Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
He smiles once more and pivots on his foot to leave.
“Stay off my property,” I say, and I know it’s lame. So lame he doesn’t even flinch, just casually walks away while whistling, “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah.”
I curse in frustration, crumbling the document in my hand as I march back to my house. He’s not going to get away with this.
Ugh, he’s insufferable. Cocky, arrogant, and gloating is not a good look on him.
Okay, that’s not true. Even at his worst, he’s still drop-dead gorgeous, but that doesn’t lessen how much I despise him. He’s become my dream crusher, and I’m not going to let that happen.
Back inside my house, I call the general contractor and explain these new developments. He confirms what I suspected and says there’s no sense in doing anything further until I get this situation worked out. I then call John and tell him that the trees will have to wait.
I’ll be damned, though, if I’m going to wait around for some hearing that’s even yet to be set.
I head into town, everything on my list of errands forgotten for the moment, and drive straight to the law offices of Theodore “Teddy” M. Dupree, Attorney at Law. He’s the lawyer who handled the loan closing on my property as well as got it rezoned to add commercial usage. He’s the very man who assured me the easement would suit my needs to build my studio.
His office is located directly across the street from the beautiful, three-story, white courthouse located in the historic district. Built in 1853, it’s a combination Greek revival with some Victorian elements, yet it’s the massive octagonal cupola that makes me stare a bit when I walk by.
I had to take architecture courses in college, and I love studying and sketching unique buildings. I actually painted the courthouse when I was eleven as a present to my great uncle who was a lawyer practicing in Potter County, but he’s been dead a few years now, and the painting came back to me. By my current artistic abilities, it was crude—the only training I’d had was gentle guidance from my father, also a painter. I really should paint it again and maybe frame them together to see the progression of my talent.
I whip into a spot right in front, scramble out of my car, and hurry straight into the attorney’s office.
“Hi, Mrs. Dupree,” I say to the woman behind the desk. It’s Teddy’s mother who answers the phones and checks in his appointments. “I need to see Teddy.”
“I’m sorry, Tillie, but he’s gone for the rest of the week.”
“Where?” I exclaim, gripping the crumpled document in my hand.
“Vacation, sweetie. Is there something I can help you with?”
“This,” I say, holding out the gnarled injunction. “I need help.”
Mrs. Dupree plucks it from my fingertips and smooths it on her desk. She’s not a lawyer—only gave birth to one—but I find some measure of hope in the fact she’s reading it carefully.
When she lifts her head, I’m not inspired by the confusion I see there. “Well, I’m not sure what this means, dear, but I’m sure when Teddy comes back, he’ll sort it all out.”
“When does he come back?”
“Not until Sunday.”
“But… but… that’s four days away.”
I get a sympathetic yet stern look. “Technically, five days as he won’t be back to work until Monday.”
“Ugh.” My frustration has me hovering between tears and an angry snarl, neither of which this sweet woman deserves. I take the papers back from her. “Can you maybe call him? Ask him what it means?”
“Tillie,” she says kindly. “Is this really an emergency that you would want me to bother Teddy on his vacation?”
Why, yes I do, Mrs. Dupree. Your son was a terror growing up and bullied me constantly. He was part of the in crowd, two years older than me, and wasn’t a kind boy. It never made sense because his parents and grandmother were all very nice.
The only reason I hired him to do the loan closing was because he was the cheapest. He’s just four years out of law school and only recently hung out his shingle as a solo practitioner.
Admittedly, upon my first meeting with him about the property purchase, I happily noted he’d grown from the bully I remember. He’s now, first and foremost, a businessman, and my fees would help him keep the doors open. Life in a very small town can be hard on anyone trying to sell services as there’s usually more supply than demand.
Tucking the papers in my purse, I offer a thin smile. “No… I don’t want to bother him on his vacation. Maybe if he calls to check in, you could just ask him and let me know. Otherwise, I’d like to make an appointment to see him on Monday.”
Mrs. Dupree clucks her tongue, flipping through a written calendar book. “I’m sorry, Tillie. He’s booked solid on Monday. Has to be in criminal court all morning and then has two loan closings in the afternoon.”