Page 4 of Key West Promises

"Why not?"

"Because the woman on the porch looked…serious. Like she was running something important. Not like someone recommending breakfast spots to tourists."

Tess waved a hand dismissively, her bracelets jingling. "Maybe she was just bossing around the cleaning staff. Don't overthink it. We've got bigger things to worry about, like what we're going to wear tomorrow night."

But Leah couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Paradise Harbor House than Tess's casual explanation. And for the first time in weeks, she felt a spark of curiosity that had nothing to do with bills or finances.

Leah sat at the tiny kitchen table, her laptop open to a half-finished spreadsheet of their expenses. Tess was curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, scrolling through Instagram. The kitchen was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner.

Through the windows, Leah could hear the distant sounds of Duval Street coming alive for the night. Music drifted in from multiple directions. Soon, they'd be part of that nightly ritual, serving drinks to people living out their vacation fantasies while trying to keep their own dreams afloat.

"What are you looking at?" Leah asked, not looking up from the screen where numbers refused to add up to anything promising.

"Just ideas," Tess said, the sofa creaking as she shifted position. "You know, fun stuff we could do to spice up our social media. Maybe drum up some side income. Our follower count isn't terrible."

"Spice it up how?"

"Oh, you know," Tess said vaguely, her voice taking on that dreamy quality that usually preceded an expensive idea. "Something trendy. Maybe we make videos of us trying weird Key West foods or giving margarita tutorials. We could start a series called 'Sunset Sisters' Tips and Sips.'"

Leah gave her a sidelong glance. "You want to be influencers now?" She thought of their previous attempts at social media stardom, including the disastrous "Keys to Fashion" blog that had resulted in maxed-out credit cards and a closet full of tropical print dresses they'd never worn.

"Why not? Everyone else is doing it. And we've got personality. Plus, now that we'll be working at Margarita Max's, we'll have insider content. People love behind-the-scenes stuff."

"We've got bills." Leah highlighted another row in her spreadsheet, watching the numbers flash red. "And I'm not sure Connie will appreciate us turning her bar into content."

Tess waved a hand, nearly spilling her wine. "Details. Besides, this could be our breakthrough moment. Picture it: 'From Corporate Life to Island Time: Two Sisters' Journey to Paradise.' It's practically a ready-made reality show."

"More like a cautionary tale," Leah muttered, but she couldn't help smiling. Even their failures had style thanks to Tess.

"Anyway, I'm calling it a night. Big day tomorrow." Tess stood, stretching like a cat. "Should we practice making margaritas? I think we still have some tequila from the 'Cocktails and Crafts' phase."

"I think we should save the tequila for after our first shift," Leah said wisely. "Something tells me we're going to need it."

“By the way, tell me again what Kaitlyn said about coming here,” Tess asked.

Leah shrugged, “Not much, only that she needed a place to stay and that she couldn’t wait to see us. It’s not the best timing now that we’ve got jobs.”

“She’s young, Leah. She doesn’t need us hovering to have a good time in Key West. She’ll be fine.”

As Tess disappeared into her room, Leah stared at the spreadsheet, her mind drifting back to Paradise Harbor House. Something about that house seemed more like an important Key West establishment than just a bed and breakfast. The woman's purposeful movements, the neat rows of chairs, the sense of order amidst the chaos of Key West—it all meant something. She just wasn't sure what.

She typed in the name online and found more about the building.

Paradise Harbor House: Hope and Shelter for Southern Florida Families.Leah wondered why she didn’t notice the proper name when she saw the building earlier, but now, it made sense why it didn’t look like a bed and breakfast to her.

She closed the laptop and stood, stretching her stiff shoulders. The kitchen walls seemed to close in around her, yellow paint glowing softly in the evening light. Their "Life's Better in Flip Flops" sign hung slightly crooked above the sink, a testament to their early days of decorating with more enthusiasm than skill.

Maybe tomorrow would bring answers—or at least a distraction from the ever-present weight of their dwindling funds. Either way, it would be an adventure. And with Tess around, adventures were never in short supply. The trick was surviving them with their dignity—and their bank account—intact.

Through the window, she could see Ernest the rooster walking away, no doubt going off to his nesting spot for the night.

For a brief moment she thought about calling their older sisters, Chelsea and Gretchen. It pained her to think that she and Tess would have to go crawling back to their sisters on Captiva Island looking for help. But, in time, if things didn’t improve, they’d have little choice.

Tomorrow, they'd start their new jobs as bartenders, adding another chapter to their increasingly complicated Key West story. But tonight, in the quiet of their tiny kitchen, Leah allowed herself to feel hope once again and put any thought of failure out of her mind.

CHAPTER 3

The heat of the midday sun pressed down on the yellow bungalow as Leah wiped her hands on a dish towel, glancing at the clock for the third time in five minutes. Ernest strutted past the window, his feathers ruffled by the humid breeze, seemingly as anxious about their incoming guest as she was.

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