While sipping on their wine and contemplating what brought them there, entered a striking man through the sliding glass door from the pool's deck, allowing the cool island breeze to fill the room.

"Hello, I'm Max," his light blonde, almost platinum, hair still damp. You could see a fine physique underneath his robe. "I am your host and imagine Celeste has been making you feel at ease."

Upon his entrance, Eve immediately dropped her glass as she knew Max from her past though she could not immediately remember the connection.

The glass shattered into little pieces on the tile floor in the cocktail area next to where the dining room table was set up.

Everyone seemed fidgety and immediately turned to Eve. "Everything ok, Eve?" asked Max.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that. Just an untimely case of butter fingers," She tried to down play the whole thing. Noah, standing nearby, patted Eve's arm to comfort her.

Eve, who looked like a bombshell if she shed the librarian guise with her proper bun and plain dress. She radiated intelligence and no nonsense with her perfect posture, rimmed glasses and serious expression.

"That's ok," said Max. "I'm sure as details emerge about what we know about each other and me, surprising things will surface," he paused for about 20 seconds. It seemed no one inhaled during this time.

"Lighten up everybody. Just trying to keep you on your toes." He chuckled, yet his piercing blue eyes looking deep into everyone as he surveyed the room conflicted with his light-hearted tone. He flashed a smile showing teeth that were as white as pearls and required more maintenance than Crest White Strips could ever provide.

Max was pretty much physical perfection and he knew it. His charisma and mystique made him attractive to men and women alike.

"Well, we shouldn't keep Chef Moreau waiting. He has prepared a delicious meal for us. The table is set. Look for your place card. You'll notice all partners have been separated. No whispering at this table." Celeste left the room to let the Chef know the guests were ready.

The Chef came in to serve the first course of gazpacho soup and Max decided to brag about Moreau. "Chef Moreau was educated at the finest culinary school in the world, Culinary Institute of America, and has been with me exclusively for the past 15 years."

Moreau was pleasant as he grinned and made pleasantries with the guests, but clearly took his cooking very seriously. Gazpacho, lemon grilled chicken with herbs, a side of Mediterranean quinoa salad and peach sorbet for dessert. Celeste brought out two pitchers of red sangria to pair with the meal.

"In vino veritas, right Max?" said Peter, the older distinguished gentleman, raising his glass.

"Cheers to that!" Everyone clinked glasses. Cassidy shot a nervous look towards Larry, Lori's husband. He returned with intense but brief eye contact.

As Moreau walked back towards the kitchen, he felt compelled to look over his shoulder and when he did he saw Mark, Olivia's husband, slide his hand on Lori's knee.

Max also spotted Mark's hand on Lori's knee and boldly said, "Mark, you may want to use both hands to cut your chicken when it arrives."

"Of course," he shot back nervously, his face as flush as a Macintosh. "I had just dropped a piece of bread in my napkin. This soup is really delicious," he said feigning authenticity and trying to change the subject.

Thankfully for Mark, Chef Moreau came out with a tray of the lemon chicken dishes, distracting everyone from Max's comment.

Only one can imagine what happens next during the second course....

Author Notes

Hope you enjoy this chapter and see the many directions this can go, starting with Ulla and Chapter 3.