Prologue

"Unngh," I groan. The overhead lights were too bright; the whirling fans were too noisy; the furnace in the corner was spitting out hot air like it was trying to cook us; in short, life sucked, as usual.

"You finally coming back to the land of the living?" the bartender asks.

"Shut up, Larry," I growl whilst trying to pretend that I was sleeping.

"Alexandra, for the twelfth time, my name is Matt, or Matthew, if you think that you can manage to remember a big seven-letter word like that."

"Fuck off," I say, lifting my arm just enough to give him the one-fingered salute.

"Fine, fine. I'll just tell Cathy that you're her problem and she'll cut you off," he smugly retorts, before heading back to the kitchen.

"Fuck." With a sigh, I push myself up from the bar and spread my hands to steady myself as I sit on the bar stool.

The Surf's Up Bar and Grill was far from the nicest place that I've had drinks, but it was the best place in Sunset Point and that suited me just fine. More importantly, it was owned by Catharine Stanton, who just happened to be picking up my tab. Though, after giving it some thought, it was odd that she hadn't arrived while I was slumped over on the bar.

I stand and grab my jacket, which I definitely hadn't needed in the broiling inferno, from the back of the chair and head for the door. It's clear from the darkened windows peering out over the pebbled beach and the perpetual waves of the Pacific rolling in against the shore that night had fallen long ago. Throwing my jacket over one shoulder, I push out the door into the cold air.