4. Paul #2
I looked up. Burke was standing on the other side of the counter, his wife Margaret at his side. Perched directly on Burke’s shoulder was a fat, gray squirrel, chewing aggressively on a peanut.
Georgia blinked, staring at the animal. “Is that… a squirrel?”
“This is Barnaby,” Burke said proudly. “He’s a rescue.”
Margaret shook her head, pulling a twenty-dollar bill from her purse. “Don’t get him started on the squirrels. He’ll talk your ear off for the next two hours. He’s got a thing for them.”
Burke reached out and tapped the wooden counter. “Georgia, I remember you from years ago. Your grandpa was a good man. I used to stop here every year. Ate so much pie I had to loosen my belt three notches. It does my heart good to see this place open today.”
Georgia swallowed hard as she bagged up a large blackberry pie, handing it across the counter.
“Thank you, Burke,” she said, offering a strained smile. “I’m missing him right now. Enjoy the pie.”
As they walked away, I asked, “Are you okay?”
She leaned against me, and we slipped into a quick side hug.
“Yeah. It’s just a little emotional. I remember how much this stand meant to my grandparents. And seeing how many lives they touched is hard.”
“Better to have good memories than bad ones.”
She let out a tiny laugh. “You’re right about that.”
I noticed the empty space on the display rack and the mob descending on the stand. A few new cars had pulled in, and people looked hungry. “I’ll go grab the last batch of pies from the house,” I told her.
“Thanks, Paul.”
I walked up the hill to the old house.
It had good bones. I hadn’t ever been in it before, but I could see how well-constructed it was. It needed a new roof, sure. And the plumbing might be a job. But this old dame had plenty of life left in her.
I grabbed the remaining pies from the kitchen table, balancing the boxes carefully against my chest, and headed back down to the roadside stand.
As I approached, I spotted a silver car parked on the shoulder. It was fancy for these parts, and freshly washed.
Huh. Whoever it was, they weren’t from around here.
A man in a crisp polo shirt and khaki slacks was leaning against the counter. His hair was heavily gelled, and he wore a pair of expensive-looking sunglasses.
I slowed my pace, my boots crunching quietly on the gravel.
Maybe it’s the real estate agent.
“Georgia, I’m telling you, this is a phenomenal offer,” the man was saying.
He was polished. A real smooth-talker. “My clients love the acreage. They don’t care about the state of the house.
But we need to lock this in today. They’re looking at another property over near Prairie Woods this afternoon. ”
“Sean, I told you on the phone, I can’t just sign this blind,” Georgia said. Her voice was firm while she was busy ringing up a customer’s lemonade.
I set the pie boxes down on the counter, studying the man.
Something about him got my hackles up.
Sean tapped a manila folder on the counter between them. “There’s nothing to read, really. It’s a standard cash offer. Above your asking price. This is more than you wanted. There’s no reason not to sell. All you have to do is sign on the back page, and you can get back to your… bake sale.”
I felt my jaw lock, and I had to resist the urge to go He-Man on his ass.
“Give me the contract,” Georgia said firmly, handing the customer their change.
Sean slid the folder across the counter. “I really need to get going, Georgia. I’ve got an open house in one hour.”
My gal had a backbone of steel, which I was happy to see. She ignored him, flipped the folder open and started reading, her eyes scanning the dense legal text. I stepped up beside her, keeping my mouth shut as I took over at the register so she could focus.
I didn’t know anything about real estate, but I knew the look of a rat when I saw one.
Georgia flipped to the second page. Her finger traced down a paragraph, and she suddenly stopped. Her spine went rigid.
“A ninety-day closing?” she asked, looking up at Sean.
Sean shifted his weight. “Standard procedure to get the funds arranged.”
“It says it’s a cash offer, so I don’t see why we would need a closing date that far away,” Georgia countered.
She flipped the page again. “And what is this? A contingency clause for an inspection and repairs? I told you I’m selling this property as-is.”
