“We could…” Addison says. “But we signed a contract.”

“There’s a clause at the end, didn’t you see it? The terms of the contract can be changed right up until the purchase and sale is signed and I write the first check.”

“What?” Addison says. “I did not see that.”

Eddie didn’t see the clause either. He holds his breath, wondering what he can do. Bursting through the hedge and knocking Bull to the ground comes to mind, but that won’t help his cause.

“Just think about it,” Bull says. “Fifty-fifty.”

“I couldn’t do that to Eddie,” Addison says, and Eddie feels himself misting up. Addison has his back.

“Maybe you could, though,” Bull says.

When Sharon pops out of the powder room—she’s wearing a Lilly bikini, but it’s not vintage and it doesn’t match her outfit (advantage Leslee)—Romeo is waiting for her.

“Sharon,” he says.

“Romeo.”

They stare at each other. Romeo is wearing the same board shorts he wore when they went to Whale Island, which makes Sharon’s heart ache. Who’s Golden Girl? You are. She wants to jump into his arms, but he’s got his tough-guy stance, the one he uses when some ass-clown from the city demands to skip the standby line in the height of summer so he can get his Tesla off the island.

Does he want to talk? Is he expecting an apology? Because Sharon has called him half a dozen times and sent an embarrassing number of texts, all of which went unanswered. If anything, it’s now Sharon who deserves an apology.

At that second, Benton appears; he’s bare-chested and in a pair of Billabong board shorts. “Ready to tub?” he asks.

Sharon holds Romeo’s gaze one moment longer. Is he going to fight for her? No—though he stabs Benton with the daggers in his eyes.

“Sure,” Sharon says. “Let’s go.”

“It’s an eight-sided hot tub, not an eight-person hot tub,” Leslee says. “Come on, we can all fit. Coco, would you please make sure everyone has a fresh drink and then pass the brownie cups one more time?”

The Chief takes the last brownie cup and winks at Coco. “Don’t tell Andrea.”

“Everyone climb in,” Leslee says. She shows people where she wants them; she’s probably had the seating chart planned for days: Leslee, the Chief, Blond Sharon, Benton Coe, Grace, Romeo, Busy, Addison, Phoebe, and Eddie. Bull isn’t getting in.

“Hot tubs aren’t for big blokes like me,” he says. “I’m sweating my balls off just looking at you all.”

“I’d like to sit next to my wife,” Eddie says. “Benton, what if you and I traded spots?”

“Spouses are always separated,” Leslee says. “Keeps things interesting.”

“Addison is next to his wife,” Eddie says.

“Eddie,” Grace says. “Stop being weird.”

Is he being weird? Is it inelegant that he doesn’t want his wife sitting next to the man she had an affair with nine summers ago? He doesn’t want things to get “interesting.” The hot tub is bubbling and steaming like a witch’s cauldron—and it’s pretty clear who the witch is.

Sharon leans her head back against the edge. “This is heavenly, Leslee.”

There are murmurs of agreement, but not from Eddie. He would like to get out of this people soup and talk some sense into Bull.

Suddenly Romeo says, “Hands, Coe! Let me see your hands!”

Benton laughs and raises his palms. “Here they are.”

Swingers in the summertime, Coco thinks.

“Sharon, let’s get out of here,” Romeo says.

Sharon sits bolt upright. Is this happening? It’s a bit abrupt, maybe even rude, but she’s not missing her chance. “Okay,” she says. One of the copper ladders is directly behind her, so it’s easy to make a quick escape.

“Stay!” Leslee cries out. “Sharon? Romeo? Please don’t leave yet!” She sounds a little unhinged, even for her.

“We should probably go too,” Eddie says. “Right, Grace?”

“Don’t be silly,” Leslee says. “The party is just getting started. Coco, what happened to the music?”

Coco is pretty sure Bull turned the music down when everyone went to get changed. She turns it back up—it’s “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” by the Beach Boys. Leslee says, “Something better!” Coco scans the playlist and settles on “I Want You Back” by the Jackson Five. She hands Romeo and Sharon towels and they disappear through the gate and into the dark night.

The party is just getting started, the Chief thinks, but he should leave. He’s only had two cocktails and yet he feels funny, loopy. He’s lost all track of time, doesn’t quite remember getting changed—but wait, yes, he does. Leslee lent him a pair of Bull’s swim trunks. Why did he agree to that? He has broken all kinds of rules tonight. He had one of the baked Alaskas and a brownie—no, two brownies. Leslee encouraged him to take a second, saying she made them herself. Phoebe and Addison are here, his oldest friends, and as long as they’re here, he’s fine, right? He likes the music; the water is delightful. He’ll stay another five minutes. Busy seems to be asking him a question about Kacy: “Did she mention meeting my daughter?”

Did she? Ed wonders. He’s about to tell Busy that he hasn’t talked to Kacy in a day or two. And if he dug in, he would admit he hasn’t talked to Kacy in any meaningful way all summer. He’s not sure why she really left San Francisco.

Ed is jolted from these thoughts by a hand on his leg. Whoa! Is he imagining this or is it a trick of the water jets, the bubbles? No, there are human fingers stroking his thigh. He turns to see Leslee with her head back, her eyes closed. Her arm closest to Ed is beneath the water’s roiling surface. Leslee is touching the Chief’s leg.

Is there a split second when the Chief thinks maybe he’ll just let this play out, ignore it or… even enjoy it?

Absolutely not. The Chief stands up, splashing Leslee in the process, but he doesn’t care, he’s leaving. He cheated on his diet tonight. But he hasn’t cheated on Andrea—in mind, body, or spirit—since the day he noticed her waiting in line to get her beach sticker. And he never will.

As he clambers out of the tub, Addison says, “Ed, where are you going?”

“Home,” Ed says. He takes a towel from Coco. God only knows what she thinks of him cozying up next to her boss in the hot tub; what was he thinking? Well, he wasn’t thinking, or not clearly. Something is wrong with him.

The brownies—the ones Leslee made herself. They must have been pot brownies, and that’s why Ed feels this way, so loose, discombobulated. He snatches up his clothes and goes. He doesn’t bother saying anything to Bull and hopes never to see the man again, but if Ed were to leave Bull with parting words, they would be Your wife needs help.

He climbs into the back of his car and changes into his clothes, which is a tricky business, as he’s soaking wet and still high. He finds his cell phone and calls Andrea.

“Please come get me,” he says. “I can’t drive.”

“You’re kidding,” Andrea says.

“Not kidding,” he says. “Bring Kacy with you, please, I need to get my car out of here.”

“On our way,” Andrea says. “I was wondering where you were. I worried maybe Leslee got her claws into you.”

It’s a little scary how on the nose she is. “No chance of that,” he says. “I’m all yours. Now please hurry.”

32. Thursday, August 22, 11:00 P.M.