Meanwhile, in Paris, Alex and Debbie seemed to have finally settled in a comfortable place with their post-breakup friendship. Now that Alex knew that Debbie regretted it almost as much as he did, he wasn't as confused by her actions and responses. The hot yoga session had been relaxing and cathartic in more ways than one. Alex still felt relaxed and at ease in his body, but in his mind he felt a sense of clarity he had never experienced before.
Shortly after hot yoga, Alex had found a bed and breakfast close to the convention center, and was able to set himself up within the hour. He checked their itinerary for the day and texted Debbie.
"We have some time," his message read, "want to grab coffee before?"
Debbie saw the message, then messaged back, "Sounds good to me!"
Alex smiled, tucking his phone into his left chest pocket and slipping on a blazer. He wore something a little more casual. One of the lecturers who had spoken talked about the importance of the way you dressed when showing a home, so Alex decided to try a couple of looks in the last days of the convention. Today, he chose to wear simple blue jeans, a button-up shirt, and a navy blue blazer. As he left the house, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.
This look suits me, he thought, grinning.
He met Debbie at a small cafe around the corner from the convention center. Little round tables had been arranged in neat rows outside the glass-fronted cafe, which was called Cafe Marie. He entered the cafe, and found Debbie sitting at a table toward the back of the cafe. She had ordered for both of them. Black coffee for him, and a mocha with whipped cream and chocolate shavings or her. He smiled as he sat down. A plate of croissants sat between them. He grabbed one and ripped the end off, then dunked it into his coffee and popped it into his mouth.
"Feeling a little sweet today, are we?" he asked, gesturing to Debbie's mocha with the half-torn croissant. His tone was playful.
Debbie smiled and nodded. "It's the last couple days," she said. "I figured if I can't treat myself now, then when can I?"
"Good point," he said, tearing off another chunk of croissant. "Did you notice the first seminar?"
Debbie nodded. "Yeah, it looks interesting."
Alex hummed. "I'm not so sure about it." He stuffed the rest of the flaky, buttery croissant into his mouth and chewed, allowing the crunch to satisfy him.
"Why not?" she asked. "It'll be interesting to see where real estate is going. There's a lot to keep in mind, and we have to be able to adjust for that."
His phone buzzed. He checked, and saw a message from his mom.
"Are you free?" it read.
He checked the time, then responded, "Not for long. What's up?" He slid the phone back into his pocket.
He sent the message then looked up at Debbie. "Sorry, Mom-"
Before Alex could finish, he was cut off by his phone. It buzzed and rang in his pocket. He reached in and pulled it out, his fingers still a little greasy from the croissant. He took a deep breath, and all sense of ease left him when he saw the word "Mom" on the screen. He screened the call, and the two of them finished their breakfast and coffee, then headed to the convention center.
They made their way to the seminar, which was rapidly filling up with people. The screen at the back read, "Shipping Containers, Micro Homes, and Communes: The Future of Real Estate?"
Alex pursed his lips as he sat down, reading the screen.
"You're making a weird face," Debbie said in a mock accusatory tone. "What is it?"
He turned to her. "Do you really think people will pay to live in a shipping container of all things?" he asked. "A commune I can understand. Micro Homes are nothing new. But, a shipping container?"
Debbie shrugged. "It's part of the environmental seminar series," she explained. "Like I said before, we need to be aware of what could come in the future. Brick and mortar homes could very well die out and we need to be prepared."
Alex shrugged his shoulders. While he was becoming more invested in the environmental housing trend, there was something strange to him about using industrial objects like shipping containers as the raw materials for building homes. He would never live in one, but he did question whether or not that was because he had grown up so comfortably in a big house. He flipped through the day's itinerary once more, trying to locate the speaker's name and biography.
Nothing too special, he thought. Good background in real estate, decent education, very knowledgeable in the field. Hang on a second, does that say what I think it says?
Alex looked closer at the "list of published works" section underneath the speaker's name and biography. One of the titles was a white paper published in a prominent real estate magazine, titled, "Popular Trends in Real Estate."
There it is, he thought grimacing.
His disappointment must have been evident on his face, because Debbie turned to him, looking slightly amused.
"You're not sure about it," she teased, smiling a little.
