Sunset Key Read Online Free PDF

real quick who your friends are. It’s not always your kin. Only real loyalty I’ve seen is from Manuel and my lawyers. Both of whom I pay. So what does that tell you? Two of my sons won’t speak to me. My youngest only communicates by email. I understand to a point, I guess. I’ve put them through a lot. Do you have children, Selena?”
    “I have a son,” Letty said before it even crossed her mind to lie.
    “Is he in your life?”
    “He’s not.”
    Through the underbrush, Letty caught a glimpse of house lights in the distance.
    Fitch said, “But is there anything he could do that would make you stop loving him?”
    “No.”
    “Anything that would make you willingly abandon him?”
    “Absolutely not.”
    “I suppose our kids don’t love us quite like we love them.”
    “I hope that’s not true.”
    “I’ve had my fair share of company over to the island. You’re different, Selena.”
    “I hope you mean that in a good way.”
    Fitch stopped. He turned and faced her and pulled her body into his.
    “I mean it in the best way.”
    It took her by surprise when he leaned down for a kiss.
    Not the kiss itself, but the pang of guilt that ripped through her like a razor-tipped arrow.

CHAPTER EIGHT

    T he house was a large gray box set on foundation piers. It had long eaves and wraparound decks on the first and second levels. Extensive latticework enclosed the space under the stairs. Letty spotted rafts and plastic sand-castle molds. Snorkeling gear. Life jackets. Beach toys that she imagined hadn’t been touched in years.
    She and Fitch rinsed the sand off their feet at the bottom of the stairs.
    Halfway up, Letty could already smell supper cooking.
    As they walked through the door, Fitch called out, “Smells wonderful, Angie!”
    Letty followed him into an open living space. Hardwood floors. Exposed timber beams high above. The walls covered in art deco. A giant marlin had been mounted over the fireplace. A live jazz album whispered in the background. There were candles everywhere. The bulbs in the track lighting shone down softer than starlight.
    “You have a lovely home, Johnny.”
    Letty spotted James and another man walking down a corridor. She and Fitch passed a spiral staircase. They arrived at a granite bar that ran the length of the gourmet kitchen. A stocky woman in a chef coat slid something into a double oven. She wiped her brow on her sleeve and came over.
    “Selena, meet Angie,” Fitch said.
    “Hello,” Letty said.
    “Angie is head chef at a Michelin-starred restaurant in Paris. I flew her over to prepare something special for tonight. How’s it coming, Angie?”
    “I can bring out starters whenever you’re ready.”
    Fitch glanced at Letty. “Hungry?”
    “Starving.”
    “We’re ready,” he said.
    “How about wine?”
    “Yes, I think we’d like to have some wine. You decanted everything I showed you?”
    “They’re in the cellar, ready to go. What would you like to start with?”
    “Bring out the nineteen-ninety Petrus, the ’eighty-two Château Lafite Rothschild and the ’forty-seven Latour a Pomerol.”
    “Quite a lineup,” Angie said.
    “So much good wine to drink, so little time. We’d like to taste everything side by side, so bring six glasses.”
    “You aren’t trying to get me drunk, are you?” Letty teased, bumping her shoulder into Fitch’s arm.
    “Now why would I need to do that?”
    They sat at an intimate table in a corner, surrounded by windows.
    In the candlelight, Fitch looked even younger.
    Letty dropped her handbag on the floor between her chair and the wall.
    Angie brought the wine in three trips, carrying the empty bottle in one hand and a crystal decanter in the other.
    All of the Bordeaux was astonishing. With wine like this in the world, Letty didn’t know how she could ever go back to seven-dollar bottles of Merlot from the supermarket.
    They started with a plate of plain white truffles.
    Then foie gras.
    Then scallops.
    Angie kept bringing