“That we’re going to make a great commission?”
She shrugged. “Well, yes, but also that Bramblett is going to finally get its much deserved spot on the map. Heck, maybe we’ll even get a mention on the news stations when they talk about the weather for a change.”
“That would be kind of nice.” The news stations in Atlanta never mentioned us, they’d say the North Georgia Mountains, but not Bramblett County. They’d just started mentioning Forsyth County, but not consistently.
Come on, this is huge. Be excited.”
I was, sort of. The phone rang again. Belle snatched it up right away, but I would have preferred it had gone straight to voicemail. I knew Bramblett County, and most of the residents weren’t pleased with the addition of the mixed-use development already, and knowing Carter Trammell’s unit caused a stir like a bidding war would likely send them into a tizzy of hurricane proportions. I had half a mind to get in my car and drive past that Quik Trip and straight to Alabama just to avoid the bomb I knew would explode when word got out.
* * *
I spoke with Carter’s sister Ryann over the phone. She lived in Chicago and planned to handle everything via electronic signature and FedEx. The excitement in her voice held a hint of nervousness, too. “I’m not sure how to deal with this kind of thing. I’ve never dealt with something like this before. Then again, I’ve never been the executor of someone’s will, so why would I? I don’t even own my own place.”
“I know I’ve said it before, but I am so sorry for your loss, Ryann. You know I wish this wasn’t happening.” I hadn’t dealt with any kind of bidding war before either, but considering I was the professional, I did what any professional would do before I called her. I Googled it. Of course I’d had multiple offers on the Redbecker property originally, but they weren’t bidding above the cost, and it was just different. Toss in the fact that the bids all dropped because of the incident involved with the Redbecker property, and things didn’t compare at all. Also, none of those offers were cash, and each of the ones for Carter’s townhome were. The Hot-lanta bigwigs, as I’d grown to call them, liked to deal in cash, and that was fine by me.
Less paperwork, quicker commission payout.
Some information however, I didn’t need to Google because it was standard operating procedure for the market, and I explained it to Ryann. “What’s most important to know about the offers we have so far is that each has an escalation clause, and dependent upon the offer, the cap price of those clauses vary anywhere from ten to twenty thousand.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Basically, the best offer you have on the table, right now, will get you over five-hundred and seventy-five-thousand for Carter’s townhome.” I let that sit in her head for a moment, and then I said, “What I’d like to do is set up an open house for the weekend and allow agents that haven’t made offers to come view the listing—only agents—because I have a feeling the offers will increase, though you’ll probably lose a few that can’t compete. And you’ll definitely get more.”
“So, that could mean more money for the scholarship?”
“Depending on how the will is set up, of course, but possibly.”
“Carter would have loved that.”
“I thought he would, too.”
“You’re the expert. I say go for it.”
I wanted to thank her for saying that, but I didn’t want to sound like I didn’t believe it to be true, even though I wasn’t feeling all that expertise I should have learned in school. “Great. I’ll notify everyone that’s made an offer that you’re reviewing your options, and that in the meantime, we’re opening up the listing for other offers just in case. So, I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thank you, Lily, for helping, and for being so great about Carter.”
“It’s my pleasure, Ryann.”
And it honestly was.
* * *
Dylan, my fiancé and the county sheriff, wasn’t surprised about the bidding war situation. As we walked along the path at the park, my Boxer mix Bo galloping along ahead of us ready to burst with excitement knowing the dog park was just around the corner, Dylan held my hand and gave me his thoughts. Calm was Dylan’s number one emotion, and one I wished I could imitate.
Mine, at least in that moment, sat somewhere smack in the middle of mind blown and panicked.
“This isn’t a bad thing, Lily Bean. Don’t get all Lily Sprayberry like you do about it.”
I stopped and gave him the type of look a mother gives a toddler that’s done something mind boggling, like eat dirt. “I’m sorry, did you just say don’t get all Lily Sprayberry like you do? Is that what I heard?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The side of his mouth twitched, and normally, I’d find that endearing, and though I tried not to then, too because I wanted to be sassy, I caved. The mouth twitch got me every single time.
Close enough to dart to the park and know he wouldn’t get a lecture, Bo hit the ground running. Caitlyn, the woman that owned Blossom, Bo’s special friend, opened the gate for him. She waved hello to us. I waved back.
“Dylan Roberts, you’re lucky I love you because that has got to be one of the rudest things you’ve ever said to me, not including that time in high school you told me my hairstyle would have been best served on a Backstreet Boy.”
He smirked.
I poked him in the chest. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that.”
“Short hair isn’t a good look on you.”
“It was shoulder length, and it was the style.” I shook my head. “Anyway, that is not the point, and you know it. I have a right to be concerned about this. This kind of thing could be detrimental to the county, and you know it.”
“Progress? How is progress detrimental to Bramblett?”
We walked through the dog park entrance gate, and I plopped onto the bench with a huff. “Dear Lord, don’t call it that, Dylan. That’s a word straight from the devil to some here. Call it change, though change isn’t a favorite thing for Bramblett people either.” The pit of my stomach ached. I glanced up at the sky for the lightning I swore would strike me dead.
