Chapter 10
MAX
There’s a reason I work with grocery stores and not as a contractor.
I have a select amount of patience, but that has gone quickly with the number of hoops I’ve been through to get the permit process started and make sure we know all the special materials that need to be used with the properties in this area being so close to the coast.
If only I could channel my maternal grandfather’s patience. Opa Vogel worked with a care that most don’t have these days and was always spoken well of by others. I don’t think I’d be the man I am today without his example.
Since the city offices close at lunchtime on Fridays, the permits won’t be ready until next week. While those are in process, I can figure out what’s going on with the keys and then hire a contractor.
If I didn’t have the background pressure to return to New York, I might even think about working on some of it as a way to use my hands and get out of the office from time to time. I can feel that building slowly, but it’s not at a fever pitch yet.
Where can I find the keys to the buildings? Does Roman have someone here I can get them from?
Roman is a guy from our college fraternity who is a master of all things real estate. My company, Alder Haus, usually uses his team to put together information when we’re looking to open a new store.
Aiden doesn’t respond right off, and I’m trying to figure out what’s the next step I can do while waiting in limbo.
I walk into the coffee shop and am disappointed to see the woman with the short purple hair behind the counter.
I didn’t realize how much I was hoping to see Avery instead.
And only because I still want to figure her out and what makes her different from most of the people in my life.
That’s the only reason, that I tell myself anyway.
“Hello, Max,” the cashier says with a knowing grin.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” I say, trying to see if she has a nametag or anything.
“I’m Sarah. I made Avery tell me your name.”
I glance up at the chalkboard sign behind the cash register, needing a chance to avoid eye contact with her. “Let me just get a medium black coffee, please.” I pull out a few dollars from my pocket and place them on the counter.
“Sure thing,” Sarah says. “What brings you to our town so early?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Early?”
“We don’t get many tourists until The Season officially begins,” she says, pouring the coffee into the cup.
I lean in. “What exactly is this ‘season’ everyone keeps talking about?”
She gives me a look of surprise, but I don’t let it get to me. “It’s the big tourist time here. We go from a small community to a booming beach town in about two weeks.”
That’s probably when Aiden and his family always came.
“I’m checking on some projects for the company I work for.”
Her eyes go wide. “Are you with one of those companies trying to buy up the south end of town for luxury resorts?”
“No, this is the first I’ve heard of that. No, mine are some smaller renovation projects.”
To be honest, I haven’t seen into most of the buildings I own yet. Which is why I wish Aiden would text me back. I don’t have our friend Roman’s number saved in this phone, not thinking I’d need a master at real estate when I flew here.
Sarah hands me the cup with a lid and I thank her. Then I turn before she can say much else, not in the mood to be interrogated.
A company trying to buy up beach land. I can see the appeal. Sure, there is a lot that goes into it, but there’s room to create the large skyscraper resorts, which would impact this town severely.
Communities like this thrive when there’s enough work for everyone, but if they’re overwhelmed, productivity and actual viability are impacted.
That’s probably why Aiden swooped in to get us to help with some of the buildings. But are there more that will be affected because of the investors?
Shaking my head, I tell myself to rein in my thoughts and focus on what I’m working on now. It’s something I can ask Aiden, if he’ll ever text me back.
Normally I don’t notice how long it takes people to respond, but with not much to do, it’s more apparent.
As if he knows I’m irritated, I finally get a text.
Roman didn’t work on these ones. It was when Isabelle was on bedrest and he took some time off from work.
Who did you use then?
I’m surprised he didn’t just wait for Roman to be back to work. He’s one of our frat brothers who’s built a real estate empire in England. Most of us use him for all of our real estate deals because of how good he is at his job and finding just what we need.
A local real estate agent. Maria Matthews, I think?
Send me her info. I need the keys and the documents to get this remodel started.
Are you planning on sticking around for a while?
I have to pause after reading his question. It’s one of those things where I get going on a project and am time blind. In this instance, I think I’m just trying to block out whatever I can while doing something productive.
I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but someone has to get this project going right. Who did you hire as the contractor?
