Chapter Five Meetings and Greetings
Chapter Five
Meetings and Greetings
Madison decided to spend the rest of the week in the city.
She needed to be in the office. Her physical in-box on her desk was overflowing.
She kept up with her emails, but the paper was piled high.
She began to feel that she wasn’t being conscientious enough.
But why? Everything was running on schedule.
All the reports were in and analyzed. Most of the stuff sitting on her desk could be handled by any assistant on the floor, but she didn’t want to overburden her coworkers. Everyone had plenty on their plate.
She slapped herself gently on the forehead.
Get an intern! Why hadn’t she thought of that before?
They used to hire temps, but the entire staff was squeezing their budgets to make the shareholders happy.
An intern wouldn’t cost the company anything.
She decided to reach out to one of her former professors at FIT.
She stayed connected with very few people from her past; however, in the fashion business, you were compelled to deal with board members and professors from one of the most prestigious schools for design.
It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a student willing to put in a few hours to “learn the biz.”
She flipped through her old Rolodex and found Dr. Ernhardt’s number.
Her colleagues teased her about the “antiquated” rotating gizmo that held small cards for addresses and phone numbers.
She often stapled someone’s business card rather than copy everything down.
“Look how easy it is to find something,” she would say, as she spun the device to the letter of the alphabet for the contact information.
“You spend so much time swiping up, down, right, left. Then scroll. More swiping. I will bet you fifty dollars I can find a phone number faster than you can.” No one would take her up on her challenge.
Madison wasn’t a Luddite by any stretch of the imagination.
She kept the most current contacts in her phone, as well, but when it came to everyone she had met in the fashion industry, it would be too many gigabytes eating up her storage.
She dialed her former professor’s number and left a message.
It occurred to her she may see him at the dinner.
The execs at the parent company of the magazine liked to trot their high-profile VIPs around.
The head of the blah, blah, blah at the blah-blah-blah-badee-blah.
Or the director of more blah, blah, blah.
Madison hoped she didn’t make a mistake inviting Viggo.
There were many bombastic people on the guest list. She sighed.
She decided she would suggest the game she and her brother used to play when their parents were hosting some kind of shindig at their apartment.
Their mother and father would insist that Madison and Lincoln get dressed and say hello to all the guests.
Meanwhile, the siblings would make up stories about the invitees.
One was an alien, the other a bank robber, etc.
The two of them would create entire histories of the unsuspecting guests.
Growing up, she and Lincoln were thick as thieves.
In many ways, they still were. And getting to spend the summer with him was a wonderful gift.
Sharing the house with him and Olivia these past weeks had been so much fun, and knowing they would have countless summers together at the shore made her smile.
Madison checked the time. The owners of the rental were six hours ahead, so it was still early enough in the day.
She hesitated at first, thinking she should have brought in the real estate agent.
She would most definitely want a commission.
As the phone rang, Madison put that thought on hold.
She would compensate Irene if everything went according to plan.
“Hi, it’s Madison Wainwright. How are you?
” Very polite. Cordial. “I am well, thank you.” She paused.
“Everything is fine. Lovely. We’ve been enjoying every minute of it.
” A little more conversation passed; then Madison put forth the question.
“This may seem like it’s coming out of nowhere, but would you have any interest in selling the house? To me?” Madison held her breath.
Mrs. Kramer, the house owner, replied, “We’re going to be spending another two years in Europe for our jobs, but I don’t think we want to sell the property right away.
Would you consider renting it for the next two years?
And if we finally decide to sell, we’ll give you the right of first refusal. How does that sound?”
Madison knew she had to make a lightning decision. They were going to rent it to somebody, so it might as well be her. “What do you want per month?”
“Would four thousand work for you? It will cover the mortgage and taxes and help with our overhead. The cost of living here is steep.” Mrs. Kramer was referring to Switzerland, where she and her husband were currently working and living.
“Four thousand plus utilities, correct?” Madison wanted it to be clear. It was less than she was paying for her loft, which was one fourth the size of the house.
“Yes. If that works for you.”
“Perfect.” Madison was overjoyed. It was almost as if the decision had been made for her. Two years in Smuggler’s Cove should be enough time to decide if it was the life for her. Part time or full time.
