Page 33 of The Romance Fiasco

Clapping my hand on his shoulder, I say, “You never cease to surprise me.”

His smile is funny like he isn’t sure whether to take a compliment or he has a secret.

I’m eager to hear more about the kidnapping and progress on Chip’s treasure hunt when I realize the dog slipped his leash.

“Boo!” I call for him.

CJ checks Beans & Books.

Royal frowns, not having noticed the dog.

I explain that Boo, elderly now, was Sean’s military dog.

“Oh,” he says, fully understanding the gravity of what it would mean if I lost the animal on my first watch.

We canvas the immediate area and when we still can’t locate Boo, we spread out. Royal heads toward the resort property. CJ stays close by and offers to check with the locals. I hop in my truck and head toward Quiet Cannon Beach and the cottages, aka the Junk, that I inherited from Chip.

Lally

CHAPTER 9

Rosalie and I walk along the beach together with our pack of dogs chasing and bounding in the waves.

“You missed a ton of drama and action. For starters, Isla, Robyn’s sister was kidnapped.” Rosalie goes on to tell me about a lousy ex-boyfriend in trouble with the law. “Don’t worry, our girl is safe and sound. The assailants are long gone. Peace has been restored. Hmm. What else?”

“That’s a lot.”

“Tell me about it. But her new beau swept in and saved the day. Also, there’s a rumor of a treasure hunt. There has been activity around the old resort on the other end of the island. But I don’t know much about that.”

“Then your name isn’t Rosalie.”

“It most certainly is.”

“Then you know every single detail about the supposed treasure hunt.”

She zips her lips. “I know a few, but I’m not at liberty to tell.”

“If I ply you with enough homemade popsicles, you’ll spill.”

“Only the mango ones. I’m addicted.”

I have several fruit trees and took up popsicle making. The dogs like them as a cool treat.

“So, you survived the wedding?” she asks, presumably because I haven’t said a word about it.

Don’t want to think about it, and not because of Ross and Romy. I nod and give a vague, “Mmhmm” in response.

“I’ll tell you about the treasure hunt for theCoroa de Lágrimas,” she says with perfect pronunciation, “if you give me wedding details.”

“The what? Never mind. There’s not much to say.”

“I’ll let you name your first-born Rosabella if you indulge me with tales of wedding woe,” she singsongs.

“Are you, Rosamarie, and Rosalina still competing to see who will become a mom first?”

“Do our names start with R-O-S? Are we all part of the Nosy Rosies? Of course.”

Rosalie has multiple relations with variations of her name including Rosamarie and Rosalina here in the Keys—it’s unspoken, but they run the Coconut Wireless, transmitting local news.

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