“Well, yes, but no buyer’s going to take on a structure this old without some assurances—”
Her eyes widened as she continued reading. Then she gave him a hard stare. The look in Georgia’s eye shut him up.
“Interesting clauses you have here, Sean. An assignment clause? Seriously?”
I rang up a blackberry pie for Cash and Iris, hardly pretending I wasn’t listening in.
Sean pulled out his phone. “I’ve got to make a call.
I’ll be right back. Read it over, Georgia, and get ready to sign.
It’s a great deal.” He started peddling his song and dance to whoever was on the other end of the line.
He paced off into the field as he talked, and I turned my attention back to Georgia.
“What’s going on?” I asked quietly.
She turned to me, her eyes furious. “It’s a trap.
If I had signed that, I would have been legally locked in for ninety days.
Three months of paying the property taxes and the electric bill on this place, all while being unable to entertain any other offers.
And that contingency clause means his buyers could demand fifty grand in repairs right before closing, and I wouldn’t have a choice but to negotiate or start the whole process over.
Basically, they aren’t real buyers. They’re trying to flip the contract for profit. ”
I didn’t know jack shit about real estate law. But I knew my woman was pissed. Which meant I was pissed.
A low, violent burn flared hot in my chest.
I stepped closer, resting my hand against her back.
“Don’t sign it unless you’re a hundred percent comfortable.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, Paul. This guy’s not getting one over on me.” She leaned into my touch, grounding herself against me.
Sean jogged back up to the counter, clicking a silver pen. “All right. Just right there on the bottom line, Georgia.”
I kept my mouth shut and my hand on her back.
Georgia didn’t need me to fight this for her.
She just needed to know she wasn’t standing alone.
I stared directly at Sean. I didn’t say a word. I just let the silence stretch, letting the dead, flat look in my eyes do the talking.
Sean stopped clicking the pen. He swallowed hard, his eyes flicking nervously between me and Georgia.
Georgia slid the folder back across the counter.
“I’m not accepting this offer, Sean.”
“Georgia, be reasonable. They’re offering over asking, and you know this place is going to be hard to sell. It needs so much repair work that—”
“I said no,” she cut him off, her voice ringing out clear and hard. “The property’s being sold as-is. And I’m not locking myself into a ninety-day assignment contract. Bring me some real buyers or go home.”
Sean sputtered, “These are real buyers.”
Georgia snipped back, “I know what an assignment clause is, Sean. Coupled with the contingency clause?” She scoffed. “I’m not about to sit around for ninety days when the buyers can walk for any reason without penalty. Don’t even try to explain the upside to me, because there isn’t one.”
I noticed how the southern drawl slipped back into her voice when she was angry. Her cheeks were flaring hot, and she had venom in her eyes. I’d always loved a powerful woman who could stand up and fight a good fight.
Pride burned in my chest while I rang up the next customer. At this point, we were going to be out of pies in the next twenty minutes.
“If they want this place that bad, they can submit a clean offer without any hidden clauses. Otherwise, we’re done.”
That was my cue to puff out my chest a little.
He opened his mouth to argue more, but caught the look on my face and promptly shut it. He grabbed the folder, shoved the pen in his pocket, and retreated back to his car.
The silver sedan kicked up dirt as it pulled roughly onto the road.
Georgia let out a shaky breath, her shoulders dropping.
“You did good,” I murmured while I squeezed her arm lightly.
She looked up at me, the fury fading into a weary, genuine gratitude. “Thanks for standing there. I think it helped.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I rumbled. She didn’t need me to thump my chest at him. But I would if she ever wanted that from me.
“He better not hold back on any other offers,” Georgia said.
“If he does, we’ll just sic the whole logging camp on him.”
She laughed at that, her frown lifting off her face.
I turned back to the next customer, my blood still running a little hot. I was damn proud of her for catching the bad terms and standing her ground. But as I rang up Martha Ellis, I realized something else entirely.
Georgia wasn’t selling the property today. She was staying right here. And that meant I had more time.