"Look, we're both adults," Caylee began, as they cruised along a section of the coastal highway that was surprisingly undeveloped.

Tito glanced over at her. "This should be interesting."

The man was beyond frustrating.

Caylee tried again. "All I'm saying is, it was pretty obvious from that kiss what we both want."

"We don't always get what we want." Tito paused. "At least not all of us."

She felt the heat on the back of her neck. "If by that you're implying that I'm some sort of pampered princess who always gets what she wants . . ."

Tito grinned but kept his eyes on the road. "Aren't you?"

"No," Caylee said, shortly. "I'm not." She'd spent her whole life proving herself to people who refused to take her seriously. If Tito looked at her and only saw her privilege, then maybe she wouldn't sleep with him after all. But dammit, she'd thought he was different.

Then he glanced over again. "Hey."

"What?"

She used the side of her hand to brush away a bit of moisture at the corner of her eye and turned her head to look away from Tito and the water view and instead toward a colorful scattering of breach grasses and flowers that must be natural to the area, since they were wild and untended by the side of the road.

"I upset you." His voice was gentle, which only stiffened her resolve.

"Don't be ridiculous. The wind just blew something into my eye, that's all."

Tito didn't say anything, just kept driving. Caylee settled back into her seat, then leaned forward in surprise when, a few miles later he pulled into a parking area on the other side of the road. The ocean was blocked from their view now by tall grasses on what she assumed were sand dunes.

"What are you doing?" She watched him as he got out of the car and headed for a few wooden steps that led to a boardwalk elevated over the sand.

"Come on." He looked back over his shoulder. "Or are you waiting for me to open your door for you?"

"I can open my own damn door." She got out and almost slammed it but reconsidered. The car was a classic after all. She was annoyed with Tito. It wasn't Sally's fault.

She followed him up the few steps to the wooden walkway, then caught her breath as she stared out at the expanse of tall grass that gave way to a wide sandy beach and, behind it, the Atlantic Ocean, waves cresting and spilling onto the shoreline, then receding again. Tall white birds with yellow legs and long bills walked along the edge of the water, digging for what she assumed were small shellfish or clams, while lines of smaller brown birds with white bellies scurried toward the waves and then back again, poking their bills in the wet sand.

"Snowy egrets and sandpipers. Looking for coquina clams," Tito explained.

"How do you know so much about Florida wildlife?" Caylee asked, remembering how he'd pointed out the birds and reptiles at the wetlands parks, and forgetting for the moment that she was annoyed with him.

"I live here," he said simply, and when she gave him a skeptical look, added, "plus I had a lot of free time to spend in the prison library."

"You're a Renaissance man."

He laughed. "No, just a guy who knows a little bit about everything."

She shrugged. "Like I said."

They took off their shoes and left them on the boardwalk then rolled their pant legs up slightly, stepped down onto the sand and strolled toward the water, a few of the birds scattering at their approach while others seemed too intent on a meal to notice.

As yet another wave slid back to the sea, Tito reached down and picked up a perfectly shaped light pink shell just the size of her little fingernail. The hinge was perfectly intact. He studied it for a moment in the palm of his hand, and then gave it to her. 

"That's a coquina shell," he explained. 

She looked at the shiny open shell. "It's lovely. It makes me think there ought to be a tiny pearl inside." 

"That would have to be a pretty small pearl," Tito said, and she laughed. But instead of tossing the tiny shell back into the water, she put it in the pocket of her shirt, careful not to crush it. 

Tito looked out over the horizon. "Sometime I'll take you farther north. There's an area between Vero Beach and Melbourne where the sea turtles return every year to lay their eggs. It's illegal to disturb them, but there are late night tours you can go on with experienced guides. Once the turtle actually starts laying her eggs, you can get pretty close and watch until she covers them up and goes back into the sea."

"I think I'd like that," Caylee said, surprised to realize she actually would. Her mind had been more focused on her physical attraction to Tito. But suddenly, the idea of sitting in the dark on the sand beside him watching new life begin was very appealing.

"My stepfather took us once, when Joey was just a toddler. He probably doesn't even remember. I didn't want to go. I thought it was corny. But I was always glad he made me come along."

