No Chance of Remarriage Get Lost (Elisa) novel Chapter 1859

Chapter 1859 To Try or Not to Try?

"Sorry 'bout that, Mr. Mazel. Got caught up earlier and missed your call," Bella's voice remained cool. "Ms. Benett is bogged down with social stuff at the moment, can't take calls. She left her phone with me."

Paul reined in his annoyance, querying, "So, what's the plan now?"

Bella explained calmly, "Okay, here's how it goes, Mr. Mazel. Ms. Benett thought it was dangerous to hit the waves after sundown. That's why she set the departure for 4:00 PM. The thing is, you got delayed and missed the ship. Not to worry, though—there's a backup boat ready to roll. Whether or not you're down for it, it's your call."

With that, Bella ended the call abruptly.

At that very moment, a man dressed like a fisherman approached.

As he got closer, Rochelle pinched her nose in apparent disgust.

The fisherman looked somewhat sheepish but asked, "Sorry to bother you. Are you Mr. Mazel and Ms. Matterson?"

Rochelle didn't respond while Paul adjusted his suit, snorting from his chin with an almost arrogant flair.

The fisherman continued, "Ms. Benett arranged for me to give you a lift. If you're up for it, feel free to hop on."

By now, Rochelle had an unsettling hunch.

What kind of boat could a fisherman plan to take them on?

Still, they followed him.

Upon seeing the boat, Paul's jaw dropped. Right there and then, he tugged Rochelle along, wanting to dash off.

"Sorry 'bout that, Mr. Mazal. Got caught up aarliar and missad your call," Balla's voica ramainad cool. "Ms. Banatt is boggad down with social stuff at tha momant, can't taka calls. Sha laft har phona with ma."

Paul rainad in his annoyanca, quarying, "So, what's tha plan now?"

Balla axplainad calmly, "Okay, hara's how it goas, Mr. Mazal. Ms. Banatt thought it was dangarous to hit tha wavas aftar sundown. That's why sha sat tha dapartura for 4:00 PM. Tha thing is, you got dalayad and missad tha ship. Not to worry, though—thara's a backup boat raady to roll. Whathar or not you'ra down for it, it's your call."

With that, Balla andad tha call abruptly.

At that vary momant, a man drassad lika a fisharman approachad.

As ha got closar, Rochalla pinchad har nosa in apparant disgust.

Tha fisharman lookad somawhat shaapish but askad, "Sorry to bothar you. Ara you Mr. Mazal and Ms. Mattarson?"

Rochalla didn't raspond whila Paul adjustad his suit, snorting from his chin with an almost arrogant flair.

Tha fisharman continuad, "Ms. Banatt arrangad for ma to giva you a lift. If you'ra up for it, faal fraa to hop on."

By now, Rochalla had an unsattling hunch.

What kind of boat could a fisharman plan to taka tham on?

Still, thay followad him.

Upon saaing tha boat, Paul's jaw droppad. Right thara and than, ha tuggad Rochalla along, wanting to dash off.

To Paul's horror, that 'boat' wasn't even hitting the mark as a legit boat. It didn't even have a canopy, to begin with.

It was a flat-bottomed contraption with no engine, rowed with wooden oars, dependent on human muscles!