“Scooters aren’t allowed. At least not this variety. Kick scooters are allowed.”
Does he think I’m going to get around this place on a kick scooter?That is … well, they do have electric ones. I might actually like a kick scooter. I’m not trading in my Vespa for it, though.
“Can you point to the rules where it says scooters aren’t allowed?” I asked in a singsong voice. I didn’t think he would be able to come through.
“Yup.” He bobbed his head, his brutally pleasant smile remaining in place. Ned pulled out his phone, touched the screen twice, then held it up for me to see. He rattled off thesection and subsection of the resident rules for me just in case I was going to continue questioning him.
I pressed my lips together, debating. When I looked up, I found Brody watching me smugly. I wasn’t certain what I could do about that, but I hated the idea of him feeling superior. Actually, I hated the idea of anybody feeling superior.
“You’re not the police, though,” I said finally. “You can’t tell me what I can and can’t drive.” I thought I had him over a barrel.
Ned’s smile disappeared in an instant. “Young lady, when you signed the documents to live in this community, you acknowledged that our public safety department had authority over you.”
I did not remember acknowledging anything of the sort. “Well?—”
“No scooters.” He was firm.
I glanced at my Vespa, the first big purchase I’d ever made. At the time, it had represented freedom. Now everybody at the top of the ditch was looking at it as if it was somehow the enemy.
“Now, I’m not going to cite you,” Ned said. “You’re new to the community. You probably haven’t had time to read all the rules.”
I had news for him—I was never going to read all the rules. It just wasn’t going to happen.
“You have to make amends with Mr. Bates, here, first,” Ned continued.
I snapped my eyes in Brody’s direction, my nostrils flaring. “What does that mean?”
“It means you have to make sure he’s satisfied before I can let you leave here.” Ned was grave. “We take resident happiness very seriously in the Landings.”
I wanted to laugh at his grave expression. Instead, I flicked my eyes to Brody. “What do you want?” I growled.
His smile was the stuff food poisoning was made of. “I believe I need a mechanic to look over my cart and make sure everything is copacetic.”
“Copacetic?” I asked.
“No dents. It needs to be detailed.” He took a deep breath. “You need to pay for it to be towed up the hill too.”
I bit back a vile oath. I wanted to tell him exactly where he could shove that cart. But I wasn’t an idiot. Clearly, Hayley had been right about the rules in this place. I should have paid closer attention. Now I was in trouble.
“Of course,” I said. There was nothing else to say. Plus, well, I had caused the accident. I could only admit that to myself, never to him. “Just send me the bill. I’m sure Ned, here, can give you my address.”
“Absolutely.” Ned nodded. “I just need you to sign an acknowledgment of your culpability in the incident, and then you can be on your way.”
I smiled, but it was more of a grimace.
“Not on your scooter,” he added. “I can arrange for that to be transported back to your house, where it can remain in the garage. For a fee of course.”
“Of course,” I said sarcastically. “That sounds lovely.”
Ned either didn’t pick up on my mood or didn’t care. “It won’t take long. Then you can be on your way.”
“Awesome.” I shot him a cheeky thumbs-up. “This place is amazing. Has anybody ever told you that?”
“Each and every day.”
4
FOUR