When he reached for her hand as they walked the shoreline, close enough for the foamy water to spill over their feet and then back again, the gesture was so natural she sighed. It was hard to stay out of sorts on such a gorgeous day at a place like this. There was a light, salty breeze moving through the air, and it felt good on her skin. For awhile they just walked, watching the little clams burrow back into the sand leaving tiny holes that soon vanished as each wave receded, and the birds hurrying to catch them before they disappeared.

"I'm sorry I upset you earlier," Tito said, breaking the silence. "I don't know you very well. Yet."

The yet gave her a little flutter in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to get to know him well. In a number of different ways.

"It's fine. I overreacted," Caylee conceded. "I'm used to people not taking me seriously. And having to prove them wrong."

"How do you mean?"

"People don't see me as someone who is passionate about her career, and willing to work hard to achieve it. My own mother assumed I was only going to law school to have clever conversations with potential candidates for marriage."

Tito stopped and turned her to face him, putting his hands on her shoulders. "You're joking."

"I wish. But that's the least of it. Even when I told my own family how concerned I was about a potentially dangerous situation, no one took it seriously."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

No. She definitely didn't want to go there. She'd been relaxed, strolling along the shoreline with him, and it had just slipped out. It was in the past, anyway. And what did it matter now that she was here in Miami?

"It's nothing," she said, and tried to turn away but Tito didn't release her. Instead his grip on her shoulders tightened.

"Caylee, are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No. Of course not." Not anymore. Not now that she had left her job and moved all the way to Miami to start a new life. That kind of trouble wouldn't follow her here. "It's nothing, really," she assured him, putting a smile on her face. "And I really don't want to talk about it. Can we just enjoy the rest of our day?"

He stared at her a few moments as if waiting for her to say more, then dropped his hands. "Just so you know, you can tell me anything. And I will always take you seriously."

She thought to herself with a bit of surprise that he probably actually would.

* * *

Tito stopped by the office Monday morning to grab his laptop, which held all the information anyone could possibly want to know about OFC. He still had no idea what agenda the mysterious donor had for requesting this meeting, but he believed in being prepared.

Bailey was already in her office when he arrived, and their receptionist and all-around administrative miracle-worker Ella was at her desk.

Ella glanced at the clock on the wall. "Aren't you supposed to be on your way to meet with that lawyer?"

"I have some time."

"Hey," Bailey said, stepping out of her office. "Don't forget to mention those trips I want to do for the kids if this mystery donor is looking for things to spend money on."

He turned to face Bailey. "How could I forget? You only bring it up at least five times a day."

"It's a good idea," she said, tossing her chin-length blond hair and grinning at him before walking into the little kitchenette and break room area to refill her coffee cup.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to lead with the fact that you want to take a group of kids who've been arrested for everything from vandalism to drugs to stealing cars, put them on a plane, and head for Paris."

"Laugh all you want," Bailey retorted, "but I've got big plans for OFC."

She did have big plans, and she really cared about the kids in the program. Hiring her, Tito knew, was one of the best decisions he'd ever made. 

"Let's just take things one step at a time. And step one is finding out who this anonymous donor is, and what they want. Once I'm sure this request for a meeting isn't about withdrawing their support - or trying to change something about our core mission - then we can move on to your wish list. Not a tour through Europe," he hastened to add when Bailey turned back and almost sloshed her coffee onto the floor, a huge grin on her face. "I'm thinking about maybe - maybe - a trip to New York City to see a Broadway show, not a stroll past the Eiffel Tower."

"It's a start," Bailey quipped, and continued on her coffee mission.

Tito shook his head, then followed her into the small area.

"Hey, you've gotten pretty close to Jack's cousin Caylee, haven't you?"

"She's not actually his cousin, you know. But yes. Why?"

"Is she in some kind of trouble?"

Bailey frowned. "Not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"It's probably nothing. We were walking on the breach yesterday and she said something about some issue she had that her family wasn't taking seriously, but when I pressed her she said it was nothing."

"Wait a minute. What were you doing walking on the beach with Caylee?"

Tito watched her face light up with interest, and wondered it he should have just kept his mouth shut.

"It's called a date. Surely you remember what those are. It's only been a few months since you were single."