Rusty Simms. Last I heard, he picked up and moved to Hawaii.
Using our money?
It’s a stretch, but I know I contributed forty to fifty thousand, and it doesn’t look like much has been done with any of it. I can only hope he worked on the coffee shop interior before ditching this place.
I think so. Once the last payment went through, I didn’t hear anything from him.
I growl, trying to calm the anger flowing through me.
And you didn’t let me know?
Sorry, man. I got busy with work and haven’t made it down there. I’ll send that contact over now. Let me know what else you need, and I’ll get it for you.
I can’t be mad at him. He’s just as busy as I am and is trying to do what he can to save something he loves. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt that way about anything.
But I can see the appeal here. The beautiful water, the soft sand on the beach. The town of people wanting the best for their neighbors.
Once the contact card comes through, I click on it to call the woman.
“Maria Matthews.”
“Hi, my name is Max, and I’m representing Bauer Enterprise LLC. I was told you might have or might know where the keys are to the buildings the company owns.”
“I don’t hold keys for anyone,” she says with an edge.
Okay, I’ll have to find another way to ask, but it’s going to channel every ounce of patience I have. “I’m just trying to track them down. If there’s a way I can get information on who has the keys or who they were given to once the sale was completed, I’d appreciate it.”
“Again—”
“I’m sorry, Maria, is it?”
“Yes,” she says with hesitation.
“I know you’ve got a lot going on. If you don’t mind taking a quick second to look for any snippet of information I’m sure you took while working on this deal, I would sincerely appreciate it. You would be helping me save my job.”
“Is your company interested in buying more land and buildings here?” she asks. It’s obvious what she’s going for right now.
“I’m sure if they found the right property, they’d be willing to buy more.”
“Let me check and I’ll call you right back.”
The line goes silent, and I see she’s hung up.
I wait a few minutes, hoping I’ll get some good news about the keys. I decide it’s time to log into my personal email and check on a bunch of the documents. It takes a minute because I forgot my password, but I finally get into the main cloud folder and realize none of the stuff is in there.
I try another email that I must’ve set up for the business, frustrated that I have to go through the hoops of fixing the password, but I’m finally in.
There are several folders, each labeled with the property address, and I go through them the best I can on this phone.
It would be easier to use my laptop, but for now, I’m not ready to go back to the B&B.
In New York, I’m inside for all but an hour or two.
I’m taking full advantage of the outdoor refreshment.
Many of the papers were signed by Maria Matthews. Aiden probably asked someone who he should use and went with her.
It’s possible he went in thinking we could buy one or two buildings, and she upped it to the four plus. I could see Aiden caving, but I wish he would’ve said something.
My phone rings, and it’s the number I called just ten minutes earlier.
“Hello,” Maria says.
“Hi. What did you find out?”
“I don’t believe I got your name originally.” There’s something there that makes me wonder if she’s digging for information, or just needing to verify before handing out privileged details about my properties.
“I’m Max Luca. I work for Bauer.”
“Perfect. I did find the keys. They were in a box in our materials room. I have to head home to check on my son. Would you mind meeting me there?”
“Send me the address and I’ll head over now.”
The walk takes me about fifteen minutes. I’ve passed through the more run-down part of Penrose Beach and have entered into a section where there are larger beach homes.
The one that matches the address is a bigger model of the one just a few houses down.
I knock on the door, and it opens to a woman with an early 2000s hairstyle and a gray business suit. She looks familiar, but I can’t pinpoint from where. It could’ve been a chance meeting at one of the restaurants in town.
“Are you Max?” she asks.
“That’s me. You have a nice home here.”
She grins and turns toward it. “Thank you. It went on the market around the time your sales went through. I was able to buy it with the commissions.”
Well, she must’ve gotten quite a bit for selling so many buildings in town at the same time.
“That’s great,” I say. I reach out for the keys and it’s a mess of them. “These are all the keys?”
She smiles brightly. “Yes, To all four buildings the company owns. I know there are some duplicates and some that we never figured out what they went to. I didn’t worry about it, but Rusty complained when he was working on the project.”
Did he give up because he couldn’t open the doors?