With asphalt, we’ll be done in a day. I like that kind of timeline. I’m surprised how quickly things are starting to take shape. My loft is set to be done late next week—that is, if all the cabinets and appliances come in on time. The crew even finished installing built-in bookshelves in the second bedroom for Jo.
Not that Lindy wants to move out of the farmhouse, but I figure it’s a good backup.
Despite her protests, I’ve been able to fix up a few things since I moved in last week. But little fixes aren’t enough. I didn’t like what I saw underneath there when I fixed the trellis under the porch the other day. The pier-and-beam foundation had a distinct lean to it and there are cracks in the support pillars. I didn’t mention it to Lindy, who still gives me a dirty look every time she finds something new I’ve fixed. （Though I’ve also seen her enjoying the fruits of my labor.）
The whole thing needs a massive overhaul, from the foundation up. The house doesn’t look to me as though it would pass inspection. If needed, the three of us could move to the loft temporarily while we get the house up to code. Or even build a new, bigger house on the property. But as I am wont to do, I’m getting ahead of myself.
“This looks like trouble,” James mutters.
I see Billy Waters ambling over in a suit, looking as pleased as spiked punch at a high school dance, and I have to agree with my brother. He had the same look on his face when Judge Judie handed down my sentence in court.
“Who’s the suit?” Tank asks.
“Like James said, trouble. Specifically, that’s Billy Waters, a member of Sheet Cake’s first family and a lawyer.”
Billy must have hearing like a bat because he adds, “I also used to date your sudden wife. Congratulations are in order, I guess. Surprised to see you back from your honeymoon so soon. Oh, right. People don’t take honeymoons for fake weddings.”
Lindy dated Billy? I want to punch his smug face more than ever. James locks my arm in a tight grip, even though the ankle monitor is a great reminder I need to keep my cool. As if to prove the point, my ankle chooses that moment to start itching like mad.
“Thank you for the well wishes,” I tell Billy, my grin a little bit more like baring of teeth. “Now, what brings you out here this fine morning?”
“I am also a member of city council. And it’s on that authority I’ve got to stop you from any further work on the roads.”
Billy offers us a breezy smile and a pink piece of paper. Pink slips are never good.
“I don’t understand,” Tank says, and James grabs the slip from him, squinting down at it with a frown. “I own the town. I can pave the roads.”
“Ah,” Billy says. “See that’s where you’re wrong. I know you’ve got permits for the construction inside the buildings, but roads constitute public works, and that’s a whole other ball of wax.” Billy winks at Tank, his voice changing to one that’s even more patronizing. “I know it’s probably complicated for someone like you. Put in the simplest words with the fewest syllables, you’ll have to bring a proposal before the city council.”
I can practically feel the anger coming off Tank in hot waves. Based on the low growl I hear from James, the three of us are on the same page of this book.
“Where and how can I submit a proposal?” Tank asks, and though he’s lost that Christmas morning smile, he’s still got grit and determination.
Billy’s smile widens, like a snake about to unhinge its jaw. “You have to do so in person at a city council meeting.”
“When’s the next meeting?” I ask.
Billy rubs his clean-shaven jaw. “Let’s see … I guess in about a month. The date is on the website.” It’s clear he knows the specific date but isn’t going to make this easy on us.