Page 9 of Ropers Can't Tie Knots
“If you need to ask me something as a lawyer, it remains confidential if that helps.”
He exhales slowly and places the pencil on the table. A single finger plays with the rim of his glass.
“I’m not very good at asking for help.” He says quietly. “But Jackson told me I could trust you and that maybe…maybe we could make a deal.”
I don’t know Hunter well, but I know Jackson since he’s my best friend’s boyfriend. Jackson is a man of his word and a wonderful soul. If he’s urged Hunter to ask me for help, it’s only logical for me to assume I can trust Hunter that way, too.
“I’d be willing to do that if you tell me what you need help with.”
Far too much time passes as he sits in silence. His gaze remains on the mess of paper in front of him. For one flash of a moment, my legs coil to burst out of my chair and hug him. Thankfully, I don’t act on it, but the need to want to comfort him remains, even though I don’t know why.
Finally, he nods and reaches for a manila envelope sitting nearby.
“I’m not very smart about legal stuff. My grandfather’s will is complicated. He left two trusts. One deals with the property hereand the livestock. I just got that one sorted.” He gestures to the piles of paper on the table. “This is fallout from that. But the second trust for the residual estate…I don’t understand it, and the lawyer here wouldn’t help.”
“Why wouldn’t a lawyer help you?”
With another heavy sigh, he leans back. “He doesn’t like gays.”
Hunter delivers that bit like he’s used to saying it, and while it’s still common to encounter, it enrages me all the same.
“Sounds like this town needs a lawyer like me who doesn’t have any prejudice, then.”
Hunter finally passes me the envelope. “If you could help me figure out how or if I can even access the residual, you don’t need to pay me any rent.”
“That’s a generous offer, Hunter, but figuring out a will doesn’t cost two months’ rent.”
“I won’t allow you to do it for free, Gabe.”
His stern tone makes that clear, and I appreciate that, but I can’t in good conscience take his deal for a task that will probably only take a few hours.
“How about this? Let me look it over to get a feel for how much work is involved. If I feel two months’ rent is fair, I’ll accept or…I’ll counter with something else.”
I’m not ashamed to admit I let the words hang as my gaze raked over him there in his own dining room. He already knows I’m interested, and I’m curious if he’d sell himself out or not. Is it a bit sleazy? Of course, but I kind of want to know how he’ll answer.
“You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not usually. I’m trying to respect your space and not make you feel uncomfortable in your own home, but you cooked me dinner,and you’re sitting here without a shirt. A guy has to shoot his shot, and make it known I’m open to other forms of payment.”
Hunter stands and walks to my end of the table with his now-empty glass. I smell it now, peach-flavoured whiskey, and that seems like a perfect fit for him. “I won’t enter into a deal for sex, Gabe.” He leans in, lips close to my ear. “When I have sex with you, it won’t be out of obligation, but because I want to.”
“Noted.” Also noted, he saidwhen…notif. That’s a victory for me. Not that I would ever make a deal for sex, but Hunter at least admitted he’s attracted to me.
He takes my plate and nods towards the envelope. “I’ll clean up and let you have a look. Take as much time as you need. I never gave you the house tour earlier because I thought you’d be down before supper, but the living room is comfortable.”
Without another word, he leaves for the kitchen, and I head towards the sunken living room off the dining room. An overstuffed chair sits under an old Tiffany light with a view out the large picture window. I imagine Hunter here with his whiskey after a long day, and I hope he doesn’t mind me taking what must be his favourite seat.
The document he handed me has some heft, and immediately from the first page, I conclude two things. First, the lawyer who did the will is an asshole out to make money before protecting a man’s legacy and two…Hunter’s grandfather was loaded.
He’s right, though. There are loads of unnecessary stipulations here, and I’m just skimming the first trust.
“Hunter? Do you have a notepad and a pen I could borrow?”
He enters the living room and lifts the lid on the ottoman next to me. “You should find what you need in there.”
“Do you want a second opinion on the first trust, or skip that?”
“If you need to read it to understand the second one, I’m not sure.”
