Page 139 of Story of My Life
“I like that I makeyounervous. It’s payback for you making me?—”
“Come on, party council people! Who’s ready for some breadsticks? What what!” Darius interrupted from the terrace door, where he pumped his arms in the air.
I almost bared my teeth at the kid. I needed to know how Cam’s sentence was going to end. For research purposes.
Cam muttered something unintelligible and marched for the door.
I followed his broad, muscular back inside, wondering if I could pass him a note inviting him for sex after dinner. Maybe a text would be smarter?
Like any respectable woman, all thoughts of sex temporarily left my head when we walked into the private dining room and the smell of fresh bread hit me in the olfactory sensors. We took our seats at the round table. I sat between Dr. Ace and Erleen Dabner. Ace was in another colorful cardigan, and Erleen looked as if she’d just come from a Stevie Nicks consignment sale in long and layered black.
Emilie scowled at, well, everyone from her spot between Darius and Cam.
“Cheese and meat tray?” Darius offered, holding up the serving plate.
“Cut to the chase,” Cam said, kicking back in his chair. “Why are we here?”
“This better not be like that time you wanted us to get to know each other better and made us do a bunch of team-building exercises. My big toe still hurts,” Emilie complained.
“I’ll take the cheese and meat,” Erleen said.
“I was hoping to wait until the entrées were served before getting into it,” Darius said sheepishly. “Mac and cheese, fried chicken, mashed potatoes.”
Those all ranked high on the comfort foods list. I was starting to worry.
“No time like the present,” Ace said, tearing open a dinner roll and slathering it with butter.
“We’re broke. Who wants wine?” Darius offered.
I raised my hand. “That would be me.”
“What do you mean, ‘We’re broke’?” Cam asked.
Everyone else started slinging questions at Darius. I got up and helped myself to one of the open bottles of wine on the counter. After filling my glass, I offered it up. “Anyone?”
“People who drink wine are either snobs or drunkards,” Emilie said on a hiss.
“I’ll be sure to pass that along to Jesus,” I said under my breath.
Erleen took the bottle from me and filled her glass to the rim. “I pride myself on being a snobbish drunkard.”
“I knew things weren’t great budget-wise, but how exactly did we go broke?” Ace asked with an elegant wave of his dinner roll.
“With the mass exodus of residents over the past two years, the revenue we collect from property taxes was cut in half,” Darius began.
“Which is why we hiked property taxes,” Cam pointed out.
“Unfortunately, those hikes aren’t enough to cover the sewage treatment plant upgrade to increase efficiency and reduce environmental pollutants, which the county commissioners over in Dominion have ruled is imperative. I looked into what they’re asking us to do, and let’s just say we can’t afford the property taxes that would be required to cover the cost,” Darius said. “Who wants mashed potatoes?”
Everyone began talking at once.
I raised my hand. “Hi. New to this whole council thing. What happens if we can’t come up with the money?”
“I’m so glad you asked, Hazel. If we don’t upgrade the plant in the allotted twelve months, we’ll be facing some serious fines, which will further tax our shrinking budget, and we’ll be forced to declare bankruptcy. If that happens, there’s a possibility we’ll lose our charter and Story Lake will cease to exist,” Darius explained.
There was a strained silence as we all took it in.
“That’s…horrible,” I murmured.
