In truth, Paisley reminded me of myself. Like me, she hadn’t had a lot of money growing up, and she was smart to the point of being diabolical. She had big dreams but was afraid to embrace them. Much like her, all I’d ever thought about when I was a kid was writing a book. I’d spent all of my tweens and early teens jotting down story ideas in notebooks. My mother, while untethered as a parent, had encouraged me to follow my dreams. That was the one thing she’d been good at.
And look at me now, I mused. I had everything I ever wanted, including my first house. I could decorate it however I wanted. Unlike when we were moving around constantly when I was a kid, I could actually put things on the shelves. No longer would I see something in a window, consider how cool it wouldlook as a decoration, and then leave it behind because moving it would be a pain.
No, I was going to buy things now. I cast a disdainful look at the golf cart.Just not ridiculously expensive carts that literally only do one thing.
Paisley came back two minutes later. “There’s only one female sales associate. She’s finishing up with another couple. They just moved into the Landings too.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“I have no idea what that means,” I said blandly. “Do you not like them?”
“They look like WASPs.”
“Like … they have fake wings or something?”
She laughed. “No, like white Anglo-Saxon Protestants. You know, WASPs.” She made air quotes.
“Oh.” I wasn’t certain I’d ever heard of that before. I understood the underlying meaning, however. “Basically, you’re saying they have sex in the missionary position for four minutes tops.”
She threw back her head and laughed so hard it made me smile. “That is exactly what I’m saying.” She wiped the mirthful tears from her eyes. “Her finger has never been anywhere near his butt.”
My mouth fell open as I looked around to make certain nobody had overheard her. “You can’t say things like that in here,” I hissed.
“I just did.” She was blasé. “Don’t act so shocked. That’s the mildest thing I’ve said all day.”
On that, I didn’t doubt her. I went back to looking at the cart because it seemed like the thing to do. “I’m a little angry that I have to buy one of these things. I had my IP attorney look over the contract?—”
Paisley raised a hand to still me. “You had your intellectual property attorney go over your contract with the Landings? Isn’t that a bit like having a Kardashian give a seminar on not being an attention whore?”
I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing. “Something like that,” I said when I was reasonably assured I could speak without laughing. “Frank is a good guy. He knows how to read a contract. He says I signed away my rights to ride my scooter in the Landings when I put my name on the dotted line. Then he reminded me that only idiots sign a contract without having someone read it for them.”
“For once, I agree with Frank,” Paisley said blandly.
I glared at her. “It’s crap, if you ask me.”
She waited, probably knowing I wasn’t close to being done.
“I asked Frank to break down anything weird he found in the contract,” I continued. “I offered to pay him, but he could read between the lines and knows what I have planned. He offered to do it for free but only if I run every revenge scenario I have through him before I do it.”
“Revenge scenario?” Paisley’s eyebrows hiked as she leaned over the golf cart and rested her elbows on it. “Do I even want to know what that means?”
“Well, there are stipulations in the contract,” I explained. Frank had sent me a detailed email, although I knew another one was in my future. “Like … lawn gnomes are out unless they’re in the backyard and not visible from the road.”
“Excuse me?” Paisley looked flabbergasted. “Who has a thing against lawn gnomes?”
“The Landings doesn’t like clutter apparently.” I frowned. “I can’t have an auxiliary building if I already have a garage, so no she sheds.”
“Do you want a she shed?”
“I didn’t until I found out I couldn’t have one.”
She bobbed her head as if she understood. “What other weird stuff is there?”
“I have a pool, but it can’t have a slide or a diving board. I didn’t want either of those things until they said I couldn’t have one. No music that’s audible to neighbors after eight thirty.”
Paisley’s eyes went wide. “Eight thirty?”
“Yes, they live it up in the Landings,” I agreed dryly. “No political signs.”
“You’re not political.”
