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swiftly, turned away. Marin thought she knew the face but couldn’t place it.
    Jackie’s voice carried over the water when she addressed the man, “Hey baby, you’re lookin’ hot.” Suddenly, she had a startled expression. “Where’d you get the black eye?”
    The man didn’t respond to her stare or question, never slowing his stride toward the wrought iron gate at the top of the ramp.
    Jackie swung around and walked backwards slowly to watch his escape.
    He moved with a slow, deliberate gait, and Marin couldn’t take her eyes off him. Who is he?
    Jackie turned back around and announced to the partiers, “One thing about Raphael, he’s hot going in both directions.”
    “That’s what started this whole mess,” Rob added.
    Beth started to ask, “Is that––?”
    “Raphael Montoya,” Jackie inserted.
    “The movie star?” Marin took another look at the escaping mega star.
    “Yep.” Rob Irwin glanced from Laura Douglas to her husband.
    Dan Douglas got up quickly from his chair and hastened into his boat.
    John came out of his boat’s cabin carrying three more pitchers of margaritas. He glanced at the facial expression on Marin, then Beth, then Jackie, then Rob. “Did I miss something?”
    “Yeah, the movie star,” Beth said.
    “Rafe? It’s about time he showed up.” John spun around and scanned the group. “Where is he?”
    “He took off without coming over.”
    In a low voice, John said, “The word is that Dan punched him in the face––he’s really messed up–––swollen jaw.”
    “And a terrible black eye. It’s horrible, even with the sunglasses.” Jackie pulled up the chair next to her husband and glanced over at the two new women. “Who have we here?” The 59-year-old lawyer leaned toward Marin. “You’re both beauties––and so young––wish I were still in my twenties.” She winked at Beth, then shook her head. “Not really.” Jackie reached over and poured herself the last margarita. “This is the best day of my life.” She held her drink up in what appeared to be a toast to her Rob. “The smartest guy I know once told me it’s the secret to a happy life—live in the moment.” She finished the margarita in one take. “It doesn’t get any better than this. John, my dear, I’m a little behind with the drinks.” She summoned his attention with her empty glass held out. While John poured, she turned back to the women. “By the way, I’m Jackie.”
    “Marin.”
    “She’s a criminology professor at the University,” Rob seemed to be grasping for something. “I didn’t get your last name.”
    “Ryan, Marin Ryan.” She smiled.
    “Huh, her dad was a seagoing captain and Irish to boot. That’s a perfect combination. She has the new Carver in E-28.” Rob pointed to the woman with long brown hair. “And this is Beth Hunter—John’s little sister.”
    “It’s good to meet both of you.”
    Out of earshot at the top of the dock ramp, a man of Marin’s age, wearing Levis and a yellow oxford button-down shirt, waited at the gate and stopped Raphael. He softly put his hand on the actor’s shoulder, reached up with his other, and gently turned the injured face to get a better look at the damage. The slender man said something that appeared to have a soothing effect over the actor.
    Raphael answered the significantly shorter man’s questions, and then he was off again toward the parking lot.
    “Who’s that?” Marin asked.
    “Mitch Taylor.” Jackie shook her head. “My, this dock is full of gorgeous, rich, single men—and all of them looking for a woman who doesn’t get seasick.”
    Sweat pouring off his brow, John plopped down in the nearest chair. “I need a break.”
    Beth was up and walking. “Johnny, I’m going back to your house.”
    “It’s early––have another drink.” Rob lifted the pitcher. “We’re just getting started.”
    “Thanks, but I’m tired from my meetings.”
    “We haven’t had a chance to talk about your big