Page 45 of I Knew You
The land we were building on had come from my maternal grandfather. His father had once owned half our little town, and my grandfather inherited it at a young age. He’d sold much of it off. When he eventually passed away, four years ago, I inherited five acres of land on the main road of Mill Creek, adjacent to the small city park, along with a tidy sum of $500,000.
Over the years, I’d used the $500,000 to pay for MCA operations, the house I was standing in, and the surrounding land of the adjacent valley. My last $100,000 had secured the massive loan I needed to build the community center.
Who did my father have in his pocket to make the officials change their minds after I’d been issued verbal reassurances and official permits? I knew he had the police force in his back pocket, but was the town government as well?
The back door opened with a creak. Lakey bounded through the mud room and into the kitchen, tongue and tail wagging.
“Getting kind of brisk out there.” Julianna’s voice echoed into the kitchen before I saw her, and her presence changed everything. It was as if the sun had pierced through the fog that had clouded my mind. I drank her in as she walked over to the breakfast table.
Would I ever not be stunned by her unyielding beauty?
“I saw you outside,” I admitted, reaching down to pet Lakey, who panted happily.
She looked up at me from where she sat at the table and paused from unzipping her boot. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” I was a terrible liar. I ran my hand through my hair. “I’m upset about some stuff going on.” I mulled over the facts and tried to decipher which ones I could share and which I needed to keep secret.
“What happened?” Her furrowed brow showed her worry. Meanwhile, I stood there, arms crossed, leaning against the counter and deciding what to lie about.
Don’t be an asshole.
“You can tell me. I’m a vault. Anything I can help with?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s my dad. He approached some people in town, and they called to tell me he was making mischief. Not even sure what he was doing in Mill Creek.”
You are a lying asshole.
“Does he make ‘mischief’ often?” She put the word in air quotes.
“He’s a professional at it,” I murmured. “Just set me off.”
“I know you’re not telling me the whole truth, for the record.”
I sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to weigh you down with my problems. You’re going through so much.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want to share my issues with her, but I didn’t want her to feel like she needed to be concerned with me and my problems.I didn’t want her to scheme ways to help me when I was supposed to be helping her.
“It’ll feel better if you spill your guts. Misery loves company.” She smiled up at me.
I mulled it over. If I wanted to support this woman, I needed to be transparent. I knew the saying: to have a friend, you have to be a friend.
I sighed. “I was building a community center for MCA, the nonprofit I told you about. It’s something I’ve dreamed of for a while. My grandfather left me some land in town, and it’s the perfect spot. Ground broke this week. Now, I’ve been told I can’t build there because it’s too close to Mill Creek Park. So, unless I can change someone’s mind, I’ll have to back out of the build. I’ll still owe partial payments to the contractor for the dirt removal they did and the materials they’ve bought. Then I’ll have to find other land and buy it, which is much more money than I can afford. The project will be dead.”
I watched her absorb my words, chewing her lip.
“So what are your choices? What if you could find another spot to build? Maybe someone else would be willing to donate land?”
“Unlikely, seeing as this roadblock is my father’s doing. And he has his hands in everyone’s pockets.” I got a glass from the cupboard, unable to look at her lest my face give away more than I was willing to tell.
“Why would he want to stop it?” I turned around just in time to see her brows lift. “Oh, I see. Because this whole foundation had to start because of him, and so now he’s pissed you’re a part of it at all.”
“Exactly.” I reached into the fridge, pulled out a soda can, popped it open, and poured the contents into the glass.
“Money talks. Where can we find more money?”
“We?” I said, handing the glass to her. “Wewill not be finding anything. This isn’t your problem, sweets.”
She looked into the glass.
“How did you remember I prefer a Coke in a glass with no ice?”
