Sweet Caroline(50)
And Mitch singing at the Café? Brilliant. By the way, what is he doing in town? I e-mailed the story links to Carlos. Your stock soared with him. I swear, he drooled. He loves that you’re saving an old Café, helping people keep their jobs. If you’re loyal to the Café, you’d be loyal to him.
If you need $25K, go to the bank. It’s a business loan. No biggie.
Please tell Elle and Jess I love them. I owe them both e-mails.
“Here’s looking at you, kid.”
Love, Haz
CFO, SRG International, Barcelona
Kirk calls Wednesday. “How’s it going?”
“Besides the bathroom plumbing being ripped out as we speak? Peachy. What’s up?”
“Do you know someone named Elle?”
“Yeah, I might. Why?”
“It’s weird, but the other night I had this garbled voice mail, and all I could make out was her name, yours, and a wedding?” His voice goes up on the end.
What is wrong with El? Did she completely abandon cool when she launched Operation Wedding Day?
“I’ll talk to her.”
Confiding she’s on a manhunt would be wrong, right?
“Thanks. Also, I wanted to let you know Roland and Dale spent a couple of days down at the Water Festival with their wives. Loved it. They are more interested in Beaufort than ever. Roland’s wife heard Mitch O’Neal at the Café one night, and I think she envisions becoming his best friend or something.”
“Did you tell her he doesn’t live here most of the time?”
He snickers. “No. Listen, Caroline.” His tone sobers. “They saw other properties they liked. There’s a restaurant on Lady’s Island for sale. Needs way less work than the Frogmore. Their business is ten times better. It’s close to the beach, tourists, and retirees with money. Are you get-ting the picture?”
“Grimly, yes.” My heart sinks, dragging with it my chance for freedom.
“I’m sorry, but listen, I’ll keep looking for a buyer. You do the same, okay.”
“Come out, come out, wherever you are. Olly, olly, oxen free.”
Kirk’s laugh is warm. “Don’t get discouraged. The Buzz Boys are still interested. It’s just you have some competition. If they don’t buy now, maybe they will in a year.”
“In the meantime, Kirk, did Jones happen to leave a secret cash stash behind?”
“Sorry, no. Why?”
“We’re broke and the Café repairs couldn’t wait.” I reach for the straightened paper clip that’s always on the desk and twirl it between my fingers.
“You’ll get the money back when you sell.”
“When. I’m more in a now need.”
“Hang in there. I think we can close the informal probate by Christmas, bar any unforeseen roadblocks.”
“Christmas?”
“Ninety-nine percent chance, yes. If you still have the Barcelona opportunity, you could be there by January.”
The burden of a few grand over plumbing doesn’t seem so bad now.
“One more thing, Caroline. I was going through some papers, looking at copies of bank statements, and I found Jones’s property insurance policy.”
“Finally, I’m rich. How much?”
“Ha, you’re funny. The Café is currently uninsured.”
I plop my head down to the desktop. “You’re kidding, Kirk.” Jones, you quirky little man. “Why’d he let the insurance lapse?”
“He probably forgot, Caroline. Just call the agent. I’ll overnight the policy to you. Get it renewed quick. You don’t want to be caught with fire or storm damage. Plus, any buyer will want to know you have a current policy.”
I scribble a note on a yellow sticky and tack it to the computer monitor: PAY INSURANCE. Not that I’d forget.
As I hang up, a loud crash, a resounding thud, and a booming voice seep in from the other side of the wall. Stu is tearing up the bathrooms, telling the pipes what they can do with themselves.
The second meeting of Elle’s Operation Wedding Day is at the Café after closing. From behind the counter, I fill three glasses with soda. “El, did you call Jones’s lawyer, Kirk?”
She scrunches up her nose. “You gave me his number.”
“I didn’t think you’d actually call him.”
“Why not? He’s on the list. I liked his voice. He sounds smart and sexy.”
At this, I laugh. “He looks like a rumpled Ross Geller.”
“Oo, does he whine?”
“Not that I’ve noticed.” I pass around the drinks. “But if you call him again, do not mention me, please.”
“What? I have to mention you. You’re the only thing we have in common.” Elle holds up her manhunt list. More than half the names are scratched off. “Water Festival pretty much took care of the list. I’m down to three names. And I can tell you right now, two of them will be a no go. I’m merely giving them a courtesy date.”
Jess gives her side glance. “Desperate girls can’t be so picky.”
“Speaking of . . . Elle, is your meeting over?” I ask. “I need advice.”
She pounds the handle of a butter knife on the counter. “Temporary pause of Operation Wedding Day discussion to deal with Caroline’s problem. You have the floor, Miss Sweeney.”