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thing,” Tommy replied. He had retired from the New York Police Department after twenty years, taken his pension, and headed south. Rose liked Florida, and it had taken him less than a month to find the Key West job. He was forty-two, and he had just started building time on a second pension. When he was sixty-two, they’d be free as birds.
    “Let’s talk about that when we’ve found a place to live that we can afford and the furniture has arrived,” she said. “Then I’ll know if we did the right thing.”
    “But Rosie, you always loved Florida,” Tommy said.
    “This isn’t Florida, Tommy. This is like some kind of foreign country, some banana republic. It doesn’t have anything to do with Florida.”
    “It’s hot as hell and it’s humid and it’s got a beach. It’s Florida.”
    “If you say so.”
    He rolled over and dug his arm under her head. “You’re going to love it here, Rosie,” he said. “Just you wait.”
    “I’m waiting.”
    “Rosie?”
    “Yeah?”
    “You remember the couple who came in right after we sat down to dinner?”
    “You mean the couple in the white dress with the tits?”
    “That’s the one.”
    “What about them?”
    “The guy looked familiar, you know?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “You never saw him before?”
    “Nope.”
    “Not even in the papers or anything?”
    “Nope.”
    “You know what he looked like to me? He looked connected.”
    “Tommy, they don’t know from connected down here.”
    “You never know,” he said. “Say, did I wish you a happy birthday?”
    “As a matter of fact, you didn’t.”
    Tommy pulled her leg over his, rubbed his thigh against her crotch, and ran a hand up under her nightgown. “Happy birthday,” he said, tickling her ass.
    Rose sighed and kissed him. “Thank you, Tommy; it’s been a memorable evening.”
    “Memorable starts right now,” Tommy said.

4
    C huck had a light first week at the Olde Island Racquet Club. His only regulars were Harry and Clare Carras; they never missed, and they always came together. Until Saturday.
    Clare showed up at 11:00 A.M., alone.
    “Morning, Clare,” Chuck said. “Where’s Harry?”
    “In Miami, on business,” she replied. “What do you want to do today?”
    She looked at him for a moment. “Let’s work on my serve,” she said finally. “I’m too erratic.”
    Chuck nodded. “I’ve noticed, but you’ve never seemed interested in any instruction.”
    “I’m interested,” she said.
    Chuck grabbed a cart of practice balls and led her onto the court. “Let me see you hit a couple,” he said.
    Clare picked up a pair of balls and began serving.
    Chuck was content to just watch for a couple of minutes. She was wearing a tank top and very short shorts, and every time she reached up for a ball, her buns peeked at him from beneath the white material.
    She stopped. “Well?”
    “A couple of problems,” he said, “starting with your grip. You’re too far around on the racquet, so all you can hit is a flat serve. Bring your grip around a bit, like this, and you’ll get some spin on the ball, make it harder to return.”
    She tried a couple more serves. “Better,” she said. “What else?”
    “You’re dumping too many serves into the net; you have to watch the ball until the racquet strikes it. Keep your head up, and you’ll send more over the net.”
    He worked with her for a full hour, and by the end she had improved noticeably.
    “Thanks,” she said. “I enjoyed that.”
    “So did I,” he said.
    She put down her racquet and mopped her face with a towel. “Come to dinner tonight,” she said without preamble.
    Chuck took in a quick breath. “Love to,” he replied, trying to sound casual.
    She gave him the address. “Seven?”
    “Seven’s fine; can I bring some wine?”
    “A good red would be perfect.”
    “A very good red.”
    “See you at seven,” she said. “Don’t dress up.”
    “I won’t.”
    The house was only a block from Key West Bight, a big,