Okay, so yes, I might have taken the whole I’m cursed thing a bit too far, but who could blame me? People seemed to drop like flies around me, and that wasn’t good for me personally, or for my business.
My sweet fiancé sat next to me as I continued venting, or as he’d probably thought, whining. “You know how the people here are, honey. Our people don’t take kindly to change. Look what happened when the developer came in and bought up Myrtle Redbecker’s property. It tore up the town but good, remember that? And when they built on it, and all these rich swanky people with their expensive cars and their designer clothes moved here, that created a division in town. How many locals do you see using that dry cleaner or eating at those fancy restaurants?”
“Lily, I took you to one of those fancy restaurants last weekend, and we have rich people with expensive cars and designer clothes here in Bramblett.”
“We were celebrating our getting back together anniversary, so that doesn’t count because we only went to it since neither of us wanted to drive all the way downtown. And yes, we have those kind of people here, but they’re our people, and it’s Bramblett money. Money that’s been in this county forever. It’s not new money. You know there’s a difference, at least here there is.”
He laughed. “You really get your Southern girl goin’ on when you get all in a huff, you know that?”
I ignored him and he kept talking.
“So, what’s it matter if one more of those uppity families comes in? It’s the last townhome available, so why’re you in such a tizzy over this all of a sudden?”
“Because the Redbecker property isn’t the only hot spot in town, Dylan, and you know it. You know there’s other properties that’ll be coming up for sale soon, and those big mixed-use developers have their eyes on Bramblett. You can bet they do. When word gets out that this bidding war happened, that Bramb
lett is a hot commodity, they’re going to eat it up, and we’ll be the next Milton and Alpharetta Georgia, and nobody here wants that.” Bo brought me a ball, and I whipped it across the park as far as I could, which wasn’t far at all, but he didn’t care. He was just happy to run. “Do you really think that’s what the locals in Bramblett want? And when it happens, and trust me, it’s going to happen, who do you think they’re going to blame?”
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “They’re not going to blame you.”
“Oh yes they will, because I’m the number one realtor in town, and I’ll make money from it.”
“The only thing constant is change, right? And people know that.”
“Did you just get all psychology 101 on me?”
He smirked. “I might have retained a lesson or two from that class, so maybe.”
“Well, stop it. It’s sassy. And besides, I know that, but this is small town, North Georgia. No one here cares about psychology. They care about tradition. They care about traffic, the It’s Fall Y’all festival, over-crowding, and the five minute drive to Millie’s for a coffee and scone.”
“You sound like a politician.”
“Bite your tongue. I will never dip my toe into that pond, and you know it, so hush. I’m just worried we’re traveling down a one way road, and we won’t be able to turn around. I fear for Bramblett’s future.”
“Well, if you don’t want it to happen, then what do you plan to do about it?”
I leaned my head onto his shoulder. “I’m not sure there is anything I can do about it, because unfortunately, I think you’re right. The only thing constant is change, and things definitely are changing. I just hope it doesn’t send the town into a tizzy. I don’t want that on my shoulders.”
“It’s not your cross to bear, Lily.”
“Well, I feel like it is.”
* * *
News traveled fast in small towns, and even faster when the news wasn’t good. What surprised me most, even though it shouldn’t have, was how those people I’d considered at least casual friends, suddenly unfriended me in real life.
As I suspected, everything was my fault, and I was evil incarnate because I’d pushed the button on progress in town first with the sale of Myrtle Redbecker’s property, and then with Carter Trammell’s townhome bidding war. Because I’d been labeled the person intent on ruining Bramblett County, three people I’d briefly considered inviting to my not yet planned but pending wedding to Dylan, had banned together and scheduled an impromptu meeting to Stop Lily and Atlanta from kidnapping Bramblett. They’d even made up signs with the phrase plastered all over them.
“Great,” I said.
Belle and I sat inside Millie’s Café but had stuffed ourselves into a corner table as far away from the main window as possible. It wasn’t far enough though, and I wasn’t immune to the gaping stares and snarls of people walking by on their way to work or wherever they were going. I flinched every time someone waved their sign or their fist at the window. “My Lord. Can you believe this? They hate me.”
“They don’t hate you, Lily. They’re just angry.”
“Did you see that sign? It said Off with Her Head, Belle. What am I a witch?”
She place her hand on top of mine and laughed. “Bless your heart. Sweetie, that was the backside of the sign. That’s Jimmy Barrett. His momma was the lead in the county play last year. The one about the Salem witches? We saw it together, remember? They used those signs in the play when they had the trials. He just didn’t flip it the right way because he didn’t see you, honey. They do not want to slice your head off with the guillotine, I promise. At least not yet, anyway.”
I wished I could joke about it, too. “Thanks. I feel a lot better now.”
She settled back into her chair and sipped her steaming hot coffee. The aroma of the hazelnut wafted toward me, and I had to admit, comforted me a touch. “Well, you’re welcome.”
“But what about you? You’re part of Bramblett County Realty, too. Why isn’t your name on the signs?”
“I don’t know, maybe because I’m not the agent of record on the listing?”
