Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“I’ll tell her you said so.” I wave as I walk toward the door. “Bye, ladies.”
If they can get the contract done and Chrissy can keep from doing anything stupid, this might actually work out.
Chapter 23
WREN
This is never going to work.
The contract is nearly done, which should be a good thing. Two signatures—Francine’s and Chrissy’s—and we can get to work at Township again. But getting to this point has shown where Chrissy’s priorities lay, and her lack of experience shows.
After arguing with Chrissy about the electrical lines for hours and getting that sorted, and then getting past the aesthetic changes she wanted to make, denying almost all of them, we finally got down to the nitty-gritty of the actual legal aspects of the contract, which left Chrissy bored and needing even the simplest of things explained. And to be honest, that’s Oliver’s job as her attorney, not mine.
At that point, Oliver suggested she stay away for the remainder of the contract discussion and let him work on her behalf. That was remarkably helpful because, since then, we’ve made major progress.
Thanks to Oliver’s bullheaded negotiations stopping me at every turn from adding clauses to financially favor the city, the contract is pretty evenly matched as far as favoring Chrissy or Cold Springs. I wouldn’t admit it aloud, but that part has been a tiny bit enjoyable, reminding me of strategy sessions and head-to-head debates in law school. What we’ve come up with is similar to the contract the city held with Jed, with a few changes to reflect that Chrissy’s new ownership is unproven, so she’ll be subject to frequent check-ins by city inspectors, multiphase deadlines, and meetings with the city development board.
But though the contract is rock-solid, it all centers on Chrissy making good business choices and correctly overseeing a huge build, things she has basically zero chance of doing. And that’s going to affect Township and Cold Springs.
Closing my eyes, I tilt my head to the right and left, stretching my neck after staring at my screen for so long. This conference room is starting to feel like my second home, and my body is paying the price of playing hostess to Oliver with ordered-in lunches, chairs that are fine for a meeting but not to sit in all day, and fluorescent lights that buzz with a low hum that started driving me crazy hours ago.
Suddenly, I feel hands on my shoulders, massaging the tight muscles, and Oliver rumbles quietly, right in my ear, “Tense?”
I jerk away in surprise as my eyes fly open. Stonily glaring at him, I say, “No. I’m fine.”
Oliver falls into the chair beside me, so close that his thigh touches mine. I shift, crossing my legs away from him. “Guess we should get to the two last clauses?”
That’s all we have left—review the final page, do our individual read-throughs, and pass the contract on for signatures. “Actually, I was hoping you’d allow me the pleasure of using your brain,” he says, turning the charm up to one hundred and smiling like my brain isn’t all he wants. “You know, for fun.”
As an attorney, I know better than to blindly agree to anything. Especially with another attorney. “What do you have in mind?”
He glances at the flashy watch on his wrist and says, “It’s late, and we’ve been at this for days. On top of that, I’ve been working on the divorce decree in the evenings. You could say I’m burning the Benjamins at both ends.” He chuckles at his own joke about his hourly rate, which I’m sure is astronomical. I can’t imagine how much he’s charging Chrissy for on-site, twenty-four-hour, personal attorney services. Whatever it is, there are probably extra line-item fees for hotel, food, and per diem too.
Considering I’m a salaried employee of the city, he’s making significantly more than I am just sitting here. Which I’m sure is why he does what he does, but money isn’t why I’m a lawyer. “Mm-hmm,” I answer, not cracking a smile.
“I was hoping you might give the decree a once-over for me? Confidentially of course, but strictly off the books. No responsibility, no blame, and no credit.” He winks like that’s somehow a favor . . . to me. “I’ve been staring at it so long, I’d like to be sure I didn’t miss anything, especially given Jenkins’s reputation.”
Curiosity is the polite term for nosiness, so I’ll admit that I’m curious as hell about what’s in that divorce decree. But not enough to spend hours staring at a contract tonight, poring over it when I’ve already been doing that all day on another contract. Plus there’s the complication of Oliver himself. “I don’t think that’s va good idea,” I say gently.
Instead of taking the refusal politely, he doubles down, speaking more forcefully. “You’re not understanding. I would really appreciate it if you’d look this over. Make sure there’s nothing unexpected.”