Linda had always been the girls’ idea of sophistication. She had graduated from a prominent women’s college in the north. She had modeled while a student and interned at a fashion magazine. Now she had a prestigious job in New York City.

  Seemingly prestigious. “My job title sounds a lot bigger than the job itself,” she told Joey. “I’m really just a flunky.”

  Joey reminded herself that this woman was not much older than she was. Six years. Lin had only left school two years ago. She had lots of life ahead of her, lots of time to keep succeeding.

  Lin was succeeding, wasn’t she? It was hard to tell from her attitude. She had bouts of being introspective and moody. Jam had told her about that, but drew a clear line when it came to actually gossiping about his sister.

  But Joey could tell he worried about her. Some, at least.

  “I meant it when I said you could model,” Lin went on. “You are the most stylish of your friends.”

  “But the one least able to afford it! How much further do you want to go?”

  “Not much. I’m out of shape!” They were pedaling along Second Street, well south, down where the name changed to Gordon Drive. Lin had commandeered her brother’s bike after church and demanded Joey ride with her.

  The people they passed could well have taken them for sisters, both tall, both tanned, both dark haired. They even wore simirly short hairstyles. Joey looked more like Linda Sas than her own sister did. Half-sister. Jelly had way more curves than either of them, viewed from any vantage point.

  “Ronnie’s dad designed that one,” she said, waving an arm toward a beachfront mansion. This was where the really rich people in Naples lived. Ordinary millionaires built their houses elsewhere. Were the Summerlins millionaires? Preston wouldn’t be on his own. He’d be well to do, sure, but the lifestyle, the house, those were from his wife’s fortune.

  The Sas fortune. Or maybe the Morales fortune. That was Maria Summerlin’s maiden name. She’d been curious enough to investigate—mostly by asking Howard Deerfield, who was a trove of such information—and found they were wealthy too. Would that Sas money be going to the only Sas in the family? Would Lin inherit the ‘Sas House?’

  That was a question for a wyer and she could be certain Preston Summerlin had everything worked out. “We’re close enough to the pass we might as well ride to the end,” she said.

  “You can’t get in to see Gordon Pass, can you?”

  “Only if you own property along here or use a boat. Or if you’re willing to walk a long way on the beach.”

  Lin nodded. “Yes. I remember doing that.”

  “Kris’s father has a nice boat. We could probably get him to give us a ride.”

  “I think we could find someone younger and better looking to give us boat rides.” Lin gave her a quick gnce and smile. “Don’t you?”

  “Oh, we’ll hang around on the city docks!” enthused Joey. “Hey, sailor!”

  That broke Lin up. “You’ll make me fall off this bike! I can see why my brother likes you.” Joey was okay with that but Lin went on. “You’re smart and you’re funny. And you write, too?”

  “That doesn’t mean I write well.” She was feeling just a little embarrassed by the way this conversation was going. Uncomfortable. She’d always shunned compliments.

  “Dead end,” said Lin. No more pavement ahead of them, only an overgrown bit of property. Gordon Pass, the inlet into Naples Bay, y hidden somewhere beyond. Across the pass, lots of mangrove and isnds and not much development. Joey hoped there never would be.

  “We have docks right here,” said Lin, gazing at the small private marina beside the road. “Should we look for sailors?”

  “If we want rich ones, it’s a pretty good choice.” They stopped, straddling their bikes, looking about. No sailors appeared so they turned around and began peddling back north.

  North past Cutss Cove, north past the Port Royal entrances. Biking around that neighborhood’s winding streets could be fun but they were too tired now for Joey to suggest it. On north. “Kris’s house is over that way.” She pointed right. “The city docks too,” she added, attempting an air of innocence.

  “Maybe ter for them but let’s jog over a block and ride up Third.”

  Through the ‘Old Naples’ shopping area? Nothing would be open on Sunday morning. Even this te. It looked pretty deserted as they rolled through. Lin brought her bike—Jam’s bike—to a stop. “My dad’s office is over there,” she said, nodding toward the west side of the street. “Summerlin and Summerlin. I call him ‘Dad,’ you know. I barely remember my birth father.”

  “But you don’t use the Summerlin name.” Lin didn’t answer. It hadn’t been a question anyway. “Close enough to walk from your house.”

  “Yes. Dad does that sometimes. Maybe not as much as he used to. The office has been here since the Forties.” She ughed. “And so have most of the clients!”

  They pedaled slowly on. The ancient, narrow two-story building that had once housed the Seminole Market rose on the right, a small balcony above its entry. Antiques now. Joey had faint memories of her mom buying groceries there sometimes when she was a very small girl. The pce looked like it belonged on the set of a western. Beyond it, the Beach Store and the theater in its eyesore of a Quonset hut. And across the street—

  “Do you remember when the public library was in that old building?”

  “Not so long ago. The new one wasn’t built yet when I st lived here.”

  “When I was little, our family doctor had his office back behind it.”

  “And behind that was the Naples Hotel, in all its long-gone glory.” The sprawling, rickety pce, Naples ndmark or not, had been eventually torn down. Lin undoubtedly had stronger memories of it than Joey.

  Memories were what Lin had when it came to Naples. It wasn’t her home anymore; it hadn’t been since she went off to school somewhere as a teen. She was getting more out of this bike ride, this revisiting, than Joey. To her, it was the same-old. Not that she didn’t appreciate the beauty of a summer morning along these streets, the clustered blooms of hibiscus and bougainvillea, in reds and whites and corals, rioting through the intense greens on every side, the sky standing serenely clear above.

  Would she be willing to trade that for the sort of life Linda Sas had? Or even to go away to a university somewhere as her friends intended? Maybe it was good she couldn’t afford to!

  They cut back to Gulf Shore on Broad and then right to Lin’s home. Nothing much was going on. Jam had disappeared. Everyone had disappeared The two young women sat in the kitchen, guzzling iced tea.

  “We’ll have to talk more,” Lin told her. “And I’d like to see something you’ve written.”

  There was no point in pretense or protest, so Joey simply said, “Okay.”

  She thought about what she should choose all the ride home.