4
BENNETT DROVE HIS SUV through Summer Beach, relieved to be rid of his infuriating client. As far as he was concerned, Ivy Marin was the most unappreciative, short-sighted, cheap client he’d ever had.
“Inconsiderate woman,” he muttered to himself. He rolled down his windows to vent the car and let the ocean breeze cool his anger.
Ivy had inherited a house on the beach from her husband of questionable merit, and now, with a looming property tax bill and without any discernible income, she’d decided to move into it. What on earth was she thinking? He couldn’t imagine or understand what went through her head.
Of all the days for a client to disturb his equilibrium, today shouldn’t have been that day. Bennett glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard. Ivy had wasted his precious time
