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passion.
    Another shiver coursed through her spine, and Audrey rolled over, squeezed her eyes shut. Just get me off this island , she thought.
     
     
    The boats came for the guests at ten sharp the next morning. Some of them were still dressed in the loud floral print shirts and baggy shorts they’d worn the night before and stumbled barefoot onto the beach, clutching a bottle of booze in one hand.
    More than one party animal had to be escorted by staff to the waiting boats and deposited gingerly on the white cushioned seats below.
    Marty Weiss, the birthday boy, was one of the last to come out of the compound, and only after several sharp warnings from his wife. He winced at the sight of Carol standing and waiting by the golf cart that would whisk them down to the beach and the boats. Her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes, and her unnaturally blond hair was standing practically on end. From where he stood, it looked like she’d buttoned her Hawaiian shirt wrong, and he wondered only mildly where she’d been all night.
    He hated to leave the island—he’d had the time of his life here. He glanced nostalgically around, and spied Audrey LaRue coming out the back door of the cottage where she had stayed. She was wearing linen trousers and a halter top and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The woman was beautiful, he thought with a sigh. Just gorgeous.
    He glanced back at Carol, who had shifted her full weight onto one hip, one hand on her waist, glaring at him. He gave her a tentative wave, then instantly started in Audrey’s direction.
    Marty scarcely gave Audrey time to register his presence before grabbing her up in a big bear hug and lifting her off her feet. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. “ Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
    “You’re welcome,” she said, pushing against him. “Will you please put me down?”
    He put her down, held her at arm’s length, and beamed at her. “You’re really marvelous, Audrey. Do you think that—”
    “ Marty! ”
    Carol had snuck up directly behind him, judging by the blast of her voice that rang in his ears and made him jump through his skin. “The boat is leaving ,” she said, practically foaming at the mouth. “So unless Miss LaRue is going to fly you in a private plane to Chicago—”
    “N-no!” Audrey LaRue quickly interjected. “I, ah . . . I can’t . It’s not my plane.”
    “It’s not?” Carol asked, momentarily distracted.
    “It belongs to the record label. Not me. I have no control over the plane or who flies in it,” she said, both hands up and waving.
    “ Damn ,” Marty muttered, disappointed.
    Carol whirled back to him, her bloodshot eyes narrowed on him. “Good grief , Marty! Your little birthday fantasy is over !”
    “And it was the best birthday of my life, Carol,” he said earnestly before turning back to Audrey. He grabbed Audrey’s hand and ignored her squeal of protest as he brought it to his lips. “ Thank you , Audrey. You have made this the most memorable birthday—”
    “No, Martin, I made this the most memorable birthday!” Carol shouted, slapping at his hand. “Stop pawing her!”
    Audrey yanked her hand from his grip and smiled a little. “You take care now, Mr. Weiss,” she said, glancing uneasily at Carol.
    “Take care? My whole life has been transformed—”
    “Oh for God’s sake , Marty! She could be your granddaughter!” Carol snapped as she began marching toward the golf cart.
    “Not my granddaughter !” he shouted back, offended. “My daughter!”
    But as it was apparent that Audrey LaRue was not going to save him from traveling with a postmenopausal woman who had not slept or eaten in several hours, Marty consoled himself with the thought that he would always have the video of his birthday bash concert, as well as the pictures of him and Audrey LaRue, to remind him of his one glimpse at heaven.
    And that evening, when he arrived home in Chicago, the first thing he did was head for the