Page 92 of The Castaways
In a matter of hours, the world was different. He had confessed to Andrea about his affair, he had made love to his wife for the first time in months. And yet life beckoned. Phoebe rose early to get back out to the savannah to help clean up, and Addison went into the office.
It was very early, but Florabel was there, at her desk, drinking the devil’s coffee—black, strong, steaming hot.
“How was the party?” she asked.
The party? It took Addison a minute to figure out what party Florabel was talking about. “It was great!” he said. “The food was delicious!”
“You met my clients? Hank and Legris?”
Addison scratched his nose. Did those names ring a bell? Addison was a professional bullshitter; he was very good at feeling his way through the dark until someone turned on the lights.
“Hank,” he said.
“And his girlfriend, Legris. They’re friends of Phoebe’s? They have that huge sailboat?”
“Oh, right, right, right,” Addison said. The guy with the sailboat, Hank. Friend of Swede and Jennifer’s. Addison had actually been on that boat twice, ten or so years earlier. There had been no Legris then that Addison knew of. Back then, Hank had been newly divorced and had a quartet of young women hanging off him. “Which clients?” he asked.
Florabel gave him a look. “I only have two clients, Dealer. Hank and Legris are buying the Quaise cottage.”
Addison smiled and nodded to mask his sinking heart. Hank the sailboat guy was buying the Quaise cottage. Hank and Legris, friends of Phoebe’s?
“I’m a little confused,” Addison admitted.
“Phoebe is friends with my clients, Hank and Legris, who are buying the Quaise cottage. Phoebe was the one who told them about the cottage in the first place, actually.”
“She was?” Addison’s whole face was itching now. This was not right. Phoebe didn’t know anything about any of his listings, much less his most confidential listing, which was the Quaise cottage.
“Yeah! The reason they bought such a small place is because they have that enormous boat.”
Well, that made sense. But not the other part.
“Phoebe wasn’t the one who told them about the Quaise cottage,” Addison said.
“Yes, she was.”
“She didn’t know about it. She doesn’t know a thing about any of the properties.”
“Well, she knew about the Quaise cottage. I told her about it. She came in here looking for you one day this past spring and I told her you were probably out at the cottage. Remember how much time you spent over the winter fixing it up?”
Fixing it up. Addison scanned his desk for something to grab. Was Florabel making this up to torture him? He was afraid to look at her. He stared at the phone, willing it to ring so that Florabel would answer it and he would have a chance to breathe.
“Phoebe’s never seen the cottage,” he said.
“Sure she has,” Florabel said. “I told her exactly where it was and she went up there. And later she called to thank me. She said she found you, no problem.”
“Found me?” he said.
Florabel nodded, her lips a smug line.
“When was this?”
“This past spring. March, April.”
Addison narrowed his eyes at Florabel. She was such an unpleasant bitch. Was she trying to blackmail him? Was she thinking he would increase her commission, or give her a chunk of cash from the company’s operating budget?”
“What are you after, Florabel?” he asked.
“I’m not after anything, Dealer. I wanted to know if you met Hank and Legris. If Phoebe introduced you. If you made a connection with them, our clients, the buyers of the Quaise cottage.”
