“So I let Kirkland here finish a job I don’t want done and for which I don’t have the money, or he sues me for interference with the performance of his contract and holds me up for a year on selling the house,” Carol said succinctly.
John pressed his lips together in silence. They both knew that was about the size of it.
“Thanks a lot, Kirkland,” Carol said sarcastically, and rose to go.
Kirkland, who up to this point had said nothing at all, rose abruptly and put his hand on her arm. Carol started and pulled back as if he had burned her. She looked up at him, riveted by the intensity of his gaze.
“I’m not trying to take advantage of you,” he said quietly. “I’ve hired extra men, cleared my schedule of other contracts, and invested a bundle in the materials for your job,” he said. “If I’m forced to stop it now, I won’t be able to unload the materials or get back the business I turned away. If you’ll just let me finish the job, I’ll take payment in the form of a builder’s lien against the property and you can pay me once you sell it. John says cottages like that one, so close to the water, go in a matter of weeks down at that end of the street. And you’ll get a lot more for it once it’s fixed up and modernized.”
“I see that you two boys have already figured this all out for me,” Carol said pointedly, folding her arms.
“It’s not like that,” Kirkland said softly.
“How is it?”
He closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again. “I know you’re a lawyer…”
“Not quite yet, Mr. Kirkland, and it looks like your busy little troop of hammering devils just may keep me from ever becoming one.”
“Look, Miss Lansing. I really don’t want to give you a hard time. Can’t we reach some sort of compromise?”
His tone was low, almost seductive, and Carol realized that, without seeming to, he was charming her.
“Like what?” she said warily.
“I could adjust my schedule and work from eight to four so you could sleep an hour later in the morning every day,” he said reasonably.
“And the noise?” she asked archly.
He sighed. “I could use electric staple guns instead of hammers, pad the windows and doors while we’re there, to muffle the sound, and do the noisiest roofing at the end of the day when it won’t be as disturbing to you,” he replied.
Carol glanced at John, whose expression said, He’s trying, isn’t he?
Carol looked back at Kirkland, who was waiting tensely, his tall frame motionless.
“All right!” Carol said, throwing up her hands.
John grinned, and Kirkland permitted himself a half smile, his light eyes warming just a little.
“Why do I feel that I’ve just been outgunned?” Carol said wearily.
“Not ungunned,” John said. “Merely enlightened. You’ll make a tidy profit on the house once it’s renovated, even with the costs of the work deducted.”
“John, I understand that,” Carol said, holding up her hand. “But my concern at the moment is having a quiet place to study during the summer, not becoming a real estate profiteer.”
“I’ll do everything I can to help you study,” Kirkland said evenly, and Carol looked at him again.
It seemed that he meant it.
Carol nodded resignedly.
“Can you two shake on it?” John said genially, obviously relieved that he wouldn’t have to take legal steps to resolve their differences.
Kirkland extended his hand, and Carol reached out to grasp it. His palm was callused and work-hardened, but large and warm. Her fingers disappeared into it and then he relaxed his grip. She snatched her hand back hastily.
There was an awkward silence, then John said briskly, “Well, I’m glad we were able to come to terms on this. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get home—my wife will probably carve me up with the roast.”
Kirkland shook hands with John, glanced once more at Carol and said, “I’ll be back at your house at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow, then,” and left.
John packed his briefcase as he said, “Wait just a moment, Carol, I’ll walk out with you.”
Carol paused as he punched a button on his phone and then picked up his keys. She walked beside him as they left his office and he stopped to lock his door before proceeding down the steps that led to the street.
“How are you getting along, Carol?” John said. “You must miss your dad.”
“I do, but I’ve been so busy I don’t think his absence has really sunk in yet. Since I was away at school I really didn’t see him much, just talked to him on the phone.”
“Ever hear from Gloria?” John asked warily.
Carol shook her head. “She’s afraid that I’m going to contest the bequests to her in my father’s will, but I don’t plan to do that. She can keep whatever he gave her as long as I never have to see her again.”
“No love lost there, I take it.”
Carol shrugged. “When I saw that she was depositing my father’s money in a bank account with her name on it, I was not favorably impressed.”
John nodded. “I think that’s why he never told me about his renovation of the cottage. He was afraid I would attempt to talk him out of it.”
“Why?”
John glanced at her nervously.
“Tell me,” Carol said levelly.
John shrugged. “I think he planned to give the place to Gloria once it was redone. He just happened to die before he changed the provision in his will that left the cottage to you.”
Carol was silent.
“I’m sorry,” John said gently, “but I thought you should know in case she comes sniffing around, offering up witnesses to testify about his intent to give it to her.”
“Are there any?”
John shrugged. “Who knows? But I don’t think she’ll get anywhere. Any judge in the world would determine that she has already been well compensated for her period of ‘companionship.’ If she does file a complaint I don’t think it’s likely to get past a preliminary hearing. I just wanted you to be prepared for the possibility.”
Carol nodded. She wasn’t worried about Gloria; all Gloria wanted was money, and so more money would make her go away. Carol was much more concerned about passing the bar exam.
They had reached John’s car, a green BMW sports car, and as he unlocked it he said, “Why don’t you come home with me and join us for dinner? Beth would love to see you.”
“Thanks, John, but I’d like to get back to Strathmere. I still have unpacking to do and I want to be ready to hit the books early tomorrow.”
“Okay, but you have to give me a rain check.”
“I will.”
John tossed his briefcase onto the passenger seat of his car and slid under the wheel. As he started the car Carol said suddenly, “John, what do you know about this Taylor Kirkland?”
The older man squinted up at her as he adjusted his seat belt. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, he’s going to be on my property every day all summer, isn’t he?” she replied obliquely.
John thought a moment. “He’s a local boy, quiet, minds his own business. He built that construction company up all by himself from what I hear.