“But you’re my business partner.”
“The devil is in the details. You know that.”
“What am I going to do? What are we going to do? If I go down, the business goes down.” I pointed my finger at her. “You know that.”
“That I do, but don’t worry, sweetie.” She waved her hand at me. “You know how these things go. They’ll pitch their little hissy fits, have their say, and then they’re off to their next worst thing ever, so don’t worry. It’ll be forgotten in no time.”
I stared at my friend. “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve called me sweetie like, I don’t know, five times already? You never do that, and you’re accent is extra heavy. You sound like you’re straight off the farm.”
She flattened the folds of her pastel yellow cardigan sweater, which I realized was new. I gave her a solid once-over, checking for any other signs of oddness, and I found two more.
“And you’re wearing a pale yellow sweater. You hate yellow. And you’ve tucked one side of your hair behind an ear and bobby pinned it. I didn’t even know you owned bobby pins.” I bent down and snuck a peek under the table and gasped. “Are you ill? You’re wearing stilettos!”
She smiled, showing me the straightest, whitest teeth in town. Something was definitely up.
“And you whitened your teeth. Belle Pyott, what in tarnation is wrong with you?”
“Why Lily Sprayberry, nothing is wrong with me. I just decided it’s high time to experience the finer things in life, so I went and got myself some new clothes, and a teeth whitening, and I got on Instagram last night and checked out some new hairstyles. What do you think?”
Last night? It made sense then. Belle wanted to mimic the wealthy Atlanta woman personality, and she’d nailed it. If I knew my best friend as well as I thought I did, I’d say she did it to prove some kind of point to the townies about being all judgy and such. “I think I know exactly what you’re doing, and I love you for it.”
She shrugged and opened her mouth as if she hadn’t a clue what I meant. “Why Lily, you must be confused.” She winked and sipped the last of her coffee. “Now, let’s get our butts to that meeting and see what our newest enemies have planned.”
“There’s my Belle.”
“Hey, don’t let this bad hairdo and these completely uncomfortable, but totally adorable shoes fool you. Your salty bestie is still here buried under this mess of persnickety wealth and leisure.”
“You forgot to mention the yellow cardigan.”
“Heavens, this thing is going to Goodwill as soon as this mess is over. You know how much I hate it?”
“I have a feeling.”
“Well, multiply that by ten thousand, and you’ll be close. Now come on, let’s go.”
I wasn’t looking forward to being the witch on trial.
Chapter 2
Nothing was ever what it seemed in Bramblett County. We walked outside of Millie’s Café that early spring Friday morning to the sound of cardinals chirping and blue birds calling. The fresh scent of azalea bushes floated through the air, and I shivered from the caress of the chilly breeze as it whispered lightly against my skin. Not a soul was left on our county square, and one might think it was because all was right within Bramblett, that they’d started their day, gone to their jobs, schools, homes, or wherever they belonged, without a care in the world. But that wasn’t why the sidewalk was bare. It was because they’d all already gone by and were stuffed into the box of a library down the street just waiting to pounce like predators in the night on yours truly, their prey.
I didn’t feel as tough as even the weakest prey in the Georgia mountains, and just going inside that library sent shivers up and down my spine. I’d had an experience there not too long ago, one that I’d never forget.
I stood outside the fron
t entrance gathering my resolve. The last time I was there, I almost died, and Belle had nearly, too. “I don’t want to go in there.”
“It’ll be fine. They won’t bite.”
“No, it’s not them. I mean, yes, it’s them, too, but I…aren’t you freaked out by this place now?”
“Sweetie, this place has freaked me out since I was a kid. All those book reports? Please. Almost dying is nothing compared to those.”
“I should have worn extra antiperspirant for this.”
Belle hooked her arm with mine. “Come on. We’ll be fine in there, and you shouldn’t worry about these people. We’re one big happy family here in Bramblett County, right?”
“As if.”
“Well, I’m fixin’ to open up a can of Belle Pyott on them, and show them how sorry they are for crossing my best friend, you can bet on that.” She flung open the door and hollered, “We’re here. Let’s get this meeting started, y’all.”
The entire lot of them flipped around and stared at us with hardened, angry eyes.
“Oh, this isn’t going to go well, I can feel it,” I whispered.
Magnolia Cleveland, angst driven resident number one, stood proud, front and center at the head of the crowd. “Well, look what the cat drug in everyone, the county destroyer herself, and she brought her little sidekick along for security. Isn’t that just sweet as cherry pie?”
Belle whispered into my ear. “Magnolia Cleveland’s running this thing? Okay, you can sweat now if you want.”
“Oh, I am, and like a whore in church.”
She laughed. “Come on, we got this.” She’d been balancing the library’s main entrance door on her hip, but we pushed forward and she let it slam behind her.
I spied Dylan and Matthew, the deputy sheriff, who also happened to be Belle’s significant other, with their backs plastered stiff against a side wall near the top of the crowd, giving themselves a full circle view of the entire room. When Dylan saw me, he gave me a quick nod, and I knew he had my back. Not that I was concerned he wouldn’t.
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