a sidewalk rack in some Caribbean island town where an artist had dyed, then painted, the fabric, but she had rarely worn it. At the Riviera Country Club or at Bel Air, where she would have been hobnobbing with Hollywood stars and other notables, the dress would have been out of place. Here, she wasn’t sure she cared.
“Thanks.” She smiled at him. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”
“And I’ve been looking forward to having a beautiful woman on my arm again.”
“That’s very kind.”
“No, just very true.” He held out his arm. “May I?”
He helped her into his Saab, which was, despite the presence of a child in his life, absolutely spotless. No gum wrappers or forgotten flip-flops. That made Tracy smile again. Clearly Lee had made an effort tonight.
He got in and turned the key. The engine kicked once, then died.
“That’s odd.” Lee tried again with the same results. The third time it didn’t start at all.
“Have you been having problems?” Tracy asked.
“No, but my mechanic was out of town, so I had it tuned up at a new garage this morning. They swore they’ve worked on plenty of Saabs.”
Tracy saw a lovely evening evaporating. “Even if it starts, we don’t want to break down. Let’s take mine. You can call the garage in the morning.”
“I hate to make you drive.”
“Not a problem.” Tracy opened her door and got out. Luckily he had parked on the road and hadn’t blocked the driveway. She unlocked the driver’s door of the Z3, watching Lee smooth his hand over the hood as she did. He was looking at the convertible with longing, the way a little boy eyes a neighbor kid’s brand-new bike. She reached across the roof and held out her keys.
“You drive.”
“I’m perfectly comfortable being your gigolo.”
She liked this man. He had shown up at her door looking far better than presentable, his slacks pressed to perfection, his gray sports coat an expensive, tropical-weight linen over a charcoal-colored shirt. She liked the way he could poke fun at himself. She stretched her arm farther so the keys were practically tickling his chest.
“Drive.”
“You clearly understand men.”
After she showed him how to put the top down and they were cruising along the road, they chatted about nothing, as if they had been friends for years. She felt no pressure to entertain him. He told funny stories about selling real estate; he asked good questions. They arrived before she knew it. She hadn’t realized how close the yacht club really was, or possibly it was just as far away as she’d thought, and she’d just been too charmed to notice.
Now she took stock of their destination. The Sun County Yacht Club was Tara in miniature, pretentiously and classically Deep South in flavor, with nothing of Florida in the architecture. A circular driveway bordered by softly glowing lanterns led to the front steps, and as they approached, a young man in a white jacket stepped up to park the car. Lee gave him the keys and sternly admonished him to take care of it. Tracy saw him slip the valet a bill, and she was glad that she hadn’t been the one behind the wheel.
Lee helped her out, then led her up the steps, which extended between four massive Doric pillars that looked strong enough to hold the entire state of Florida.
Lee put his hand on her back to guide her to the door. “The yacht club’s been around for almost a hundred years, but only in this building for ten. As clubs like this one go, it’s pretty exclusive.”
Tracy saw the humor. “This isn’t exactly Palm Beach.”
He winked. “Tell them if you want, but I don’t plan to mention it. They may not have star power, but they’re still sure they’re better than everybody else.”
“I guess that’s a start.”
“They turn down five applications for every one they accept. Maribel had to twist a few arms when I came up for review. But it’s a wonderful place to make contacts. I’ve had a few of my best sales strictly because I’m a member.”
She liked Lee’s casual, self-deprecating style. She suspected it played well here, where the old guard would expect to be catered to by upstarts.
Inside, he was warmly greeted by name by several club personnel. Tracy found herself standing taller. For the first time since leaving everything that was familiar, she felt at home. She knew this place. The fresher-than-fresh flowers, air cooled to the perfect temperature, gleaming white Carrara marble floors and crystal