“Okay?” he said.

“Okay,” she said.

The next group in was Nightbill, a little more than two weeks hence. It was some kind of accounting or payroll firm from Kansas City. The contact person was a man named Bugsy Greer.

Bugsy? Eddie thought. He had checked the guy’s photo out online. Quite frankly, he looked like someone from a horror show. He was completely bald, and there was something wrong with his teeth. Eddie had wondered which of the girls would have to have sex with Bugsy Greer, but then he shuddered and tried to think of something pleasant—hot-air balloons, Christmas trees.

He was very nervous as he prepared to make the phone call. He left the office with his cell phone and loitered at the edge of the Nantucket Yacht Club parking lot. It was now summer, which meant that Eddie had to be more careful, or the attendant stationed at the guardhouse would tell Eddie to scram, or one of the old ladies carrying a Nantucket lightship basket would scold him.

He lingered on the far side of a brand-new Range Rover. He wished he’d listened more closely to Barbie when she was propositioning these groups.

Bugsy answered, “Hello?”

Eddie spoke so quickly, he tripped over his words. Hey, there, Bugsy, this is Eddie Pancik, your real-estate agent on Nantucket? Excited about coming to the island? Need any dinner reservations? Pearl? Cru? Ventuno?

And then Eddie said: Listen, here’s something for on the down low. We have a cleaning crew of five Russian girls who do more than just clean.

“Really?” Bugsy said, his voice perking up.

“Really,” Eddie said. “They can come back at night, if you’d like.”

“We would like,” Bugsy said.

“Would you?” Eddie said. He took some steady breaths. “You understand me, then?”

“I think so, yes,” Bugsy said. “How much?”

“Twelve thousand a night,” Eddie said. He felt both bad and good about raising the price. He was going to keep the extra two grand for himself.

Sleeping with Glenn Daley!

“That’s fine,” Bugsy said.

“Will you pay night by night or all at once?” Eddie asked.

“Which do you prefer?”

“All at once,” Eddie said. “If you can make that happen, Bugsy?”

“I can make that happen,” Bugsy said. “Bugsy” was obviously some kind of nickname, and Eddie felt ridiculous using it. “I can make anything happen.”

“I like the confidence of that statement,” Eddie said.

A few days later, when Eddie checked his voice mail, there was a message from Madeline. He thought maybe she was calling to express her dismay or anger over Allegra’s behavior, and Eddie was ready to list all the ways he’d punished his daughter: He’d taken away her phone, and she was grounded until further notice. No beach with friends, no parties, and she was never to see the Coburn kid again.

But it turned out that Madeline wasn’t calling about Allegra.

The message said, I’ve called Layton Gray, Eddie.

Layton Gray was the Llewellyns’ attorney, the very same attorney Eddie himself had recommended back when they needed someone to do their real-estate closing. He’s going to take action against you unless you pay us back by the end of next week. I’m being nice here, Eddie. You’ve got ten days. Then she hung up.

“What?” Eddie said. “No good-bye?”

He was selling numbers 9 and 11 to Glenn Daley, and he would use some of the cash to pay Madeline and Trevor back. He would get out from under his debt, and he would live his life on the straight and narrow—as soon as he could.

He called home to check in with Grace and the girls. How long had it been since he’d called just because? He would do it more often, he decided. He would do it every day.

Grace said, “Hi, there.” She sounded perplexed. “Everything okay?”

“Just checking in!” Eddie said. “How’s everything there? Are the girls home?”

“Yes,” Grace said. “They’re both here. Neither of them is working today, so the three of us are going to the Galley for lunch.”

Eddie wondered if “grounding” Allegra could reasonably mean taking her to the Galley for lunch. But he knew how much Grace wanted special together times with the twins, and that would never happen unless Allegra were grounded—sad fact. Eddie himself loved the Galley for lunch or sunset cocktails, although he hadn’t gone yet this summer. It was pricey. He wished Grace were tougher and had suggested Allegra take over mowing the lawn.

“Allegra seems… different,” Grace said.

“In a good way or a bad way?” Eddie asked.

“Good way?” Grace said. “Like she might actually be contrite?”

“Yeah, well, she’d better be,” Eddie said. He needed to hang up before his good mood evaporated completely. “Glad to hear things are headed in that direction. Have fun at lunch!”

“We will,” Grace said.

HOPE

In a mere four days, Allegra’s world had imploded like a dying star.

On the morning after, Hope had relented and allowed Allegra to use her phone to text Brick and Hollis and her other friends—but the results weren’t pretty. Brick told her to never contact him again. He said she had made a joke of him. He had loved her as well as he knew how, but clearly it wasn’t enough love or the right kind of love, which was fine, but he wasn’t going to waste another second on her. Good-bye and good luck, he said.