“Excuse me, ma’am, but this is a hardware store, not a courthouse. You’d be surprised how often people make that exact mistake though.”
Eleanor narrowed her eyes at Garrett, who was lookingfartoo pleased with himself over that joke.
“Hardee har har, mister,” she said dryly. Then she spread her arms. “I take it to mean that you think the outfit is a bit much, then?”
He looked her over. “You could probably stand to lose the blazer,” he allowed, taking in her extremely professional outfit. “It’s a small-town clerk’s office, not actually going to court.” Then he gave her the expression that Eleanor always thought signified a blush hiding behind his beard. “You look real nice though.”
Now she blushed, with no beard to hide it.
“No distractions,” she chided. “I’m getting ready for battle.”
She brandished her file folder which had, by her reckoning, every bit of paper that anyone could ever need when it came to proving that she was legally allowed to keep working on her house and open her bookstore.
It was, she knew and as Garrett had hinted as she’d worked on it late into the night, possibly atinybit overkill. But Eleanor didn’t care. She didn’t care if Winnie Burnett had good intentions, bad intentions, or no intentions at all. Eleanor was more concerned with the effect than the cause. And she simply could not bear the worry any longer. Shehadto know, once and for all, that she would be permitted to keep working.
So she’d gathered all the paperwork, all the town codes and the state restrictions, and she’d highlighted all the areas relevant to her project. She’d printed everything in duplicate, so that she and the clerk could both have a copy. She’d checked and double checked that everything was complete and correct.
And then she’d checked it again for good measure.
“The Magnolia Shore town counsel isn’t going to know what hit ‘em,” Garrett said.
She let a tiny bit of her bravado drop, showing him her true feelings.
“I’m just worried,” she admitted. “I feel like I have every permit on the planet. But I don’t have a PhD in town law like Winnie does.”
“Wouldn’t that be a JD?” he mused. When he saw the look on her face, he quickly backpedaled. “Not that it matters. What matters is that you have everything. You did your research. You’re going to get it all sorted and good to go. And then your bookstore will be a huge success.”
“Good pep talk,” she said with a grateful smile.
“Anytime. For now though, are you ready to go?”
Eleanor supposed there was no use stalling any longer. She tugged the buttons on her shirt to make sure none were threatening to slip loose. Shedidabandon the blazer, in the end. It was summer, after all, and the jacket was a little too warm. Besides, she still felt like she seemed serious enough in her shirt and slacks.
She and Garrett made a funny pair as they walked down the street, her in her dressy business clothes, him wearing his regular flannel, t-shirt, and worn jeans combination. Even so, she felt immeasurably boosted by his presence at her side.
When they arrived at the municipal building that held most of the town’s official business, including town council meetings, the historical society’s offices, and the clerk’s office, Winnie was already inside, as if she’d been waiting for them.
This was ridiculous, Eleanor told herself the second the thought crossed her mind. Winnie had no way of knowing that Eleanor planned to come in this morning. If anything, it was the opposite. Eleanor knew that there was a historical society meeting that morning, and Winnie was one of the most vocal members of the group.
Eleanoralsohad it on good authority, which was to say, from Miriam, who knew everything, that Winnie tended to linger after these meetings.
To meddle, Eleanor assumed. She didn’t care if this was uncharitable. She was right and truly annoyed with Winnie.
“Oh, Eleanor, hello,” Winnie said. “How are you this morning?”
Shesoundedfriendly enough, but this only put Eleanor on her guard. Maybe that was a cover up for some strange reveal yet to come, like Winnie’s hand in passing a law that made bookstores illegal on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every third Sunday.
This was probably ridiculous too, but Eleanor wasnottaking any more chances. Her fat folder of paper showed that.
“Good morning, Winnie,” she said. “I’m good, thank you. I’ve come in to submit all the paperwork to make absolutely, one hundred percent sure that there is no issue with any of the construction or zoning for my bookstore.” She paused meaningfully. “Or for the fence.”
Winnie’s eyes went wide with surprise. Eleanor couldn’t decide if she could trust that expression or not.
“Oh, well, that’s splendid,” Winnie said. Then she held out a hand. “I can review it for you.”
Eleanor clutched her folder to her chest like she feared Winnie might try to snatch the folder from her fingers. “It’s for the clerk to review, thank you,” she said primly. She had the distinct sense that Garrett, who was standing silently at her back in a show of support, was amused by all this. “I read it in the town bylaws.Onlythe clerk is responsible for confirming the validity of the paperwork.”
An expression flashed across Winnie’s face. Annoyance? Or something else? Eleanor couldn’t be sure.
