Thomas

I know what you're thinking and you're right; Sylvia probably had the magazine locked up safely as her insurance for blackmail. A piece of physical evidence like that could be photographed, color-copied; dozens of ways to make it available to the public. Or in this case, our fake families. I could see Daisy starting to hyperventilate, so I took her by the shoulders to calm her down.

"I left you and Sylvia with it yesterday. What do you remember?"

"Well . . ." Daisy replied, thinking. "I was trying to be all mortified and she told me it was good to express myself and once you and I worked things out our marriage would be fine. I got out of there before I started laughing and shit . . . I left it with her. How could I be so stupid!"

"She was counting on your distress," I pointed out patiently. "I can check her room again."

Daisy shot me a wry look. "It's probably in Sloane's room," she blurted, and paced away from me. "Ugh. I mean I don't care, per se, but I feel stupid for being careless."

"It happens," I tried to reassure her. "I need to check Sloane's room anyway and see if he's got other files. What's the schedule today?"

"Trust games," Daisy told me, and her knowing glance made me smirk since we'd already started those, in a way. "I think they'll be in that little conference room by the pool. Around ten or so."

"Good. We're going to be late," I told her. "How are you at standing guard?"

She caught on. "While you snoop? Oh I can do that, no problem."

-00-

Breaking into rooms at a resort is easier than you'd think. The majority of the newer ones have gone to the card key, which is great in most places, but Hawaii has some challenges, and a big one is power outages. When the power goes down in a hotel, all the doors unlock automatically—it's a legislated safety feature but nobody will tell you that, especially the front desk.

Ideally, what I needed was a power outage. One to happen about ten minutes into the trust session and long enough for me to toss Sloane's room without getting caught. Since I couldn't arrange for a lightning strike on the nearest transformer, I settled for breaking into the electrical maintenance room and throwing every circuit breaker I could find. A little sand in the old-fashioned keyhole would make it hard for the custodians to get in and buy a us little extra time as well.

Normally I try to avoid sabotage, but given our time frame and circumstances, it didn't weigh too heavily on my conscience. I managed it and hoofed it up to the tenth floor, slightly out of breath but focused. Daisy was already waiting there, smirking slightly when I reached her.

"Room ten twenty-four, across the hall from Sylvia," she murmured. "Go, go!"

I darted inside, glancing around in the gloom and got to work.

Searching a hotel room takes a certain kind of focus, and a lot of it centers on what you're looking for. People are predictable in their hiding places depending on what they're hiding which makes it easier for the someone doing the searching. Jewelry is usually somewhere near the bathroom, wallets and credit cards in the nightstand drawer. In my case, I suspected Sloane would keep his blackmail material either under the bed, or behind the dresser—easiest spots for flat folders and files. I found several under the right side of the bed, including the magazine, and then stuffed them into my shirt and slipped out again within a few minutes.

Daisy and I headed back up to our room and she slipped them into her tropical tote bag under a bunch of makeup and novels. "Thank you!" she sighed, clearly relieved. "Oh, boy, okay, now what?"

"Now we go play games," I told her, and we headed down to the conference room.

Daisy

I was so wound up about the magazine that I forgot about what trust games would entail. And that's freaky because all the work I'd done for Jane sort of hinged on them and used them regularly. Still, when we joined the group in the semi-darkness, Sylvia and Sloane looked pleased to see us.

"Took a little extra time this morning?" Sloane flashed his big white teeth at us. "I sense a breakthrough in the making!"

I managed to smile back, even though I wanted to slug the guy. "Oh yes, we, um, have done a lot of . . . communicating."

"Good to hear it!" Sylvia waved us over. The two other couples still looked annoyed with each other but made room for Thomas and me as we headed to one of the little inflatable loveseats by the window.
"Now for this exercise, we want you to cuddle with your partner," Sylvia explained. "Hugs and holding. Touch if you like, but appropriately, and see if you can sense what each of you are feeling. We lose touch when we stop touching. Remember what it was like when you were first together."

Oh. I stiffened for a second and tried not to panic. I mean, we already were sharing space and pretty naturally too, but actual cuddling? I wasn't sure if I was ready for that.

"Marsha," Magnum murmured. "Marsha, Marsha."

I snorted, well-aware of the Brady Bunch reference. He slipped his arm around me and we both dropped onto the inflatable, bouncing a little.

"Now get comfortable," Sloane circled the room. "It's all about your . . . re-pairing. Repairing your re-pairing," he used air quotes and I wanted to slug him all over again. Magnum must have sensed it because he tightened his grip, fractionally.

Warningly.

I sighed. "Fine," I muttered and put my arms around him as well, prepared to wait the game out.

Yeah, well let's say hugging a shower-clean warm, handsome man is not as easy to fake as it seems. I stayed tense for a few minutes, not sure if I could relax or not. It had been a long damned time since I'd been held by anyone.

"Remember, no talking or whispering," Sylvia called. "You are to sit together and experience each other."

Then I felt him drop his chin on the top of my head, sort of closing me in, and I just . . . slumped. Let go of the tension and rested against Magnum. Heard his breathing, breathed in his scent.

And I felt lighter than I had in ages.

After another minute, I realized he was softly . . . humming. I didn't think it was a tune, but it was calming, and I smiled a little, hearing it because it told me that he had some nurturing skill even if he didn't realize it.

Just as the game ended, the lights came on again, blinding us all a little, but we chuckled, as did the other couples. Maybe hugging in the dark worked, who knows. But after that, it was easier.

The next game was one where we told our partners a secret.

Something we hadn't told anyone else. Sylvia warned us not to make it a bombshell—more along the lines of some sad or private secret that would help build empathy with our partners. I wasn't sure what to tell Magnum—he already knew one of my biggest secrets.

But he went first, speaking in a near whisper even though we were pretty far away from anyone else in the conference room.

"I killed a man and . . . I don't regret it," came his soft and reluctant admission. "I will never regret it."

I looked in his eyes, which were clear and direct. Only the faintest flicker of sadness in them.

"Did it . . . right a wrong?"

He nodded.

I nodded back. "Then you have nothing to regret," I told Magnum, who blinked a little. We said nothing for a moment, and then I spoke up.

"I caught my dad having an affair," I told him. "Spotted the two of them naked in his study having sex. With another man."

"Oh," Magnum managed, looking slightly embarrassed.

I shrugged. "Debated on telling my mom, but I suspect she already knew, both about the partner and the gender. And saying anything wouldn't change anything. They may be my parents but I'm not sure they're my family."

I wasn't prepared for him to pull me close again, but I sure as hell didn't fight it, either.