“Can I help you?” Nana said.
“Of course.” Henry was about thirty years old, a couple of years older than my sister Donna. He’d kind of bugged her in high school, if I remembered right, even though she’d been a sophomore when he was a senior. He pulled a folded envelope out of his breast pocket and walked around me to hand to my Nana.
She took it and looked down. “What in the world is this?”
“You’ve been served,” he said, putting emphasis on the last word. He grinned, showing a missing incisor. “Got a new job finally.” He looked me over again, then walked out of the shop, shutting the door behind him.
“Served?” Nana asked.
I turned and took the envelope from her, opening it and scanning it quickly. “Yeah. Gloria is suing you.” They must have drafted these up this morning. “This is insane.”
Nana leaned closer. “What does it say?”
“She’s suing you for intentional infliction of emotional distress,” I muttered.
“Huh?” Nana asked.
How could she? “She claims your act was outrageous and caused humiliation. She’s alleging you added lotion to her pie yesterday and embarrassed her in front of everybody.”
Nana snorted. “Outrageous? She’s the one who’s outrageous. Connor’s right. I bet my lotion made her pie taste better.”
“That is not a defense.” I slipped into lawyer mode. “Second, she’s suing you for fraud, saying you knowingly tampered with her pie to deceive the judges and secure a win.”
Nana’s mouth dropped open. “Fraud? I don’t need to cheat to win. I’ve won the last two years in a row.”
“That’s because you’re the better baker. By far.” I flipped over the page. “Then there’s intentional interference with economic expectancy.”
She frowned. “What in the world does that mean?”
“I haven’t seen it before.” I continued reading. “But it means she thinks you intentionally ruined her chance to profit from the contest.” I slowly nodded. “I can see it as a cause of action. Whoever wins the pie contest really does get marketing all year in different publications and doorways and at events.”
“That’s true.” Nana blinked. “So she’s suing me for ruining her chance for marketing? She would’ve never won.”
I folded the papers. “I agree, but it’s still a lawsuit and you’ve been served, which means we have to respond. We have to file an Answer.”
“She is out of her blessed mind,” Nana said. “I should hex her.”
I lifted a hand. “No hexing. No curses. When I go into the office later today, I promise I’ll type up an Answer.”
“Can I sue her back?” Nana pursed her lips.
I considered the notion. “Not really. I mean, you could say she’s defaming you, going around town telling people you sabotaged her pie, but honestly, it was your lotion, right?”
“Yes,” Nana said begrudgingly.
“All right, so we’ll figure this out. Don’t worry. I don’t think she has a case.”
Nana wiped dust off her hand. “If she does, how much could she win?”
I winced. “She’s claiming twenty thousand in estimated lost, and noneconomic damages estimated at ten to fifty grand, and of course there’s punitive damages.”
Nana paled. “What are punitive damages?”
“That’s to punish somebody for doing something wrong,” I said. “But don’t worry. This isn’t going to happen. We’re going to figure this out.”
“Who is her lawyer?”
I sighed. “Somebody I don’t know. His name is Zippy O’Bellini.” I’d never heard of the guy, which was odd. Maybe he was out of Spokane, licensed to practice in Idaho and Washington, but to have gotten to this so quickly? Didn’t make sense.