"And you are?" Alex asked, looking up from the brochure.
Debbie leaned in conspiratorially. "I don't believe they'll take off," she whispered. "They're a trend, but no real market value. A quick cash boost at most. Not something to bother with in the long term."
"I guess you're right," Alex said, leaning back.
The lecture hall filled up, and with less than five minutes to go before the seminar began, Alex felt his front left chest pocket vibrate. He pulled it out and saw that his mom was calling yet again. This was completely unlike her.
He must have looked worried, because Debbie asked, "Is everything okay?"
"It's Mom," he replied. "She normally doesn't call."
The lights dimmed as the speaker approached the podium, and the panel table filled with the experts, all dressed in neat-pressed suits and dresses.
"Answer it," Debbie whispered. "Family comes first. I can fill you in on anything you miss."
Alex considered it, but screened the call and turned off his phone.
"It can wait," he whispered back. "I'll call her during the lunch break."
Then, he settled into his seat as the speaker began.
The lecture went on for an hour, and by the end of it, Alex felt like he had been put through the ringer. He wasn't sure if that was because he was sceptical of the subject, the dry way of speaking the speaker had, or the lack of substance there was to the speaker's points. When the speaker concluded his lecture, and everyone clapped - Alex and Debbie along with them - Alex couldn't help but feel relieved.
That was brutal, he thought, suppressing a groan. Who would have thought that sixty minutes of a guy talking about something so basic could be so boring?
As everyone in the lecture hall was getting ready to depart for their next event, Debbie turned to him. Her face was scrunched up in thought, her gaze was direced toward the ceiling and her lips were pursed.
"What's on your mind?" Alex asked, standing up and grabbing his jacket.
Debbie looked at him. "I was just thinking -"
"A danger pastime, indeed," Alex quipped, grinning.
Debbie chuckled and shook her head. "I was just thinking," she continued, "that I feel like I could have watched a video online and gotten the exact same information."
Alex nodded as he slipped on his jacket. "That could have been more enlightening," he agreed. "But like he said at the start, shipping container homes are still a new phenomenon."
Debbie nodde, then stood up. "Still, something to consider?"
Alex shook his head. "No," he said. "Maybe for a quick cash boost and to chase the trend, but I think we're good on the brick and mortar apartment buildings for the time being."
"Let's hope that that remains the case," Debbie said, picking up her belongings. "Do we know where we're headed next?"
Alex checked his watch. "We have time before the next lecture," he said. "Coffee? Or tea?"
Debbie smiled. "Tea."
They left the lecture hall and went to a small cafe, where they each grabbed a cup of tea and went over their itinerary for the day. As Debbie was poring over the printout, Alex turned on his phone. Once it had booted up and loaded everything, Alex checked the screen.
His gut plummeted.
Missed calls: 17
Unread text messages: 29
All from Flora.
***
Flora understood why Alex wasn't answering. There had been a rift between them after she had brought up the truth about Justin's parentage. However, she had hoped their relationship was on the mend.
She didn't try calling him again, she knew he was busy in Paris, so she decided she would text him later in the evening. She just had to talk to someone else who knew about her weakness all those years ago.
Although she had gone shopping, she wasn't as laden down as she normally was. Only a few large bags, some of them were those "bags for life" made from recycled plastic and meant to be reused. She enjoyed using them because they made her feel like a better person. They sat in the back of her car as she cruised along the highway and came to a stop at the bottom of the road.
She sat in the driver's side seat, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she waited on the light to turn green.
[SFX: car door opening, closing]
Her head whipped around to the side passenger seat, where she saw a man dressed in black jeans and a blue shirt. He was about as tall as Alex, but looked far meaner.
"I'm a messenger from Lincoln Ambrose," he said in a gruff voice. "He says, 'I tried to warn you.'"
He looked up and Flora followed his gaze. The light had turned green.
"Drive," he commanded. Flora, her heart racing, pressed her foot down on the gas pedal, and began to drive. As she drove, the man continued to talk, "You're going to follow my directions," he said. "We're going to go somewhere together, where we're going to wait for Lincoln. Understand?"
Fighting back tears of fear, Flora nodded.
"Good," said the man. "Now, take the next right." Flora took the next right. "Good, very good. You're a good listener. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, don't you?"