Page 41 of Smuggler’s Cove (Twin Lights #1)

But in spite of her efforts, Madison could not fall asleep.

Her thoughts were on overdrive, and she tossed and turned for hours, drifting off and then waking up.

It had been a roller-coaster kind of week, from marina to horrible marina, to dead body, to a handsome Coast Guard Captain, to marina owners, and now, summer renters, in New Jersey of all places.

Madison’s routine had become boring. There are just so many galas one can attend before they begin to blur together. With her white wardrobe, she looked the same from one gala to the next. This was a refreshing change of pace and change of wardrobe.

By five thirty, she decided there was no point in waiting for her alarm to go off.

Mario and Luigi had moved to the foot of the bed.

With all of Madison’s flipping from side to side, the two cats decided the edge was a safer bet.

They stretched and yawned and slowly followed Madison into the kitchen.

“I know, guys. It’s way too early for any of us, but here we are.”

She pushed the button on her coffee maker, opened a can of cat food, and switched on the small television in the kitchen area.

Nothing major in the news, thank goodness.

The past several years were fraught with lots of natural disasters, wars, epidemics, and a whole lot of political monkey business.

She was glad things had slowed to a dull roar.

She finished her coffee and said, “Okay, kids, I am going to get dressed and go to work. See if anything blew up in my absence yesterday.” Mario and Luigi looked up from their bowls, licked their lips, and continued to finish their breakfast.

Madison was behind her desk by seven o’clock.

There were a few messages on her desk. Art director needs to see you as soon as you get in.

“This can’t be good,” she muttered, dialed his extension, and left a voicemail.

This better not interrupt my weekend plans.

She snickered. Since when did she have weekend plans? Since yesterday. She grinned.

An hour later, the art director sashayed into Madison’s office. “Dearie, we have a problem with Vanessa.”

Madison suppressed a groan. Models were always a problem. “And what is Vanessa’s issue?”

“She changed her mind about a few photos in the article.”

Madison took a deep breath. “She signed off on them, and the book went to press yesterday.”

“She said she was aware of that, but she also said you could pull it until she made up her mind.”

Madison let out a big laugh. “That would be a big N.O. in capital letters.”

“I figured you would say that, but she harassed me all afternoon yesterday.” He eyed her carefully. “Speaking of yesterday, you never take an afternoon off. Everything okay?”

“Victor, you are absolutely correct on both fronts. Yes, I said ‘no,’ and yes, I took the afternoon off. I shall be taking more afternoons off beginning next month.”

Victor slid into one of the club chairs. “Do tell, darling.” He folded his arms and crossed his legs.

“Lincoln, Olivia, and I are renting a summer house.”

“Wonderful! Sag Harbor? East Hampton?”

“Neither. It is a little hamlet called Smuggler’s Cove on the Navesink.”

“I don’t think I ever heard of it.” Victor batted his eyelashes.

“Probably not. It is on the Jersey Shore.” Madison waited for a reaction.

Victor winced. “Really?”

“It is not what you think or have seen on MTV. It is quite lovely. Miles from amusement parks, boardwalks, and weekend rowdiness.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” he said. “The rowdiness, I mean.”

Madison began to explain. “Lincoln and I inherited a marina from our Uncle Kirby. It is in dire need of repair. We originally considered selling it right off the bat, but then decided to renovate it before the summer. A lot of people depend on it for their livelihoods, and we, in good conscience, could not let it sit idle for a season.”

Victor’s face beamed. “This sounds exciting. Will you invite me?”

“Only if you promise not to be rowdy.” Madison chuckled. “Now get out of my office. I have a temperamental model to speak to.”

“Oh, please, let me listen,” he said with a puppy-dog expression.

“As long as you promise to be quiet.”

Victor mimed turning a key in a lock in front of his lips.

Madison looked through her contacts list and dialed Vanessa’s number.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Madison said, rolling her eyes at Victor.

“I understand you are having second thoughts about the photos you approved.” Madison listened.

“Vanessa, we have been through this before. You signed off on them, and the book went to press. There is nothing either of us can do now.” Madison noted the words from the other end of the call.

She shook her head. “Of course you can complain to your agent. If you want to cancel all future jobs, I can ask our lawyer to draw up the paperwork.” She winked at Victor.

Madison nodded. “I thought so.” She paused.

“Yes, we will give you a few more days to review them the next time you do a shoot for us. ’Bye. ”

Madison looked at Victor. “And that, my dear boy, is how it is done.”

“You are a miracle worker. Actually, you could have worked a miracle by pulling the book.”

“Nuh-uh. We accommodated her once. The photos were outstanding, she had ample time to review them, and she approved them. Besides, I cannot allow prima donnas to run this magazine.”

“Let me rephrase that. You fixed a situation.”

“Yes, and an unreasonable one. Keeping people on their toes and sticking to the script is part of my job, although sometimes I think that is all I do.” She let out a sigh of resignation.

“Enough of her. Tell me more about this summer rental,” Victor prodded, and Madison described it as best she could without sounding capricious.

“We are going there on Saturday to do some inventory, and Lincoln will be working with one of the local residents. He and his wife own a food truck.”

“Food truck? You are getting down and dirty.”

Madison chuckled. “You should have seen me when my Jimmy Choos got caught in one of the planks. Broke both heels and did a face-plant. I was a slimy, bait-covered mess.”

“Oh, I would have paid to see that,” Victor howled.

“You tell anyone, and I will have to kill you.” Madison laughed. “Now get out of my office. Please.” She shooed him away.

“Okay, but I will hound you for an invitation.”

“Get out, Victor.” Madison grinned at him. He left her office laughing.

Madison crumpled the message and tossed it into the trash can. She was unusually calm. Had the conversation with Vanessa happened earlier in the week, she would have been ruffled. It was definitely a new chapter.