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married a mainlander, and now the Hathaways reigned over Sanctuary. It was the Hathaways who had lived there, worked there, sweated time and blood over the keeping of the house and the protection of the island for more than thirty years now.
    But Sanctuary still was, and always would be, the Pendleton house, high on the hill.
    And there seemed to be no escaping from it.
    She stuffed tips into her pocket and carried dirty plates away. The minute she stepped into the kitchen, her eyes went frigid. She shed her charm like a snake sheds its skin. It only infuriated her more that Brian was impervious to the cold shoulder she jammed in his face.
    She dumped the dishes, snagged the fresh pot of coffee, then swung back into the dining room.
    For two hours she served and cleared and replaced setups—and dreamed of where she wanted to be.
    Broadway. She’d been so sure she could make it. Everyone had told her she had a natural talent. Of course, that was before she went to New York and found herself up against hundreds of other young women who’d been told the same thing.
    She wanted to be a serious actress, not some airheaded bimbo who posed for lingerie ads and billed herself as an actress-model. She’d fully expected to start at the top. After all, she had brains and looks and talent.
    Her first sight of Manhattan had filled her with a sense of purpose and energy. It was as if it had been waiting for her, she thought, as she calculated the tab for table six. All those people, and that noise and vitality. And, oh, the stores with those gorgeous clothes, the sophisticated restaurants, and the overwhelming sense that everyone had something to do, somewhere to go in a hurry.
    She had something to do and somewhere to go too.
    Of course, she’d rented an apartment that had cost far too much. But she hadn’t been willing to settle for some cramped little room. She treated herself to new clothes at Bendel’s, and a full day at Elizabeth Arden. That ate a large chunk out of her budget, but she considered it an investment. She wanted to look her best when she answered casting calls.
    Her first month was one rude awakening after another. She’d never expected so much competition, or such desperation on the faces of those who lined up with her to audition for part after part.
    And she did get a few offers—but most of them involved her auditioning on her back. She had too much pride and too much self-confidence for that.
    Now that pride and self-confidence and, she was forced to admit, her own naïveté, had brought her full circle.
    But it was only temporary, Lexy reminded herself. In a little less than a year she would turn twenty-five and then she’d come into her inheritance. What there was of it. She was going to take it back to New York, and this time she’d be smarter, more cautious, and more clever.
    She wasn’t beaten, she decided. She was taking a sabbatical. One day she would stand onstage and feel all that love and admiration from the audience roll over her. Then she would be someone.
    Someone other than Annabelle’s younger daughter.
    She carried the last of the plates into the kitchen. Brian was already putting the place back into shape. No dirty pots and pans cluttered his sink, no spills and smears spoiled his counter. Knowing it was nasty, Lexy turned her wrist so that the cup stacked on top of the plates tipped, spilling the dregs of coffee before it shattered on the tile.
    “Oops,” she said and grinned wickedly when Brian turned his head.
    “You must enjoy being a fool, Lex,” he said coolly. “You’re so good at it.”
    “Really?” Before she could stop herself, she let the rest of the dishes drop. They hit with a crash, scattering food and fragments of stoneware all over. “How’s that?”
    “Goddamn it, what are you trying to prove? That you’re as destructive as ever? That somebody will always come behind you to clean up your mess?” He stomped to a closet, pulled out a broom. “Do it