Go to Diane's cottage and order room service.

You open Dunstan's door and don't see him right away. You're about to raise your voice when you hear a woman's voice in his bedroom.

"It broke!" she says. "You run off to the shower and don't tell me the fucking condom broke? I oughta rip off your balls!"

"But Nina, I didn't see..." Dunstan starts.

"My ass!" she says.

You tiptoe back out to Diane on the porch. You can hear yelling from inside. She raises her eyebrows.

"I think Dunstan is too busy to freshen your drink," you say. "Maybe I should walk you back to your place."

Diane grimaces at another yell from inside. "Sounds like he's bought himself a little drama," she says. "Let's go." She gets unsteadily to her feet, her injured toe swollen and throbbing.

"Let me get my jacket," you say. You duck into your room to get a warm outer layer in case you're back late.

Diane takes your hand and you walk her down the steps. Two minutes later, you flag down a pedicab driver in a white resort uniform and are on your way to her cottage in comfort, if not style.

Diane's cottage is surprisingly rustic. It sits by itself on the edge of a tree-shaded lagoon connected by a narrow channel to the sea. It's framed in big bamboo trunks with sort of a bamboo raft of a floor.

You help her up her steps. She trips on the top one with an "Ow!!" and you find yourself catching her. Not taking any more chances with the uneven footing on her bamboo-surfaced porch, you take her in your arms and carry her into the cottage. Inside is carpeted with thin woven mats and throw rugs.

"My hero," Diane says. "Can I buy you dinner or do you have plans?"

"No plans anymore," you say. "Sure, thanks," you say.

Diane orders room service. It's delectable grilled prawn skewers with all the fixings -- dipping sauces, dripping chunks of tomato, pineapple, and sweet Maui onion. You toast each other's health with silly umbrella rum drinks. Diane ordered a pitcher so you're not sure how many...

Sunset finds you on her porch watching the big orange ball slide into the sea.

"That was really tasty. But they used quite a lot of garlic in the sauce. I better stay downwind."

Diane is giggling. "God, I'm sorry," she says. "Wait, I ate it too! That just means I'm safe from some wahine coming and stealing you away."

"Wahine?" you ask.

"Girl," she says. She smooths down her rust-pink dress with the petroglyph pattern. "I don't want you to go."

You squint at the side seam again. "Are those two little stick people doing what I think they're doing?" you ask.

She laughs. "You noticed!" she says. "I had to have them take in the original dress, and I was able to steer the tailor a little. It feels so naughty wearing it sometimes."

The sun sinks bit by bit below the horizon. Twilight is short in the tropics, and before long you see the glimmer of the first stars in the deepening blue.

Diane's face goes blank. "I hate this time of day," she says. "It's when you should be getting together with the good people in your life, but it seems like I'm always alone. Even..." her voice trails off. Again, her profile reminds you of someone you must know. But who?

"Should I go?" you ask.

"Walk me inside and tuck me in?" she says.

You help her stand up. She favors her injured toe.

On impulse, you catch her up again and carry her over the threshold. This time you pay attention to how she feels. Though she's tall, she's no great burden, and she curls up in your arms and snuggles her head on your shoulder.

"Yes," she breathes. She catches your eyes with hers. "Yes."