Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“I can tell. You stink.” She collects and shuffles.
The fact that Garrett had any clue how to play in the first place shocked me. By the way Shirley’s pencil-drawn eyebrow arched when he asked her to deal him in, it surprised her too. They’ve played five rounds, Garrett listening quietly while Shirley won each game in between mouthfuls of cheesecake and berating him for all that’s wrong with the direction Polson Falls is heading, including his project.
I’ve sat quietly, the enthralled spectator.
“I know what you guys did, taking advantage of a loophole. You and Gump. How much did it cost you to grease that inspector’s pockets?”
“I assure you, there was no greasing of any pockets,” Garrett says calmly.
“Everything Gump touches is greasy,” she mutters. “And you’ve got buckets of money to spend on that sort of thing.”
He leans back in his chair, folding his hands on the table in front of him. “Between you and me, I don’t like the guy, but your town elected him, so I need to play nice. It benefits me to do that. But it also benefits you.”
She deals another hand, throwing his cards at him. “How do you figure?”
“Because I can be an ally.”
She snorts. “Is that what you call being an ally? Tearing down our history? No, thank you.”
“We have a fair amount of influence, which means there are things we can do.” He collects his cards, studying his hand. “Like that park, for example. You said you’ve been asking the town to improve it for years and they’ve done nothing?”
“Gump claims they’ve got no money.”
“Like you said, HG has buckets of it.” He smirks. “So what if we revitalized it?” He swaps a card out and collects a fresh one. “Replaced the trees and park benches, put in a better playground. Add a few gardens and walking paths. And a plaque to honor your local poet. Hugh Whitman, is it? How does that sound?”
Shirley tosses away a card. “That sounds like a bribe.”
“It’s only a bribe if there are strings attached.”
“I’ve heard this song and dance before. A developer pulled the same stunt over in Rottersburg. Promised to replace an old bridge people been complaining about for years and got approved for their big condominium project because of that promise. The condo’s been finished for five years, and guess what’s not fixed yet?”
“The bridge. RGI Corp. Yeah, I heard about that one.” Garrett shifts his cards around. “That’s not how HG operates.”
“That’s how all you guys operate. You see wrecking balls and dollar signs, and you get erections.” She slaps a throw-off card onto the table. “What about your Revive Project? No strings tied to that town meeting?”
“None. I’m there to request approval on a small variance. Barely six inches”—his gaze cuts to me, reminding me of the last time we had this conversation—“and the council will approve it.”
“There are some things Gump can’t squirm his way out of, and you and I both know it. Due process and all. Isn’t that why you’ve been out, kissing babies and enticing people with park benches?”
The corners of Garrett’s mouth twitch, but he schools his expression. “Like I said, this isn’t a bribe. I’m going to revitalize that park, anyway.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” she mutters.
“You will see it. And you’ve seen my plans for my building—”
“Haven’t, and I’m not interested.” She smiles at him, like she’s about to tell him something she knows he doesn’t want to hear. “An appeal from the public will stall your project for months, maybe more, depending on how hard we fight. And I’ve got a lot of fight left in me. Condominiums do not belong on our town’s Main Street. End of story.”
His jaw tenses, the first sign that he’s frustrated with her stubbornness. “An appeal isn’t ideal, no. Not for me and not for the town’s residents, who will be looking at a boarded-up building, or worse, a fenced-off hole in the ground, for longer than necessary. I don’t think that’s what you want for your town either.”
The two of them stare at each other over their respective hands, one measuring the other as a viable adversary.
I can’t help but admire how Garrett is handling himself.
“Five minutes until bingo,” Nancy drones, shaking her cowbell five times.
Shirley folds her cards. “I think that’s enough politicking for one night. I’ll see you at the meeting, developer.”
He sets the cards neatly on the pile, taking this for what it is—a dismissal. “Thank you for giving me some of your valuable time.”
She grunts in answer but then after a moment adds, “The sweets were a nice touch, I’ll give you that much.”
He smiles, climbing from his seat. “I can’t take all the credit. That was Justine’s idea.”
My jaw drops at his blatant lie. “It was not. You little—”
“Have a good night, ladies.” He strolls away.