“Excellent. I have to say, your phone call came at a particularly good time. We haven’t had the opportunity to find other tenants, so you are making this seamless for us.”
Madison let out a long exhale, and the weight she was carrying on her shoulders lifted. At that moment, she noticed how tense she had been the past few days. Considering all the excitement and the drama, it wasn’t a big surprise.
Mrs. Kramer continued. “We’ll get the agreement in place and email it to you.”
“How should I pay you?” Madison asked.
“Venmo? PayPal?” Mrs. Kramer replied.
“Can I make a bank transfer?”
“Yes, of course.”
“As soon as I get the contract, I’ll sign it and wire the money. Three months’ rent in advance, and one month’s security?”
“Great.” Mrs. Kramer sounded as relieved as Madison felt. “Thanks, Madison. Chat soon.”
Madison leaned against the back of her chair. “You did it now, girl.” She was grinning from ear to ear. A date and a house in less than three days. Yep. Madison’s life was swiftly moving in a new direction.
As the week progressed, Charlie, Crusty, and Lincoln made sure Kirby’s was ready for business.
Not that an unhinged door would slow down their progress, but it had been unnerving, especially for Crusty.
He was unusually sullen. Charlie knew something was eating at his old pal and motioned for him to follow him outside. “What’s on yer mind, Crusty?”
Crusty seemed nervous at the question, but responded, “I’ve been keeping some of Kirby’s things at my place. I didn’t think anything of it until this here situation with the door and all.”
“What do you mean?” Charlie didn’t think keeping some of Kirby’s possessions was worth the angst his friend was exhibiting.
“Well, maybe there was something in them boxes they were looking for,” Crusty said, his eyes blinking faster than usual.
“Did you find anything in them?” Charlie asked.
“Nothin’ that seemed especially important. Some books, photos, a couple of fishing trophies.”
“No treasure map?” Charlie was half-joking.
Crusty’s head snapped at attention. “What? Do you think I’d keep something like that to myself?”
“Crusty. I’m jokin’.” Charlie placed his hand on Crusty’s bony shoulder.
“Well, if there is one, I don’t know what it looks like,” Crusty said, and let out a big sigh. He was glad he’d told Charlie about Kirby’s things. He hadn’t intended to be secretive, but the time whisked by, and he really hadn’t given it much thought until the break-in.
“Why don’t you bring the boxes over here, and we can all take a look through them?” Charlie suggested. “Maybe something Linc and Madison might want to see.”
“Good idea.” Crusty pulled a crumbled bandanna from his back pocket and wiped his face. “Maybe when Miss Madison gets back from the city.”
“I think she said she’ll be back late Saturday night.”
Viggo was approaching the two men when he heard the words Saturday night. He cleared his throat. “How did you know about Saturday night?” he asked, thinking they were discussing the event in New York.
Crusty and Charlie gave each other a look. “What about Saturday night?” Charlie asked.
“You guys were the ones talking about Saturday night,” Viggo replied.
“Yeah. Miss Madison will be back, and I have some of Kirby’s things I thought she and Lincoln might want to look at.”
Viggo paused. So they weren’t discussing the event.
He had been ruminating over the forthcoming date all week, and it was top of mind.
“That’s very kind of you, Crusty.” Viggo was relieved.
Not that he was embarrassed, but he didn’t want the local gossip machine cranking its way through town.
He was thinking more about Madison’s privacy than his own.
Crusty continued, “There’s nothin’ special as far as I can tell. I don’t mean no disrespect to Kirby, but nothin’ that anybody else would be interested in. I mean, maybe Madison or Lincoln.”
Lincoln heard his name and walked toward the men. “Somebody call me?” He couldn’t tell over the din of motorboats sweeping by.
“Kinda,” Crusty said. “I got a couple o’ boxes of Kirby’s things back at my place. I been meaning to tell you about them. For real. I wasn’t plannin’ on keeping any of it. I was just waitin’ ‘til things got settled. There wasn’t anything legal-wise looking. Just some pictures, trophies.”
“No worries, Crusty. I wouldn’t have you pegged for larceny,” Lincoln said with a big smile. “We can sure take a look whenever it’s convenient for you.”
“Any time is convenient as long as Charlie or Hannah don’t need me.”