s parents had objected to in that moment was her opening the 2016 Blueprint. Granger fetched two balloon goblets from the crystal cabinet (Tilda and Cash were drinking the wine out of regular tumblers) and poured wine for himself and Lauren, then they retreated to the master wing, which was so far from Tilda’s wing that it was like a separate house.

When Cash asked how much Tilda’s parents knew about his situation, she said, “I tell my mother everything and she tells my dad.”

“And do they…care?”

“Granger will probably have questions in the morning,” Tilda said.

But neither Tilda nor Cash had thought about the dog.

“So most of it was okay,” Tilda says now. “But not all of it?”

Cash thinks back to the first time Tilda brought him to the Peter Bay villa. Tilda and Cash were caring for Tilda’s very drunk friend Max, and Cash had noticed the villa’s terrifyingly white furnishings because he was afraid Max might vomit on them. And then later, at dinner, Tilda told Cash she volunteered to walk dogs at the shelter because her parents wouldn’t let her get a dog of her own.

But Tilda hadn’t balked for even one second about Cash bringing Winnie with him, though she did suggest Winnie stay only in Tilda’s wing of the house. (The line about Winnie living mostly outside was a lie.) And Virgie, the housekeeper, had seemed not only unbothered by Winnie but downright delighted by her. She had even brought Winnie treats!

“Your dad told me Winnie has to go,” Cash says.

They have reached the parking lot across from Mongoose Junction. Tilda pulls in. “I was afraid of that.”

“I’m not sure what to do,” Cash says.

“Your mom?” Tilda says. “Baker?”

“Maybe?” Cash says. Baker is at a hotel, so the answer is no, or not yet. His mother…argh. She loves Winnie, but she’s a guest herself, just like Cash. He manufactures a smile. “I’ll figure something out. Can you come pick me up at four? If not, I’ll hitch.”

“If you think I’m going to let someone else pick you up, you’re crazy,” she says, and she leans over for a kiss.

“Thank you,” Cash says.

“You’re not allowed to thank me.”

“I know, but…I want you to know that I’m grateful. The timing on all of this was so…bad. Our relationship is still so new and you’ve done so much.”

“All I’ve really done is save you from pining after Ayers,” Tilda says. “I told my mother you used to have a crush on her.”

“You did not,” Cash says. “Why did you do that? It wasn’t even a thing.”

“It was a thing,” Tilda says. “But it’s over now.”

“Over before it began,” Cash says. “Please don’t tell me you’re worried about Ayers.”

“She’s newly single,” Tilda says, shrugging. “And you’re with her every day.”

Cash takes Tilda’s face in his hands. He did have quite an intense crush on Ayers when he first got down here—he and Baker both did—but she ended up with Mick, and Cash’s feelings for her vanished as quickly as they’d appeared. He can still see she’s attractive, but all he feels for her is a brotherly fondness.

“I like you,” Cash says. He looks into Tilda’s hazel eyes. She’s so young, and yet so self-possessed and clearheaded and unspoiled despite her parents’ wealth.

“You’d better.”

“I do.”

“I feel bad about Winnie,” Tilda says. “But my parents will not be moved on the topic of a dog. I’m so sorry.” She kisses him again. “See you at four.”

What is he going to do about Winnie? What is he going to do? He feels unreasonably angry at Tilda’s parents. Winnie is such a good dog—the best of dogs. She’s more human than dog. They would realize that if they took the time to get to know her.

My parents will not be moved on the topic of a dog.

It’s their villa, they make the rules, and they aren’t bad people just because they aren’t dog people. What Cash is angry about is that he has no power. He’s at the mercy of others.

Peripatetic. Cash Googles it: “Of or relating to traveling or moving frequently; in particular, working or based in various places for short periods. Synonyms: nomadic, itinerant.”

Fortunately or unfortunately, there’s no time to ruminate on the situation with Winnie. Treasure Island has a completely full charter today since the boat has been out of commission for over a week, and the first person Cash sees is the captain, James, who does not look happy.

James is six foot six, West Indian, and though he’s only a little older than Cash, Cash thinks of him as a sir.

It’s seven thirty on the dot, so being late isn’t the issue, though there’s already a line of passengers waiting to check in, including a group of forty-something women who, Cash can tell, are ready for a good time. He thinks back to the charter when he babysat Tilda’s drunk friend Max and decides then and there that he’s not opening the bar until the snorkeling part of their trip is over.

“Hey, bruh,” James says and he shakes Cash’s hand. “Ayers isn’t coming. She called in sick.”

“Called in sick?”

“Yeah, bruh, so you’re on your own today.” James glances over at the group of women, who are making no secret of checking out James and Cash. “Good luck.”

Cash can’t believe Ayers called in sick on their first day back. She had all of last week to be sick. He wonders if maybe “sick” has something to do with her broken engagement. Maybe she’s depressed? Should Cash be worried? He’ll text her later. Right now, he has to check in twenty-seven people, record their passport information (since they’re heading to the British Virgin Islands), and collect their money. Mr. and Mrs. Bellhorn from Coral Gables would like to talk to Cash about getting a partial refund since the boat’s mechanical issues pushed this trip back five days, which was quite an inconvenience.

The phrase partial refund spreads like a virus. Everyone in line starts to repeat it because every single person—except for the group of women, who are from Wichita, Kansas—was originally scheduled to come on a different day.

Cash nearly makes a stern announcement that he isn’t the person who handles refunds and if they want to explore that possibility, they need to call the office, but then he realizes that without Ayers, he has an opportunity to shine—and by shine he means “make some serious tip money.” In an instant, his attitude changes. He’s not going to be grouchy Cash who has been left to do the paperwork and make the breakfast and wash the snorkel equipment and check the lines and make sure no one goes overboard and give the historical and ecological details of the Virgin Islands by himself. He is going to be warm, funny, solicitous, helpful Cash. He is going to go out of his way to ensure this is the best charter these twenty-seven people have ever been on.

“This is the number for the main office,” Cash says, sliding Mr. and Mrs. Bellhorn a card. “You want to ask for Whitney. I certainly hope she offers you a partial refund, though of course I can’t guarantee it. I’m very sorry about the inconvenience. I’m a planner myself and I do appreciate your patience.”