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respirators, unable to communicate or experience even a brief moment of pleasure, her frail body wracked by seizures, Lily knew she could not rest. Richard mayhave dreamt about her, but instead of riding in on a white horse to rescue her, he’d shown up as her adversary.
    “Do you remember the first night we were together?” he asked as a flock of seagulls swooped past them.
    “How could I forget?” Lily’s coworkers had all gathered at the Elephant Bar in Ventura to celebrate her promotion to chief of the sex crimes division, a position Richard had held before her. “I don’t know what possessed me to start chugging down shooters of tequila. I don’t even like tequila.”
    “Maybe if you hadn’t been intoxicated,” he said, giving her a knowing glance, “you would have never gone home with me.”
    “True,” Lily said, impressed with the simplicity of his analysis. In her opinion, Richard Fowler possessed two terrific attributes. He was a brilliant attorney, and he understood the opposite sex. Of course, this sounded strange for a man whose wife had left him for another woman.
    “Weren’t you celebrating something other than your promotion?” he asked, attempting to reconstruct the details of that night. “It was your birthday, right?”
    “Yes,” she answered. “No one remembered but my mother. Maybe that’s why I decided to get smashed.”
    “I didn’t know it was your birthday,” Richard said wistfully. “If I had, I would have flown you to the moon.”
    Lily bent over and picked up a piece of driftwood. “You did fly me to the moon,” she said, recalling their torrid lovemaking. The alcohol had lowered her inhibitions, but it was Richard himself who had brought her out of her shell, taught her that sex could be a delightful experience. “The only problem is, John found out and asked me to move out. I would have never been in that house alone with Shana if—”
    Richard’s back stiffened. “What did he see? All we were doing was saying goodbye in the parking lot. Does that mean I’m responsible for what happened?”
    “Of course not,” she said, tossing the driftwood into the water, “but I’d never had an affair before. Actions have consequences. Maybe the terrible things that happened were a form of punishment.”
    “Your marriage was over, Lily,” he said. “Your husband was already dipping his wand at the office.”
    “I guess having an affair could be classified as one of my lesser sins,” she said, her voice low and pensive. “Some of the things I’ve done are so despicable I feel as if I can’t stand up under the weight of them, like I’m carrying around this three-hundred-pound sack of bricks.”
    “Life has kicked us both below the belt,” Richard said, his voice rising several octaves. “Because I accidentally walked in and caught Judge Fisher snorting cocaine in his chambers, Butler demoted me. The same week I came home and found half the furniture had been moved out of my house, along with a note from Claire that said she was divorcing me.”
    “Butler’s a bastard,” Lily said, referring to the Ventura County district attorney. “You should have gone public with the cocaine allegation. Then both Fisher and Butler could have flushed their careers down the toilet. No one who snorts cocaine should sit on the bench. To this day, I don’t understand why you let them railroad you.”
    “I didn’t stand a chance,” Richard said. “It was Butler’s word against mine.”
    She removed his jacket and handed it back to him. “You should have a fairly easy drive if you leave now.”
    When they reached her Audi, Lily discovered it had a flat tire. Richard offered to change it, but she didn’t want to impose on him. “I’ll call Triple A,” she said. “I could even walk home and come back for the car tomorrow. My place is only a few blocks away.”
    “Don’t be silly,” he said, opening the door to his car for her. “I’ll drive you home. Then I’ll get a