“That doesn’t leave me much, does it?” With a laugh, Mrs. Grady gave her a last farewell hug, and muttered in her ear. “Don’t be such a good girl. Have fun.”

“Fun is the first item on my list.”

Laurel climbed in the car as Mrs. Grady passed the last bag of road food to Emma, as more hugs were exchanged. Laurel indulged in a quick bounce on the seat when Parker got behind the wheel.

“This is it.”

“This, my friend, is it.” Parker started the car, engaged the GPS. “Roll ’em out.”

Laurel let out a yee-haw as they headed up the drive. “I can already feel the sand in my shoes, the salty breeze in my hair. You must be dying to get there.You own the place, and you haven’t seen it yet.”

“Co-own. I’ve seen plenty of pictures, from the Realtor and some that Del took.”

“I can’t believe you, of all people, furnished the place by phone and online.”

“No other way to do it. No time to go there. Anyway, it’s an efficient way to shop, especially for what’s primarily an investment. We bought some of the furnishings already in place as the previous owners didn’t want to move most of it. Lots of fussy stuff to see to yet. It’ll be fun to pick up little things, or decide to have something repainted.”

“What do you want to do, first thing, when you wake up tomorrow morning?”

“Try out the gym, then take a walk on the beach with a huge cup of coffee. Or, depending, skip the gym for a run on the beach. Run. On.The. Beach.”

“And without your BlackBerry.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far. I could go into withdrawal. What about you? First thing.”

“That’s the beauty. I don’t know. I have no idea what I want to do, or what I will do. Mac will start taking pictures. Emma’s going to plop herself on the beach and stare at the water while she makes happy noises. And you, admit it, will make sure to check your laptop and phone for messages right after the workout and the walk. Or after the run.”

Parker lifted her shoulders then dropped them. “Probably, but then I plan to do a lot of staring and making happy noises.”

“And start a list of what you want to change or add to the house.”

“We all vacate in our own way.”

“Yeah, we do. And thanks in advance.”

“For what?”

“For the two weeks in a beach house in Southampton. Yes, partners and pals, but you could’ve said you wanted a couple weeks to yourself.”

“What would I do without you?”

“There’s a question we’ve never had to answer.” She opened the bag, took out the bottled water. She uncapped them both, set Parker’s in the drink cup, tapped it with her bottle. “To us. Beach girls of Southampton.”

“Absolutely.”

“Tunes?”

“Unquestionably.”

Laurel switched on the radio.

Everything changed when they cut east of New York and started across the skinny island. She lowered the window, leaned out. “I think I can smell the water. Sort of.”

“More than halfway there.” Parker bit into an apple slice. “You should call Del, give him our ETA.”

“Good idea, because I’m going to be starving when we finally get there, and jonesing for a margarita. Should I tell him to fire up the grill? Is there a grill?”

“Del co-owns the house, Laurel.”

“Of course there’s a grill. Burgers, chicken, or steak?”

“You know what, first night of vacation. A really big, fat steak.”

“I’ll put in the order.” She took out her phone, hit Del’s number.

“Hi. Where are you?”

She looked at the GPS screen, gave him their location.

“Hit some traffic?”

“No, work. We put on such a good event, they added an hour. But we’re making good time. Parker made Carter drive in the middle so he’s squeezed between us and Jack and has to keep up. We’d like to place an order for many frozen margaritas and big fat steaks.”

“We’re happy to serve you. Hey, listen.”

In a moment she heard the whooshing sound. “It’s the ocean! Parker, listen.” She held the phone to her friend’s ear. “It’s our ocean. Are you on the beach?” she demanded when she had Del back.

“Just walked down.”

“Have fun, but not too much fun until we get there.”

“I’ll pace myself. Oh, hey, do you know if Mal got off?”

“No. Is he coming in tonight?”

“He wasn’t sure. I’ll give him a call. See you soon.”

“Can’t wait.” She closed the phone. “Mal might be coming in tonight.”

“Lovely.”

“He’s okay, Parker.”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t. I haven’t adjusted to the change in our group dynamic.”

“Plus, he’s got that kind of look in his eye that says: How about it, sister?”

“Yes!” Parker took her hand off the wheel to point at Laurel. “Exactly. I don’t like it. It’s a kind of sexual swagger.”

“Yeah, but it’s honest. Remember that guy you went out with a couple times. Geoffrey—spelled the Brit way—wine baron or something.”

“He had an interest in a few vineyards.”

“And spoke fluent French and Italian, knew about cinema as opposed to movies, skied in San Moritz. He turned out to be a complete sleaze, total sexist ass**le under all that culture and polish.”

“God, he really did.” The memory had Parker shaking her head and sighing. “I can usually spot them, but he slipped right under the radar. Look.”

Laurel turned her head and got the first glimpse of the ocean. “There it is,” she murmured. “It’s real. We’re so damn lucky, Parker.”

She thought the same thing again, with a whip of stupefaction when she got her first glimpse of the house.

“That?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“That’s your beach house? It’s a beach mansion, Parker.”

“It’s big, but there are a lot of us.”

“It’s gorgeous. It looks like it’s been there forever, perfect for the spot, and still kinda sleek and new.”