Page 23 of The Sandover Beach Billionaire

Jenna sat in the café at Bohn’s, low in her chair so that she was almost out of view from the rest of the store. She told Rachel that she wanted to call another real estate agent, but the truth was that she was hiding from Jackson. It felt embarrassingly desperate to be here again, but Rachel had insisted. She practically screeched when Jenna suggested going to Harris Teeter.

“Are you broken? We don’t shop at the Tweeter. At least not On Island. The house is filled with junk food. I want something healthy, like salad. And ice cream. Don’t judge.”

She couldn’t explain to Rachel why she didn’t want to go back to Bohn’s without explaining the pattern she and Jackson were in: he does something nice, I insult him. And repeat. She needed to thank him for returning her shoes, for the gift bag, for the note.

Especially for the note, which she had reread multiple times the night before and that morning. What did it say about her that it was the closest thing to a love letter she had received in her adult life? Something else Steve and Mark shared was that apparently neither was a romantic.

Where do you go after a note like that? Jenna’s desperation was exactly why she needed to hide here in case Jackson was working. She had to admit that the café was a great space. It had been added in the last five years or so. There was a gas-burning fireplace with a stone face and nicer tables than you’d typically see in a grocery store. It had a row of glass counters with pre-prepared foods and a menu of food-to-order. Everything from grilled panini sandwiches to Asian stir-fry. The smell of garlic hung in the air.

The woman on the phone—Kelly?—had asked Jenna another question about the house. “I’m sorry—could you repeat that?”

“Of course. You sounded unsure and I just wanted to make sure that you had really decided on selling. Is this something you want to do?”

Jenna knew what she was going to say, but it took effort to get the words out. They felt so final. “Yes. I’m going to sell.”

“Great. Can you stop by the office for paperwork tomorrow? Or I’ll come to you. That might be better so I can walk around and get a feel for the place.”

At least she didn’t mention “teardown.” Jenna’s phone beeped and she held it away from her ear. She was at 3% battery life. She must have forgotten to charge it the night before. “Kelly, can you hang on a sec? My phone is about to die.”

There was a charger in Rachel’s car, but Jenna didn’t have the keys. She looked around for Rachel, but she must have been lost in the freezer section still. A preteen girl who looked a few years older than her niece Ava sat a few tables away with her phone plugged into a pink charger.

Jenna walked over to the table. The girl looked up at her with a bored expression, then back down at her phone.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you,” Jenna said. “Can I borrow your charger really fast? My phone is dead and I’m in the middle of an important call.”

The girl continued scrolling through some video app. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

Jenna almost snorted. “Look, five minutes. Probably less. I’ll sit right there where you can see me. I’m not some weirdo, promise.”

“That remains to be seen.” The girl sighed and pulled the charger out of the wall socket. Before Jenna knew what was happening, the girl lifted a phone snapped a photo of her. “If you steal my charger, now I have a picture of you I can show the police.”

Jenna stared at the girl for a moment before heading back to her table and plugging everything in. She was, as Jenna’s mother would have said, a piece of work. Where her mother would have meant it in a disapproving way, Jenna liked her gumption.

Gumption? Ugh, now I’m officially an old lady.

When she had been that age, she would never have spoken to an adult like that. Much of the time she felt like she was still young, not a few years shy of forty. Until she actually talked to younger people, when she felt decidedly old. Like right now.

“Sorry,” Jenna said to Kelly. “I had to plug in my phone.”

She half-listened to Kelly talking about paperwork and staging and a walk-through. She knew the drill, but for whatever reason had not mentioned that she had her real estate license. As Kelly droned on, Jenna watched the girl a few tables away. Would Ava have that same attitude in a year or two? Doubtful. Ava was that quiet and perfect first child—good grades, polite manners, sweet, cute.

The girl at the table was recording a video of herself talking. Jenna was so glad cell phones didn’t exist when she was young. The stupid things she would have publicly shared with the world …

“Tomorrow at three sound okay?”

“That should be fine. I’m sure my sister would like to talk with you as well.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

Kelly hung up without so much as a goodbye. The woman was all business, which was fine. Jenna didn’t want to make small talk about it.

She let the phone charge for a minute or two, getting up to 20% before walking it back to the girl at the table. “Thanks,” she said.

The girl nodded, but didn’t say anything. “What?” she asked, when Jenna didn’t leave.

“Nothing. You just … I have a niece about your age.”

“Now you’re just being creepy. I’m twelve and it’s totally legal to sit in a café by yourself. It’s not legal to harass minors. My dad owns this place. He’ll be happy to kick you out if I ask.”

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