I had a single backpack slung over my shoulder, light enough that I hardly looked like someone here on vacation.
"Peggy, can't you make life a little easier on people for once?"
"You didn't say a word before flying out to Bali. You haven't answered a single message since yesterday."
"And now you show up out of nowhere, not even any luggage. You didn't give me and Victoria any chance to prepare."
My eyes drifted to the white wedding dress behind Victoria, and a faint, amused smile crossed my lips.
"Prepare for what?"
"Did I interrupt the little destination wedding you two were throwing here?"
"Peggy!"
Brendan's face went cold as he cut me off. "Could you not talk in that snide tone of yours?"
"Then where did the wedding dress come from?"
"Didn't you say Victoria was just your good buddy? It's a vacation in Bali. Why bring a wedding dress?"
Brendan let out an exasperated breath. "Victoria saw other people taking bridal photos and got a little envious, that's all. It's just photos. Do you have to make a federal case out of everything?"
"Brendan, why are you being so harsh with your wife!"
Victoria stood off to the side, frowning as she fussed with the tent, then suddenly spoke up, all sweet understanding.
"Peggy, if you don't feel like pitching the tent yourself, I can have Brendan do it for you."
"Though you know how he is. Clumsy hands. Last time he tried to put together a queen bed at my place, he assembled the whole thing backwards. A tent's probably beyond him too."
She made it sound offhand, but every word carried a barb.
I didn't answer. I just slipped on my earbuds and ignored her.
Brendan gave a cold snort.
"Forget it, don't bother with her. Let's see how she manages on her own."
"Victoria, let's go take our photos."
Four-thirty in the afternoon.
The sea breeze rolled in off the water, salty and damp.
The beach was filling up—some people splashing in the surf, others laughing and roughhousing.
And there were Brendan and Victoria, dressed like a couple about to get married.
Victoria wore a white wedding gown with a long train, and Brendan stood barefoot in the shallows. The two of them smiled into each other's eyes.
The photographer called out beside them: "Good, hold it, look at me! Yes, yes, perfect!"
I watched for two seconds, then looked away.
Then I walked over to a man nearby in a black shirt.
"Hi. Could I borrow a light?" I dug a pack of cigarettes out of my bag.
He looked up, glanced at me, and pulled a lighter from his pocket, holding it out.
I lit one, took a drag, and slowly exhaled.
The smoke scattered fast in the sea wind, vanishing without a trace.
"And here I thought you were the good-girl type."
He watched the way I smoked, one corner of his mouth lifting.
"Never would've guessed it. You actually smoke?"
"You can't judge a book by its cover."
I let the smoke out, my gaze drifting lazily over to the two of them by the water, nearly wrapped in each other's arms.
The man followed my eyes, his gaze landing on Brendan, his smile turning more knowing.
"That your boyfriend?"
"Husband. Soon to be ex, though."
The man snorted out a laugh.
"Interesting."
"The way he's all over that woman, he's got scumbag written all over him. Good for you, dumping him."
He turned suddenly, holding out a hand with a soft laugh.
"I'm Spencer Delgado. Care to introduce yourself?"
I studied him without a word.
I'd noticed earlier this morning that this man had been watching me for a while.
Every word of my exchange with Brendan and the others, he'd heard plainly.
So when he'd just sidled up to make conversation, now, looking at his face, I frowned slightly.
"Why do you feel familiar to me? Have I seen you somewhere before?"
Spencer gave a mysterious smile. And then—
