Page 59 of Smuggler's Cove

“First thing is renting a house for the weekend.”

Lincoln laughed out loud. “Of course. How foolish of me.”

“Liv is working on it. I think it could be fun.”

“Are you alright?” Lincoln asked suspiciously.

“What do you mean?”

“You swore you would never set foot over there ever again. And now you want to rent a house for the weekend?”

“Why not? Seafood festival. Sun. Beach. Uncle Kirby.”

“I feel as if I’m missing something.” Lincoln secretly was pleased that his sister had a slight change of heart about the area, but her enthusiasm was suspicious.

“Like what?” Madison tried to remain stoic.

“I dunno. But you rarely change your mind at the drop of a dime.”

” What do you mean?” Madison asked.

” You’re not one to change her mind so easily. What gives?”

“I was too eager to rush to judgment, that’s all. The people are genuinely nice, and the area is lovely.” She waited for her brother to continue. She did not want to implicate herself in any ulterior motives.

“Well, I am glad to hear it. I thought you were being a little too judgy.”

“It’s part of my job,” Madison defended herself.

“It’s not fashion week at the Jersey Shore.”

“Is it ever?” Madison asked with a touch of cynicism.

“And there she is,” Lincoln joked.

“Alright, already. Anyway, mark your calendar. Details to follow. See you at six-ten.”

“Ten-four,” Lincoln returned the shorthand. Convincing Madison of his plans may not be as difficult as he first thought.

* * *

By five o’clock, Madison was finished looking through cover shots and was ready to head home. “Shall we walk? It is such a nice evening.”

“Sure.” Olivia changed into her sneakers, and Madison yanked off her stilettos and swapped them for her new white skimmers. She liked the way they felt.

As they were leaving the building, Olivia gave her an update on finding a house to rent. “I found a few that look perfect for us. Four bedrooms, two and a half baths, and near the beach.”

“I sense abutcoming,” Madison replied.

“But most want a month’s lease, preferably the season.”

“What kind of money are we talking about?” Madison asked.

“Five thousand for the month, twelve if we take it for three months.”

“Yikes. Those are Hamptons numbers. Are any of them on the beach?” Madison was calculating in her head.

“Nothing is exactly on the beach. At least not near Smuggler’s Cove. There is one that has a spectacular view of the ocean, a pool, and a jacuzzi. It’s on one of those hills.”