Chapter 3
Rebecca stared at the front door of the yacht lot from inside her car parked across the street near the sidewalk. She’d driven past three times before she'd had the courage to at least stop.
She’d seen a Maserati Quattroporte head in a half an hour ago. He or she hadn’t left yet, but that silver streak told her that someone at the marina had money.
Or were pretending, anyway--half of Miami lived in a shack but drove a car like they were rich.
The Maserati’s clipped engine exhaust purred in a way only that car did which made it unmistakable.
So he was either rich, which came with its own hazards, or a man about to destroy his credit and not the kind of guy she needed in her life.
This was stupid. Melissa and Destiny's challenge made no sense this morning as the hot sun beat
