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“Coral?” I ask when she picks up.
“Yeah, boss?” There’s loud music in the background, and I’m guessing she’s enjoying her night at some club.
“Sorry to call you after hours.”
“That’s fine. What can I do for you?”
“Can you please send me Dwight Summers’s number?”
“Oh. Why do you want to talk to that weirdo?”
“He’s not a weirdo… He’s just different.”
“Same thing.”
“Either way—”
“Yes, yes, the boss is always right. Hold on. I’ll transfer you. I’m just trying to locate his name in your contacts.” She pauses. “Wait, there it is. Transferring you now.”
“Thanks. I appreciate you.”
“You better.”
The line drops but starts ringing moments later.
“Hello?” A gruff voice asks.
“Hey, Dwight?”
“Speaking.” Fittingly, I can hear bees buzzing down the line.
“Hey, this is Dean Cornel. I’m not sure if you remember me—”
“Cornel?” He interrupts. “Are you the one who almost tanked your dad’s company?”
I feel like banging my head against the wall, but I don’t.
“Uh, no. That’s Ryan. I’m the other one.”
“Oh, okay. What can I do you for?”
“Well, I hope to get some of your expertise on keeping beehives.”
“Is that right?”
“Mhm. A…” What do I call Mae? My neighbor? The beautiful woman next door? “A friend of mine found some old hives on her property, and she’s interested in reviving them.”
“Hmm.” His response sounds a bit like the buzz of a bee, and I have to stop myself from snorting out a laugh.
“Do you think that would be something you’d be interested in doing?”
“I could come out and assess the situation.”
“Great.”
“When were you thinking?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure they want to get this thing looked at as soon as they can. So, maybe tomorrow night? Would that work?”
