“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.
Tank’s jaw flexes. “Great. We’ll be there with what paperwork we need.”
“Good luck with that.” Billy laughs and gives us a little jaunty wave.
But when Tank takes one step his way, Billy turns and heads back to his shiny Mercedes.
“I’d like to asphalt over his car,” I mutter. Especially now that I know he dated Lindy.
Tank pulls out his phone and scrolls through before settling on a number.
“Who are you calling?” James asks. “And what are we going to do with all this asphalt?”
“I got the name of a developer from another retired player a while back. This guy is based out of Chicago, but his firm did some work on a town in East Texas. Maybe they’d be willing to do a consult. Clearly, I underestimated the complexity of this.”
The foreman chooses that moment to approach Tank. The kicker of this whole thing is we can’t just return the asphalt. It’s hot and ready and needs to be used.
“What a waste,” James mutters, running his hands over his face. “All of it is just a waste.”
He stomps off, and Tank and I let him go. Honestly, when I see James heading toward the silos, my spark of hope at his involvement grows into a tiny flame. The circumstances are not the best, but I’m happy to see my eldest brother starting to get emotionally invested, even if the emotion he’s feeling is despair.
That’s step one: having feelings. Step two: total domination.
“I’m beginning to wonder if James is right,” Tank says. “Maybe this is a waste. Of time, of money, of energy.”
I put an arm around his shoulders. Well. As much of his shoulders I can get my arm around. An idea begins to take shape in my mind. “It doesn’t have to be.”
“The town or the asphalt?” he asks.
“Both. For today, we’re just going to worry about today’s problem. And I’ve actually got a very good idea of exactly where that asphalt can go.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lindy
With the hearing inching closer, I find myself soaking up every second I can get with Jo. If some of this time also coincidentally keeps me out of the house and away from Pat’s magnetic presence, so be it. Triple bonus if it includes shakes from Sonic.
Mari may think tacos solve life’s problems—and they do—but milkshakes can brighten the darkest day. Sonic doesn’t have the BEST shakes in the world, but they’re more than acceptable, and if you’re lucky, they’ll be delivered to your car by someone on roller skates.
“You could always get a job here, Win,” Val says, taking a long sip of her shake and eyeing the teenage boy skating away in skinny jeans.
City council informed Winnie after their special meeting this week that her services are no longer needed as secretary. It makes sense, seeing as there’s no mayor right now, but it also leaves her temporarily jobless.
Winnie’s financials have been a little unsteady since college. She has a boatload of student loans, and when her dad died, he had run up bills of his own, which didn’t leave much for her and Chevy. My friends and I are a really sad example of living the post-college dream, one thin paycheck at a time.
Winnie makes a face. “Thanks, but no thanks. I hung up my skates after college.”
I glance at Jo in the back seat next to Winnie. She’s never this quiet. Clearly she’s just giving her peanut butter cup milkshake all her focus. Once the straw hits the bottom and the sugar hits her bloodstream, I’m sure that will change.
“Maybe you could work for Pat’s dad or something,” I suggest. “He’s got all these big plans for downtown.”