For as long as you lived, you knew Rafe Cameron. The two of you were family friends, only for the mere fact that both of your fathers were business partners. Neither of you would say you were close, just tolerated one another. Word around the Outer Banks was that Rafe Cameron was bad news.

To celebrate a big leap in your father's company, he'd invited his friends and partners over for dinner. You sat at the long, baroque dining table, swirling liquor at the bottom of a glass that had been handed to you by one of your father's friends? Partners? Affairs? It was hard to tell by now.

As the group of older people chatted idly about God knows what, you slipped away onto the balcony to get some fresh air. Unknowingly, Rafe took notice, following you in order to also find an escape from such a dreary dinner.