They Gave My Sister the Hotels, So I Stayed to Take Them Back novel · Chapter 23 of 32

Chapter 23: The Front

"His own mailbox," I said. "He registered a front for his own auction with his own mailbox."

"Nobody looks at mailboxes," Noah said.

"I look at mailboxes."

Around us the hall was still cheering, and nobody else had seen the screen.

Vanessa pushed through two cooks to reach us, mascara streaked, still laughing.

She saw our faces and stopped.

I showed her the phone.

She read it twice, her lips moving on Saltmarsh.

"A company doesn't raise a paddle in a rotunda," she said. "A man does. Which man?"

"Damon won't tell us that."

"Damon's sent me forty-one texts since Friday," my sister said. "He wants dinner on his boat. He wants to explain himself."

"No," Noah and I said together.

Vanessa looked from him to me, and her chin came up.

"I wasn't asking," she said. "I'm telling you where I'll be tomorrow at seven. And you're coming with me, Lise."

"He'll never let me on that boat."

"He will if I won't come without you." She was already typing. "He wants us both. He still thinks there's a deal."

His answer came before she'd put the phone away.

Bring her. Seven. Wear flats, the deck's slick.

Damon kept a forty-foot sloop at the yacht basin on the harbor side of the island.

White hull, teak deck, the cranes of the shipyard rusting orange across the water.

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