Page 14 of Always in Watch Hill
EIGHT
JUSTIN
Icould count on onehand the number of conversations I had about Uncle Charles since he died. It wasn’t many. He was a private man with a small life, the type of person who kept his friend circle tight, and didn’t get out much before the pandemic, and in the middle of it, I’d barely had the strength to talk much about him to the few people who did know him. Over the last few months, it had been easier to simply let the talk about him fade away.
But sharing the best memory I had of him with Lynne was nice. Comforting.Needed.
I sat in front of the computer monitors in my office and flipped them on. Cryptocurrency markets ran twenty-four hours a day, with prices and trades flying at all times of the night, so there was something to do no matter when I decided to do it. I checked my mining software, logged my staking gains on the Excel spreadsheet I started at the beginning of the year, then combed through the posts on a crypto enthusiast super chat where I often found some of the best trends and trading tips. When that got boring, I read through some week-in-review reports of the international markets and a forecast on commodities.
All boring, mind-numbing stuff. And all meant to take my mind off Lynne.
Lynne, who had just accompanied me on one of the best dinners I’d had in recent memory. Sure, the brewery hardly qualified as fine dining, but I’d always known the mark of a good meal was more who you ate it with, not what you ate. And she was charming. When she asked questions, she had a way of looking at me that made me feel she really wanted to hear the answer, that she’d opened her ears and I had her full attention.
Of course, it also helped that she was hot. She knew how to dress to show off her curvaceous body.
I opened a new Internet browser, then typed Lynne Franks, Chicago, and travel writing into the search bar. She came up on the first listing, and I clicked through a professional bio, some articles with her byline, and a few pre-pandemic photos of her at various charity and social events around the city. She’d had a good career, and did very well for herself, even making a few local TV appearances and one or so bookings on national morning shows. It all backed up the woman who I’d met because of this listing.
She was sensational. No doubt. And probably out of my league. No, almostcertainlyout of my league. No question about that, no need to even ask. I was a day trader and cryptocurrency addict who spent most of his time in the second bedroom of his house. A guy like me didn’t measure up to someone like her.
Shutting down the browser, I refreshed the crypto exchange. A movement of five percent in less than fifteen minutes had netted me ten thousand bucks. That was good, and a sign of what I believed—that the market was about to enter its next bull cycle. The next few days would be critical if I wanted to maximize profits. Yes, this was what needed my attention right now, not the woman in the cottage a few hundred feet away. Soon enough, she’d head back to Chicago anyway, and I’d probably never see her again.
Maybe that would be for the best.
NINE
LYNNE
“Last morning,” I announcedto Emily. I put the phone on speaker before tossing it onto the bed next to my duffle bag. “Last hours, actually. And this was a great idea, by the way.”
“So happy to hear that.”
“Yep.” I put a plastic bag of dirty clothes in the luggage and zipped it. “Sent the edits off about half an hour ago, and I think they are really going to like what they see. I got some decent ideas for the back half, and while they aren’t big changes, I believe they take the manuscript to the next level.”
