“So, you were a lifeguard on Midtown Beach,” she was saying. “Before you became a kept man. What does a lifeguard do – in Palm Beach?”

I grinned, because Tess was so obviously tossing me a softball. “A good lifeguard is a true waterman,” I said with a twinkle in my eye. “We watch the water. Is it glassy, choppy? Are there riffs? Smooth flashes warning of riptides? We warn the sleepy snowbird to roll over and fry the other side. Douse the occasional jellyfish encounter with a splash of vinegar. Stuff like that.”

“But now you’re a kept man?” She grinned.

“Maybe I could be,” I said.

She turned. There was glimmer in her eye that was totally earnest. “You know what I said about your luck changing, Ned. Well, maybe I’m starting to feel the same way, too.”

I couldn’t believe that someone like Tess McAuliffe was actually saying this to me. Everything about her was first-class and refined. I mean, I wasn’t exactly Average Joe; I knew if I was on the show, I’d be one of the hunks. But holding her, I couldn’t help wondering what in her life had made her so sad. What she was hiding in her eyes that first day on the beach.

My eyes slowly drifted to the antique clock on the foldout writing desk across from the bed. “Oh, Jesus, Tess!”

It was almost five. The whole afternoon had melted. “I know I’m going to regret these words… but I’ve got to go.”

I saw that sad look from the other day come over her face. Then she sighed, “Me, too.”

“Look, Tess,” I said, putting a leg into my jeans, “I didn’t know this was going to happen today, but there’s something I have to do. I may not see you for a couple of days. But when I do, things are going to be different.”

“Different? How different?”

“With me. For starters, I won’t have to keep people out of trouble on the beach.”

“I like you keeping people out of trouble on the beach.” Tess smiled.