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to slip into her office, a dark-skinned man in sunglasses stepped into her path, folding a business card into her palm.
    â€œHey, I’m Duncan,” he said. “I noticed you the moment you walked into the lobby.”
    Emilie was so taken aback she stuttered, “Uh…I beg your pardon.”
    â€œYou’re here for the party, right?” He glanced at her ring finger and smiled. “The singles party?”
    â€œActually I’m not here for the event. I work here.”
    â€œToo bad. Maybe you’ll change your mind and attend.”
    â€œSome other time, perhaps.” Emilie smiled vacantly and attempted to slide by. A noticeably crestfallen Duncan slunk past her.
    Duncan seemed pleasant enough but so not her type. The last thing she needed was to have it all over town that she attended a singles party at her work-place. It would surely scream “desperate” and get the tongues wagging even more.
    Emilie entered her office and flipped on the light. Zoe was long gone, out of there on the dot of five. But Emilie had forgotten a folder she needed. She’d promised Tom Burke he’d have the room occupancy report on his desk first thing tomorrow and she planned on working at home. Hopefully business would pick up in the next two weeks. If not, it wouldn’t be for her lack of effort. Tom would be pleased with the signed six-month, two-hundred-room contract from Landsdale International but that still wasn’t enough.
    Emilie grabbed the folder and left. As she was crossing the employee parking lot her cell phone jingled. She glanced at the screen, smiling as she recognized the number.
    â€œHey, Chere,” Emilie said, after pressing the receiver to her ear.
    â€œHey, girl, what’s the deal? I haven’t heard from you lately. You still interested in buying my husband’s condo?”
    â€œOf course I am. I’ve just been crazy busy and haven’t had the time to do much about it. “
    â€œWell, I’ve had an out-of-town offer so huge I’m going to have to talk to Quen about it. I thought maybe you’d want to counter.”
    â€œHow much are we talking about?”
    Chere named a figure.
    Emilie’s stomach plummeted. “Ouch! I can’t come even close to that. You’ll have to start shopping for something else in my price range.”
    Just the thought of having to pack up and move made Emilie groan. Plus moving was expensive. She’d have to cough up first month’s rent, last and security. It would be a sizeable chunk and she’d have nothing to show for it afterward. Maybe she should try to rustle up the money for a down payment for a condo from somewhere.
    Hardly good timing though, especially since she had no assurance she’d be in Flamingo Beach long-term. Tom’s instructions were clear: the hotel’s occupancy rate needed boosting or she would be out of a job, and therefore unable to pay a mortgage. She had to think about this.
    â€œEmilie, you there?”
    â€œI’m here. Just wondering how I can swing this.”
    â€œGet creative, child. If this doesn’t work out I’ll find you something else. You know I got your back.”
    By the time Emilie got to her rented condo in Flamingo Place her head was pounding. She had so much to think about. Quen’s two-bedroom apartment with the view of the bay suited her perfectly. Not often did you find a twelve-hundred-square-foot apartment in a gated community with really nice oak floors, and a fireplace that was seldom used. She used that fireplace to stash candles. The spacious balcony held a table and two lounge chairs where she liked to get sun.
    Emilie’s cat, a rust-colored tabby she had rescused from a Dumpster, greeted her as she entered. She squatted down to pet the beast behind the ear.
    â€œDid you have a good day, Big Red?”
    The cat’s answering meow indicated she wanted her meal. Emilie kicked off her heels at the