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“That too.” MRM wasn’t an ideal fit, but there hadn’t been a lot of options six years ago for an attorney who’d had to restart in a new town with virtually no connections. She was just starting to feel like she had a solid book of business and was wary about risking it solo or giving it up to go in-house. MRM, as a firm, had a solid reputation, decent infrastructure, great support staff, and associates like Brynn who would make a difference one day.
“You’re good, CC.” Al’s compliment drew her back to the present. “I may have bled all over your draft APA, but that’s tactics. You do good work for your clients.”
“Thank you.” She leaned forward, forearms on the desk, taking the opening to get them back on track before she was as bright red as the sweater she’d grabbed out of the closet that morning. “But my clients have problems, plural, it sounds like.”
“Easy, medium, or hard?”
That didn’t sound good. “Give me the medium.”
“Rail lines. You got a copy of the survey in here?”
“Yep.” CC rose from her desk, retrieved the survey from the stack of rolls in the corner, and unfurled the oversize paper on the round table tucked into the windowed corner of her office.
Al stood beside her, leaning over the survey and pointing at the unused spurs that ran across the back corner of Tchin Tchin’s lot. “Title company is refusing to insure over these this time.”
“If this is medium, I fear hard.” Chasing down anything from rail companies was a bitch. “And how is this only medium?”
“Because I have a contact whose entire job is to chase down easement releases. Will cost the sellers, though.”
CC righted herself and leaned a hip against the table. “Why does the buyer need this? Those lines are a relic at the back of the property. It’s not like the rail company is going to resume use, they don’t interfere with access, and there’s no encroachment by the Tchin Tchin building or any neighboring building.”
Al mirrored her posture, arms crossed. “Keeping our options open for future expansion.”
Last week’s sliver of worry returned—not yet a full-blown wave, but an undertow nipping at her heels. What exactly were the Dotsons going to do with this property?
Before she could press, Al carried on. “You didn’t let Jen and Etienne close without coverage when they bought the property. We’d take the title coverage if they’d give it, but they won’t.”
“Fine, get the release.” It would be a costly hassle, but one that would serve everyone’s interest in the long run. “Okay, what’s the hard problem?”
“Your specialty. Transfer of the liquor license.”
CC left the survey on the table and returned to her desk chair. “We already started the paperwork.”
“Yes,” Al said as she reclaimed the guest chair. “But we need wiggle room on the capacity.”
The undertow grew stronger. She’d been in New Orleans long enough to be wary of a brewing riptide. “To go with your expanded facility?”
“Hence the hard part. You got a contact?”
“Y’all don’t?” This wasn’t the first whiskey brand Dotson had purchased.
“Our contact is in enterprise distribution. This will be the first tasting room Dotson is operating.”
“So they intend to keep it?”
Al eyed CC curiously, like she’d suddenly grown a third head. “Of course they intend to keep it. They want to expand production and distribution, but with a high-end product like Tchin Tchin, Bo intends to show it off. This is what he’s been after for some time.” She curled her fingers in air quotes and hilariously imitated her client’s Southern drawl. “Completes the collection.”
The undertow eased, the riptide threat passing. “I’ll make a call,” CC said before rotating toward her computer and maximizing Al’s revised APA. “Which brings us back to your bloodletting.”
Al chuckled as she leaned back and folded her hands over her middle. “We’ll get there, but that’s not the easy problem.” Her dark eyes sparkled, that mischievous glint CC remembered from the airport and from Dram the other night begging the question.
“All right,” CC said. “I’ll bite. What’s easy?”
“I’m hosting first night dinner for Hanukkah on Thursday night, and I have no idea where to find everything I need.”
“Like what?”
“A menorah, to start.”
