If Tilda were being honest with herself, she would admit that Dunk’s fasting bothers her. First of all, it’s embarrassing that he can’t socialize over meals the way other people do. No wonder he’s essentially without friends and living like a hermit in the East End. Second, he makes Tilda feel bad when she eats. He stares at her with thinly veiled disgust when she bites into the Uncle Peep turkey sandwich from Sam and Jack’s or when she asks him to stop at Scoops so she can get a cup of their salted peanut butter ice cream. Tilda is naturally slender, so she can eat whatever she wants and not gain an ounce, but Dunk makes her feel gluttonous and weak.

Tilda thinks back on her brief time with Cash, remembering how excellent it was to have someone to eat with. She and Cash planned every meal like it was their last whether they were cooking at home or eating out. It was sensual, Tilda thinks. Sexy.

Dunk’s fasting isn’t the only thing that’s chafing at Tilda. There are also the accusations from Swan Seeley. Swan claims Dunk insulted her and touched her inappropriately during their marketing meeting, a meeting Tilda was supposed to attend until Dunk announced that he’d forgotten Olive’s lunch at home, which was all the way back in Hansen Bay. Unlike Dunk, Olive ate like royalty—prime rib, lamb chops, chicken Kiev. It was twisted. Dunk asked Tilda if she would take the skiff back to Cruz Bay and buy two pounds of ground beef at Starfish Market for Olive. Tilda agreed even though by all rights it should have been Tilda meeting with Swan while Dunk ran the stupid errand. This was Tilda’s resort—well, okay, her parents’ resort. Dunk owned the land, and he and Granger and Lauren had come to some kind of agreement about a partnership, but Tilda didn’t think that meant Dunk’s presence was more important than her own at a marketing meeting. Still, she went to the market because she had a difficult time saying no to Dunk. And that’s when the thing with Swan either happened or didn’t. According to Swan, Dunk had said he’d hired her because she was “hot,” “a dime” (Tilda abhors both of these terms), and then he’d touched Swan’s back, massaged her shoulders, and brushed up against her behind.

Tilda had shocked herself by coming to Dunk’s defense even though she knew that massaging a woman’s shoulders and brushing up against her behind were two of Dunk’s signature moves. He’d used both of these moves on Tilda! Tilda is a firm believer in the #MeToo movement; she always, always believes the woman—except, apparently, when the perpetrator is her own boyfriend. She was stunned by Swan’s accusations—and hurt, too, of course. Why would Dunk go after Swan when he had Tilda? After Swan was safely on the skiff heading back to Cruz Bay, Tilda marched into the trailer and said, “What just happened with Swan, Dunk?”

Dunk had been poring over the designs for the T-shirts. He didn’t even look up. “I was giving her a pat on the back, a good-on-ya, and she spit the dummy.”

“Spit the dummy” was something Dunk said all the time; it had something to do with a baby losing his pacifier. “So you weren’t inappropriate?” Tilda said.

Dunk inhaled on his vape pen—that thing drove Tilda crazy—and on the exhale said, “I was trying to give the woman a bloody compliment.” Then he held his arms open. “Come here, mate.” And like a fool, she went.

Swan e-mailed Granger and Lauren to tell them she didn’t feel comfortable working with Duncan or Tilda. She wanted to be paid for the time she’d spent on it so far, and thanks for the opportunity, but she was leaving the project. Tilda’s parents had called from their business trip in Cape Town to ask for a full explanation, and when Tilda told them what had purportedly happened, they were livid. Especially Lauren. She said, “I’m calling Swan now to get her back. Your father will have a chat with Dunk. Is he trying to get us hit with a lawsuit?”

Lauren did persuade Swan to come back, but Swan said she would report to Lauren only. Not Dunk. And not Tilda.

Where do things stand with the Lovango resort? Well, that’s the good news: Everything is moving swiftly and smoothly along with an anticipated opening date of April 1, right before Easter. The desalinization plant is nearly finished; the pool has been dug; the foundations of the cottages are in; the beach has been cleared. All the permitting is in place, and Granger and Lauren are in the process of buying boats that will transport guests from both Red Hook in St. Thomas and Cruz Bay in St. John to the resort. The restaurant is framed out, and only the week before, the granite was delivered for the bar. Lauren and Tilda FaceTime every day to discuss the design details—light fixtures, fabrics, paint colors. They both loved Swan’s ideas for merchandise.

The Lovango Resort and Beach Club. It’s going to be real. Tilda almost can’t believe it.

After Tilda quits her job at La Tapa, she’s on Lovango all the time. There’s a tiny cottage perched just above the beach that came with the sale of the island. It’s bare bones but livable, and Tilda spends a couple nights a week there so she doesn’t waste precious time in the mornings commuting from Peter Bay. She stays alone. Dunk prefers to sleep in his own bed, and so does Olive—fine, whatever. Tilda’s feelings toward Dunk have cooled considerably; she’s beginning to suspect that, behind the sexy accent and all the money, there’s just a little man, like the Wizard of Oz. For dinner, Tilda runs the skiff over to the Pizza Pi boat or grabs sushi from the bar at Caneel, and then she sits in the cottage with the air-conditioning cranked and stuffs her face without anyone judging her.

One day, she sees Treasure Island heading out of the harbor in the wrong direction—toward St. Thomas—and realizes the boat is probably going for its yearly maintenance. They don’t run charters in the autumn. Tilda wonders what Cash is doing over the break. She’d love to invite him to work on the resort. That had been the plan. Everyone is keen to have a robust water-sports program and a series of hikes across the island both as workouts and nature walks, and this was supposed to be Cash’s department—but Tilda blew that chance. She hasn’t even told her parents the truth. They know that Cash broke up with Tilda but they don’t know that Tilda and Dunk hooked up on St. Lucia right after their couples massage, which was before she talked to Cash, so, technically, she cheated. And Cash could tell, she knew he could, so the breakup was her fault. Tilda generally discusses everything with her mother, but her behavior was so shameful and so unlike her that she can’t share it with Lauren.

Tilda has just woken up in the Lovango cottage when her phone rings. Granger, calling from Dubai, where her parents are attending a conference this week.

“Inga is going to be a problem,” Granger says.

Tilda must still be asleep because she has no idea who Inga is. Maybe it’s the woman at the Health Department over in St. Thomas? “Why?” Tilda says.

“She’s picking up speed and strength, and right now she’s on a direct course toward St. Thomas, St. John, Tortola, Jost, Virgin Gorda, and, although they didn’t mention it by name, Lovango.”

“Dad,” Tilda says. “What are you talking about?”

“Inga,” Granger says. “The hurricane.”

Like a newborn with indecisive parents, a hurricane first forms without a name, as a collection of thunderstorms—so says Tilda’s favorite weatherman, Dougie Clarence of the CBS Evening News. Tilda is watching Dougie on her phone in bed—the cottage has no TV, and even if it did, there’s no cable—as he explains that Hurricane Inga started a few days earlier, August 27, as a Cape Verde hurricane, forming off the African continent and organizing near the Cape Verde Islands with a big push from the westerly trade winds, a term originating from the beneficial wind direction for early colonial traders. (Dougie always throws interesting factoids into his forecasts, which Tilda loves.) Inga has had a thousand miles of warm tropical waters to nourish her. In the past forty-eight hours, Dougie says, Inga’s maximum winds have increased from forty miles per hour to one hundred and fifteen.