“I don’t think I’ve ever actually hated someone before,” Cleo confessed as she licked the salt off the rim of her margarita. She paused for a moment and thought about what she’d just said. “But God, I hate that man so much. The thought of seeing him again on Monday turns my stomach, and I’m so tempted to quit this job.”

“You can’t quit, hon.” Cal tut-tutted. “Who’ll pay the rent or buy the food? Until I find a job, you’re the only one keeping this boat ...