Page 4 of Key West Homecoming

“That’s the million dollar question,” Emma answered.

Marcy sat on the edge of the desk and put her hand flat on Emma’s legal pad so Emma had to stop writing on it.

“How can I help?”

“I’m on the six-forty to Miami first thing in the morning. I need Greg on the client calls and Bradley on the presentation at nine o’clock.”

“Bradley will be sick in the men’s room at eight-forty and superb at nine, so no worries there.”

“That’s what I think too.”

“It’s what everyone thinks except Bradley.”

“What else?”

“All I can say right now is it’s a family thing. I know that’s vague but it’s all I got.”

“All right,” Marcy said. “You’ll tell me when you know more.” She stood and picked up her umbrella, “I’ll move the Brookfield call, and I’ll say you had a family emergency and nothing else. If one of them asks me I’ll be extremely pleasant about it and they won’t ask again.”

She walked out of Emma’s office and went to her own desk. She took her friend’s scarf from a drawer, turned once more to look at Emma. “Stay in touch, and don’t eat too much key lime pie. You’ll come home ten pounds heavier.”

Shortly after Marcy left, Emma decided to go home and pack.

In the elevator she watched the numbers come down. At nine in the morning the conference room would fill up and Bradley would open her presentation and walk seven partners through numbers she had built.

Somewhere around the twentieth floor she understood that she wasn’t flying to Florida about a piece of property. It was more than that.

Her uncle had told her the roof was gone. A broker in Naples had told her about a cottage that was in great condition. Her uncle had been lying to her from the start.

The guard at the desk in the lobby raised a hand to wave. “Have a good evening, Ms. Kendrick.”

“Same to you, Sam.”

Emma walked outside to a wet Chicago evening and suddenly felt overwhelmed by the thought that twelve days was not very long at all.

CHAPTER 2

Emma pulled her suitcase off the carousel at Miami International and headed for the rental car shuttle. The flight had been a blur with a million thoughts running through her head. She had no idea how best to approach her problem. All she could think about was getting to Key West and she’d figure out the rest once there.

She stood in line at the Alamo counter, waiting for the family in front of her to sort through their paperwork. Their two children fought over who got to sit up front in the red Mustang convertible.

A young couple in matching sunglasses stood two spots back, deciding out loud which mid-week snorkeling trip to book. Two women who looked to be in their sixties laughed over something as they wheeled their bags toward the doors.

Everyone seemed to be on vacation.

Emma looked down at her linen blazer, put on at five in the morning for Chicago weather and realized she was over-dressed for the Florida heat. More than once she questioned her decision to travel to Key West. Everyone else at the car rental appeared to be headed for a beach chair and a rum drink. She was on her way to fight over a house she hadn’t seen since she was a child, against an uncle she hardly knew, on a clock she couldn’t stop. A convertible didn’t fit her plans.

Get in, drive down, figure it out. That’s all this is.

“Miss? I can take you down here.”

Emma stepped up to the counter. “I have a reservation. Kendrick.”

The clerk tapped at her keyboard. Her name tag read Yvette and there was a small plastic flamingo standing on top of her monitor.

“Mid-size sedan,” Yvette said. “Now, I have to tell you we’re running a special on convertibles today. I’d be doing you a disservice if I let that go by.”

“The sedan is fine, thank you.”