Page 13 of Lost Love Cove
Three rings. He pressed the phone harder to his ear.
On the fourth, the line clicked, and a smooth recorded voice spoke. “Thank you for calling. These offices are closed until further notice.”
Matt froze. The message repeated. He ended the call and hit dial again. The same voice.Closed until further notice.
His thumb slipped. The phone fell against his lap. He stared down at the blank screen as if it might rewrite the words he had just heard. It didn’t. His chest tightened, and for the first time since Sherri’s funeral, he felt the kind of dizziness that made the ground tilt.
The coffee cart clattered somewhere beside him. He picked the phone back up, gripping it harder than necessary. His house. His work. Every nail he had driven. And now what?Have I been scammed?He sat back, the house documents resting in his lap, and tried to find air that didn’t feel so thin.
CARRIE
Carrie walked toward the coffee cart, an uneasy feeling in her gut. She hadn’t liked the way the manager’s eyes had flicked with something that told her there was something wrong with Matt’s deed, only the man couldn’t tell them. And Carrie had most definitely not liked the way the manager had expressed that Ms. Marshall, whom Matt had been dealing with, was not asefficientas Matt had thought she was.
What on earth did that mean? Carrie’s instincts were on high alert, telling her something was not right with the sale of Matt’s house. Her brow crinkled deeper.Why would his property agent tell him to only deal with Ms. Marshall? That right there sent red flags waving in front of Carrie’s eyes.Did Matt sign a landlease deal without realizing it?Carrie tried to reason thatmaybe that was what happened. But every instinct inside her was screaming:that’s not what’s going on here, Carrie, and you know it!
Carrie had known the moment the manager had looked at Matt’s deed and his eyes had flickered that something was very wrong.
“Hello, what will it be for you today?” the smiling man behind the coffee cart greeted, snapping Carrie from her thoughts.
“Hi,” Carrie greeted him back, forcing a smile and pulling her wallet from her purse. “Two coffees please.”
“Milk and sugar?” the man asked.
Carrie glanced back to where Matt was sitting on the bench before looking at the vendor. “Uh… I’m not sure.”
It didn’t faze the happy, friendly man. “Here, take a few little pockets of milk and help yourself to sugar sachets.”
Carrie thanked him, paid him, and took the coffee.
“Have a nice day, now,” he called after her.
“You too,” Carrie said absently, her mind already returning to Matt’s problem.
Carrie walked back toward Matt, balancing two coffees in one hand and sugar packets tucked between her fingers. The sun pressed on the back of her neck and made the lids of the cups feel hotter than they should. A scooter whined past and left a thin ribbon of exhaust fumes. She kept moving, her eyes on Matt, who sat on the bench under the shady palm, his documents across his knees, and the phone resting face up, as if he did not trust it to stay put.
She stopped in front of him. “Coffee,” she said, offering the cup. “I did not know how you take it, so I brought sugar and milk.”
He reached for it and looked like he remembered how to focus only when the heat touched his palm. “Black is fine,” he said. His voice had a rough edge.
Carrie sat beside him. The bench slats were hot through her dress; she shifted and set her cup on her knee. For a few breaths, she let the noise of the street fill the space where words would normally go. She knew the look in his eyes. She had seen it in families who had just been handed a fact that refused to fit.
“Did you get the property company on the phone?” she asked.
He lifted his screen and held it so she could see the call log. “The office is closed,” Matt said. “Until further notice.”
She felt a small jolt just under her ribs. “Closed.” It came out flat. She took a careful sip of coffee and set the cup down again. “Where are they located from here?”
“Two blocks,” he said. “On the corner near the palm nursery.” Matt frowned, as if the precision of that detail annoyed him. “I went there a time or two when the deal for the house was going through.”
“Well, then,” Carrie said, taking another sip of coffee. “Let’s have our coffee and then take a walk there.”
He turned his head and studied her face as if he were checking for certainty. “I don’t want to drag you into my mess. You have already been so kind and helped me.”
“You are not dragging me into anything,” Carrie assured him, taking another sip of coffee. “This isn’t the best coffee.” She gave a shudder, stood, threw the half-finished cup into the bin, andturned back to Matt, who was taking a sip of his. “Come on.” She took the cup from his hands and ditched it beside hers in the bin. “Let’s go see what’s going on with that property company.” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you have an attorney?”
Matt rose, looking over her and making her pulse race. She ignored her reaction to him, keeping her mind focused on the task. “No, not really.” He shook his head, his voice flat, and his eyes dark with despair. Carrie’s heart pulled.
“Don’t worry,” Carrie told her, an idea formulated. “I know a very good one that will help you.”
