“How lucky you were here when I dropped by.” Her narrowed gaze hasn’t lessened by even a fraction.
“Wasn’t it?” I agree, my smile still in place. “Please fill me in on why it is you’ve come to visit Ms. Craft today.”
The woman crosses her arms and glances to Louisa. “I have a client who’d like to buy the land this business is operating on. He’s willing to pay more than this place is worth.”
I nod. “I’m sure you heard Ms. Craft tell you it’s not for sale?”
She raises an eyebrow. “I’m not hard of hearing, Mr. Sterling.”
My own eyebrows pull together in a disbelieving way. “Why is it you’re asking twice?”
“I’m giving Ms. Craft the opportunity to rethink her initial response. Money talks. People often require a second, third, or even fourth chance to reevaluate their initial decision.”
“Chance? Is that code for coercion?”
The woman makes a clucking sound with her tongue. “Be careful throwing around such powerful words.”
I ignore her issued caution. “Who is your client?” I ask. I’m really starting to dislike this lady, whether she’s just doing her job or not. She has come here to make an offer, yes, but she’s really here to force the issue if she’s rejected by Louisa. What if Louisa weren’t as keen as she is? What if she was confused by legalese and said yes to an offer she didn’t agree with just to make her head stop spinning? I’m infuriated by the idea of an older person being taken advantage of just because their mental acuity may not be sharp.
“Brandywine Developers,” she answers. I don’t know who they are, but they must be a big name client, or she wouldn’t have that hint of pride in her voice.
I look to Louisa. She doesn’t look so stricken anymore. Some of the color has come back to her cheeks. Which reminds me that I still haven’t figured out the reason for the gasp from Louisa that sent me to the front door in the first place.
“What was it you said that appeared to upset Ms. Craft?”
The woman adjusts her shoulders, a pleased look creeping across her features. “Local government is prepared to step in on behalf of Brandywine should Ms. Craft deny purchase and—”
I snort. I can’t help it. The sound stops the lady short of finishing her sentence. “Don’t begin talk of eminent domain.” I wave my hand around. “You, and anybody with functioning eyesight, can plainly see the recent work done to update this property. Blight is not an issue, nor is it a problem for any surrounding properties. Eminent domain has no place here. And neither do you.”
Gently, I guide Louisa back from the open door.
“Goodbye, Ms. Campbell. I sincerely hope we don’t see you again in this capacity.”
I close the door. Louisa turns to me, her hands cupped around her mouth and her eyes wide with astonishment.
“You were incredible!” She throws her arms around me, taking me by surprise. She steps back after a moment but keeps her grip on my upper arms. “Are you really a lawyer?”
“I am. But I’m not licensed to practice in this state, so I can’t actually represent you.”
Louisa wags a finger at me. “You are good,” she says, then peers around me. “Wasn’t he good?” she says to someone who is not me.
I turn around and see Addison standing on the bottom step of the stairs. She wears a long yellow skirt and a silky-looking white top.
“How long have you been standing there?” I ask. It’s her question from last night, and I wonder if she’ll recognize that.
She smirks, and I’m pretty certain she does. “Long enough to know you can talk circles around someone.”
This could be a compliment, but coming from her, I just don’t know.
I’m too hungry to take on verbally sparring with Addison right now. Turning back to Louisa, I ask her if Uber or some other car service will come out here. From what I can tell, we’re a little over twenty minutes from the town. “I’d like to see Lonesome,” I explain, not wanting to disclose that actually I’m starving. She’d probably insist on making me food, and I don’t want to add to her workload.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” she answers, side-stepping me and going to stand in front of Addison. “Before you came in for breakfast, I asked Addy to go to the grocery store for me. She wouldn’t mind being your tour guide, would you, Addy?”
Addison gives her grandma a long look, then drags her gaze over to me. “Sure,” she finally answers.
She doesn’t sound unhappy, or even put out. Wary. That’s how she sounds.
“Great,” I say, already heading toward the door that leads out of the house and to the cabins beyond. “I’m going to grab my wallet and I’ll meet you out front.”
