The two women leaned in and kissed each other. I turned my head toward Gideon Bay to give them some privacy.

There were any number of different watercraft sharing the huge lake and I thought about Navarre’s boat, the So?adora, and I wondered what became of it. Did it crash and burn like its owner? Probably not. Probably it had been shrink-wrapped in blue polyethylene film and dry-docked until the next dreamer came along to claim it.

I suppose that’s what Navarre was—a dreamer. But his dream was rotten at its core. Navarre believed that if he stole enough and lied enough to enough people, if he pretended hard enough, he could become the man Riley Brodin wanted to marry. Only it wasn’t a man Riley had been searching for all her young life. It was love—pure and simple. And that’s something that cannot be stolen or bought or faked.

In the end, Navarre thought he had almost made his dream come true. He was mistaken. The truth was, he never had a chance.

I drank my margarita and watched the boats some more. I wished them all a safe harbor.


I wish to acknowledge my debt to India Cooper, Pat Donnelly, Tammi Fredrickson, Maggie Hood, Keith Kahla, Mark MacDonald, James McDonald, Anita Muldoon, Alison Picard, Dan Polachek, and Renée Valois.

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