"Ha ha. I know what a date is. What I didn't know was that you were dating Caylee. This is great!"

"I'm not dating Caylee. It was one date. Don't get carried away."

But when Bailey brushed past him on her way back to her office she was humming a little tune, and he had to smile. If he had anything to do with it, he would be dating Caylee. And he was going to get to the bottom of whatever troubling thing she had let him glimpse for a moment before shutting the conversation down. He hadn't liked the worried look that had come into her eyes, even though it was fleeting. And he wanted to know who or what had put that look there.

It wasn't until he was halfway to the lawyer's office that he was able to pry his thoughts away form Caylee and focus on the upcoming meeting.

At least his curiosity was about to be satisfied.

He walked across the marble floor of the office tower lobby and took the elevator to the 42nd floor. He glanced at the glass-walled conference room half expecting the donor and the lawyer for the Trust to be sitting there waiting for him. But the room was empty.

Whereas the office at the firm owned by Sam, Ritchie and Jack was a modern design that signaled a commitment to the latest technology and efficiency, the lobby area of this law firm was a study in quiet opulence. The decor was conservative, the art tasteful. Everything about the hushed atmosphere was designed to appeal to old money clients who appreciated tradition. The clients - and their lawyers, for that matter - probably went back for generations doing business together. It made Tito wonder just what the extent was of the Trust that had made donations to OFC, and how many other charitable organizations it quietly supported.

The receptionist behind a long counter of rich mahogany looked up with a welcoming smile. "Good morning. Can I help you?"

"Yes. I'm Tito Martinez. I have an appointment with Miles Fortner."

"Yes, Mr. Martinez. Mr. Fortner is expecting you. If you'll just have a seat over there," she said, gesturing toward a grouping of upholstered chairs and a small couch that looked more like what you would find in the parlor of a wealthy home than an office lobby, "I'll let him know you're here."

Tito took a seat in a high-backed chair that was designed more for aesthetics than comfort, and wondered if it was actually an antique or a replica. And whether the museum-quality paintings on the wall were reproductions or the real thing. He imagined the clients of a firm like this would actually know the difference.

He didn't have long to speculate, however, as a stocky and immaculately groomed man came down the hallway and headed toward him. The man had graying hair at the temples, and wore glasses with wire frames. His suit fit like it had been tailored specifically for him and was probably worth more than everything in Tito's closet combined. Tito was glad he'd chosen to wear one himself today, even if it was off-the-rack from a discount warehouse of men's clothing.

Tito stood to greet him. The man introduced himself and shook Tito's hand with a firm grip, telling him how pleased he was to finally meet Tito in person.

"Well," Miles Fortner said, "shall we go then?"

"I'm sorry, I assumed your client was joining us here. That's not the plan?"

Fortner looked momentarily taken aback.

"Oh, didn't I mention it? We're not meeting here. We'll be driving out to my client's estate for our meeting."

No, he hadn't mentioned it, and Tito suspected the omission was deliberate. But to Fortner he just said, "That's not a problem. But isn't it rather unusual?"

Fortner smiled tightly. "Unusual? Not really. Not for clients at this level," he explained, with the clear implication that his clients were just too important and wealthy to be required to actually come into their lawyer's office to meet. "We'll take my car," he added. "It's parked here in the building."

Tito walked with him into the elevator, then across the skybridge to the adjacent parking garage.

"Can you at least tell me the name of the person we're meeting with?" Tito asked, as they got into the conservative black Mercedes parked in a designated spot with Fortner's name on it on the lobby level of the parking garage, close to the elevator. He didn't have any problem meeting elsewhere, but the whole situation was starting to feel a little cloak and daggerish, what with the anonymity and the off-site meeting.

Fortner paused, and for the first time his expression looked uncomfortable.

"I think my client would prefer that I didn't."

Tito leaned back in his seat, his own face betraying none of his thoughts. In prison, you learned to keep your emotions guarded. But his thoughts were racing.

Who the hell am I dealing with? 

Author's Note:  Readers, I'm sorry I was late posting this update. For some reason, this chapter was really hard to write. On top of that, I had a stressful week. But I'm happy with how this chapter turned out, and I hope you like the way Tito and Caylee's relationship is developing. I promise to be on time with next Monday's update!