“You don’t want to have to take that ferry every day.”
No shit. Been there and done that.
“Would you be interested in my carriage house? It’s got a full apartment up above it. Nice deck overlooking the marsh. It’s a studio. Not sure how much room you’re looking for, but it’s a pretty nice apartment, if I do say so myself.”
“How much are you renting it for?”
“Oh sweetie, you wouldn’t need to pay me.”
“Alice, I wouldn’t move in unless you let me pay you.” A moocher, I am not.
“How does two hundred sound?”
“Like not nearly enough.”
“It’s one room. You should see it before you argue to pay me more.”
Intrigued, I followed her back to her dark green marsh-facing cottage just down the road. Her carriage house was a big one with double doors on the front and a narrow staircase along the side that led to the upstairs apartment. Many homes on the beach island featured an apartment above the golf cart garage as an added location for guests.
She pushed open the door, ushering me in. I spun around in the idyllic space, taking it in. The kitchen consisted of a refrigerator, a small stove, and a sink against the wall.
“It’s not much of a kitchen, but if you ever need more space, you’re welcome to use mine.”
“Oh, I don’t cook much. It’ll do fine for me.”
A narrow door in the corner opened into a nice sized bathroom with a shower. The furniture included a queen-size bed, a nightstand, and a round kitchen table with two chairs. The back wall consisted of three windows with a view onto the marsh, and a glass door that opened onto the back deck.
“Alice, if you’re sure about this, I think it’s perfect.”
“It sits here empty. There’s nothing to be unsure about.”
“Then I’ll take it. When can I move in?”
“As soon as you want. It’s yours. I’ll warn you, I’ve got a few cats roaming around. One or two might take to you.”
“I’ll take my chances.” I wiped my hand across the counter and discovered a light layer of dust. It needed a good wipe down, but the place was actually quite perfect. “How about I pay you two hundred a month, but you also lean on me to help you out when you need it? Maybe with some special projects you come up with?”
“I can do that. Oh, Poppy, this delights me. I’ll be so happy to have some company.”
My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out. Gabe’s name flashed. I declined the call.
Want to come over for dinner? Bring Gabe.
I sent a quick text back to Luna.
No time. Crazy day. Lunch tomorrow?
Between packing my stuff and cleaning my new space, my afternoon had flown by.
Gabe’s name flashed on my phone. Once again, I declined the call.
Then I sat down at my laptop to work. I scanned my email for important subject lines. One from Michael Browning caught my attention.
BUYER FOUND - CALL ME.
No fucking way.
I dialed his number. On the third ring, a youthful sounding woman answered.
“Can I speak to Mr. Browning?”
She asked me to hold, and my knee bounced impatiently as I waited. I didn’t wait long.
“Ms. Smith?”
“Yes?”
“I’m in between meetings, but I found an interested buyer. They need additional information. They’ve signed an NDA. I’m going to email over the information they’re requesting.”
“Who is it?”
“Paragon Media Publishing Enterprises. They’re out of Spain. They’re buying up subscribers and funneling them into their own channels. If a direct purchase doesn’t work out, they’re interested in paying a lower price to maintain your account and market to your base.”
I chewed on my nail as I considered my subscribers. I didn’t want to hose them. Of course, if they didn’t like the new content, they could unsubscribe.
“Ms. Smith? Are you there?”
“Yes. Send everything over. I’ll get back to you as quickly as I can.”
“I’ll include instructions on how to gather what they need.”
After hanging up on Mr. Browning, my phone rang yet again, flashing Luna’s name and a photo of her holding a surfboard.
“Hey, girl.”
“Hey. Is everything okay?”
“Why?” A part of me hoped Gabe was asking. That maybe he had taken note I hadn’t answered his calls since vacating his house.
“Well, Alice told Jasmine you’re moving into her carriage house. I think it’s great, by the way. Smart. But—”
“Did Gabe say anything?”
“No. Tate’s been in DC. He just got back this morning.”
“Oh.” A sinking feeling crushed my innards. An alert popped up on the top right corner of my screen announcing an email. “Well, you need to spend time with Tate. Let’s get together soon, though. You can come see my new digs. I have a killer marsh view.”
“Sounds good.”
I hung up on her and clicked on my newly arrived email. I skimmed along, scrolling through jibber-jabber nothing language, then set about slicing and dicing the data in my Excel sheets to best answer their questions.
Chapter 26
Gabe
“Gabriel, honey, where do you keep the tea?”
I glanced up from my phone, where I’d been waiting for a text to materialize. “Do you mean tea bags?”
“Yes, your tea. Do you have a cabinet with tea? Or a tea box?”
“I doubt it. I had someone set up the kitchen, but I don’t remember telling her I needed tea.” Because I don’t. “I could have some delivered. But it would take a few hours. Or you and Dad could go down to the market and pick up what you wanted?”
My dad set the paper down on the arm of his chair and stood. “I’ll drive you.”
Thank god.
As Dad slipped on his loafers by the front door, he asked over his shoulder, “Do you need anything?”
“Nope. I’m good.”
“Where’s the cart key?”
“In the ignition.”
He shook his head in disapproval but withheld the commentary. The air in the room cooled and the sky outside brightened the moment the door
