Page 14 of The Hampton Beach Café
Instead of saying anything, she bid again.
The polite one leaned in and said, “Don’t let them bait you. This place is a lot of work. You might not want that much renovation.”
She wasn’t going to buy the place…was she?
The big guy of the duo raised his paddle again, raising the price another thousand. Didn’t small increments mean bidding was coming to a conclusion usually? She was sure she remembered that from an episode of Let’s Move. If the last bid was on him, then Lockwood’s place would be torn down, and other families would be pressured to sell…
She raised her paddle, swallowing hard.
Glancing sideways at the snide pair, she saw them glaring at her. The self-satisfied smirk paired with the suit made her instantly think of her ex-husband. It wasn’t like Malcolm was a bad person. He just…
“I know you think you’re winning a point here, but you’re actually just making our bosses' life harder,” the little one said.
Good, she thought.
If she could make it look like there was more interest in the place, maybe that phone bidder would come back into the game.
He raised him, she countered, and the man beside her leaned in again.
“Have you seen inside? There are months’ of work to be done just on the shop floor, let alone the living quarters upstairs. No offense, but you don’t exactly seem like the power tools type.”
Suddenly the polite man was less palatable. She hated the concerned tone in his voice, like he was actually worried she might hurt herself on a drill.
The unpleasant duo raised their bid, and the auctioneer was looking at Frances with her little hammer poised and ready to strike.
“Going once….”
The sale price was a little over three-quarters of her share portfolio that was just liquidated. There would be taxes and fees for sure, but…
“Do you really want to put months of work into a place you haven’t even seen inside of in decades?” Polite but sanctimonious said.
But she had seen inside…she had spent years there with Alex and their friends, and there was no way in this life or the next that she’d let some sniveling developer who sends minions to auctions to bully people they thought they could intimidate take it.
“Going twi––”
Confidently, she raised her paddle.
“Four seventy-five,” she said loudly, not glancing at either of the interfering groups on either side of her.
She could hear them, though, one was laughing softly, and the other two were talking in a low rumble––but neither of them was bidding.
“Sold! To the lady in green.”
The little hammer clapped down louder than Frances would have bet it was capable of.
“Congratulations Frances,” polite but sanctimonious said.
Wait, how did he know her name?
NINE
“You seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours…” Frances had always loved that line ever since she read it in one of her mom’s books as a teenager and had used it whenever she had the chance to since.
“Well, I do apologize,” polite but sanctimonious said. “I will admit to hoping you’d remember me, but I won’t be offended, don’t worry.”
Oh lord. She must have known him back then. Come to think of it, a few of the things he had said made more sense in that context. She reprimanded herself silently.
“I do apologize,” she said, “it’s been a long time…I’m assuming?”
