house!”
The receptionist might as well have been a parrot. “You say there’s a man at the house?”
“Uh, yeah! And he’s—well, let’s just say he’s made himself very much at home!”
“Wow, OK …” Despite the annoying parroting, there seemed to be genuine consternation in the girl’s tone. “Let me check something.”
Annie glared at the closed bedroom door while she waited.
Finally, the girl returned to the phone.
“OK, I don’t have anyone on the books and you’re the only one I’ve given keys to this morning so I can assure you that whoever’s there shouldn’t be.”
Annie expelled a breath of relief. “Thank God! I thought maybe you guys accidentally double booked or something.”
“That’s not even remotely possible,” the girl assured. “We only keep two sets of keys for that property. You have one and I have the other sitting right here in front of me … unless…”
The other end of the phone went ominously silent and Annie felt like screaming. “Unless what ?” she asked as calmly as she was able.
The bedroom door burst open and out came its occupant, newly dressed in a pair of blue and white plaid shorts and a white sport shirt that nicely complemented his tan—and his pecs. But she really wished she hadn’t noticed that part.
He walked toward her, any previous trace of amusement banished from his expression. “Is that the management company?”
Annie suddenly felt a little like a deer caught in headlights. She nodded. The girl on the other end of the line was talking again, but Annie didn’t comprehend a single word she was saying.
The guy extended his hand. “Do you mind? I think I can clear this up pretty quickly.”
Annie handed him her cell phone. “Hi, this is James Heywood. Who am I speaking with?”
Annie couldn’t help but note that Mr. Heywood didn’t seem the least bit concerned by the situation. Fiddling uncomfortably with the beach house keys, she studied the numbers written in black marker on the key tab: 1776 E. A. She looked around the porch at the number on the column.
Right there in big bright-blue wooden letters was 1776.
“Hi Sandy,” he was saying, “I spoke to Mike about a month ago and explained I’d be in town for the Fourth. Can you tell me what happened here?”
Settling into a whitewashed rocking chair behind her, Annie concentrated on the one-sided conversation. Lady shoved her nose into Annie’s hand and whined. Quite honestly, Annie felt a bit like whining too.
“Unfortunately, apologies aren’t going to resolve this,” he was saying. “Is there another property available?”
Noticing the stubborn set of his jaw and the clear-headed gleam in his eyes, Annie determined he wasn’t really the sort of guy you really wanted to argue with, naked or otherwise.
His next words verified her deduction. “It doesn’t matter,” he continued. “I expect you to rectify this immediately.” Then suddenly the conversation was over. He turned to hand Annie the cell phone and walked inside, leaving the door wide open yet again.
Annie returned the phone to her ear a little uncertainly. “Uh, hello?”
“I’m so sorry!” the girl hurriedly explained. “That was Mr. Heywood!”
Annie had the sudden, distinct impression this wasn’t going to go her way, no matter how much it meant to her to have this house. “So I heard. What’s that got to do with me?”
“Well, you see, he owns that property so we can’t exactly ask him to leave. So this is definitely a problem.”
Whatever self-control Annie had maintained dissipated. “You have got to be kidding! I’ve already paid for this house! You can’t tell me I have to go home now after driving six hundred miles to get here—with my dog!” she added, completely incensed.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Franklin! We had absolutely no idea he was going to be there!”
Annie bolted to her feet. “Yes you did! I just heard him say so! Now you’re telling me I have to
The receptionist might as well have been a parrot. “You say there’s a man at the house?”
“Uh, yeah! And he’s—well, let’s just say he’s made himself very much at home!”
“Wow, OK …” Despite the annoying parroting, there seemed to be genuine consternation in the girl’s tone. “Let me check something.”
Annie glared at the closed bedroom door while she waited.
Finally, the girl returned to the phone.
“OK, I don’t have anyone on the books and you’re the only one I’ve given keys to this morning so I can assure you that whoever’s there shouldn’t be.”
Annie expelled a breath of relief. “Thank God! I thought maybe you guys accidentally double booked or something.”
“That’s not even remotely possible,” the girl assured. “We only keep two sets of keys for that property. You have one and I have the other sitting right here in front of me … unless…”
The other end of the phone went ominously silent and Annie felt like screaming. “Unless what ?” she asked as calmly as she was able.
The bedroom door burst open and out came its occupant, newly dressed in a pair of blue and white plaid shorts and a white sport shirt that nicely complemented his tan—and his pecs. But she really wished she hadn’t noticed that part.
He walked toward her, any previous trace of amusement banished from his expression. “Is that the management company?”
Annie suddenly felt a little like a deer caught in headlights. She nodded. The girl on the other end of the line was talking again, but Annie didn’t comprehend a single word she was saying.
The guy extended his hand. “Do you mind? I think I can clear this up pretty quickly.”
Annie handed him her cell phone. “Hi, this is James Heywood. Who am I speaking with?”
Annie couldn’t help but note that Mr. Heywood didn’t seem the least bit concerned by the situation. Fiddling uncomfortably with the beach house keys, she studied the numbers written in black marker on the key tab: 1776 E. A. She looked around the porch at the number on the column.
Right there in big bright-blue wooden letters was 1776.
“Hi Sandy,” he was saying, “I spoke to Mike about a month ago and explained I’d be in town for the Fourth. Can you tell me what happened here?”
Settling into a whitewashed rocking chair behind her, Annie concentrated on the one-sided conversation. Lady shoved her nose into Annie’s hand and whined. Quite honestly, Annie felt a bit like whining too.
“Unfortunately, apologies aren’t going to resolve this,” he was saying. “Is there another property available?”
Noticing the stubborn set of his jaw and the clear-headed gleam in his eyes, Annie determined he wasn’t really the sort of guy you really wanted to argue with, naked or otherwise.
His next words verified her deduction. “It doesn’t matter,” he continued. “I expect you to rectify this immediately.” Then suddenly the conversation was over. He turned to hand Annie the cell phone and walked inside, leaving the door wide open yet again.
Annie returned the phone to her ear a little uncertainly. “Uh, hello?”
“I’m so sorry!” the girl hurriedly explained. “That was Mr. Heywood!”
Annie had the sudden, distinct impression this wasn’t going to go her way, no matter how much it meant to her to have this house. “So I heard. What’s that got to do with me?”
“Well, you see, he owns that property so we can’t exactly ask him to leave. So this is definitely a problem.”
Whatever self-control Annie had maintained dissipated. “You have got to be kidding! I’ve already paid for this house! You can’t tell me I have to go home now after driving six hundred miles to get here—with my dog!” she added, completely incensed.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Franklin! We had absolutely no idea he was going to be there!”
Annie bolted to her feet. “Yes you did! I just heard him say so! Now you’re telling me I have to
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