Libby gave her a look of concern. Hope had figured she’d get that from most people, so she hadn’t told anyone.
“He’s the one who cheated!” Libby blurted. “You could have had half of the house at least, not to mention support!”
“I know, but I wanted to be done. I kept my winnings, that’s my nest egg, and soon I’ll insist on a fair rent at the restaurant.”
Libby waved her off.
Hope persisted. “I really feel what I’m building there is right. And it’s mine. I’m going to buy that part of the building one day, but for now, no more freeloading for lodging.”
“You’re hardly freeloading. I wanted to make this work for you, make it so you couldn’t say no.”
“Well, you did. But now, I’m ready to stand on my own two feet. Make my own decisions, right or wrong, without Archie.”
“I’m thrilled. Now I just have to figure out what to do about this grant situation.”
Libby slid some pictures over to Hope.
“Oh, is this Ellston’s on the Pier?”
“It is, it is.”
Hope thumbed through them. “The whole block? He’s taking the whole block?”
“Yeah, Stirling Stone says his TV show is set to drive interest, make it a little foodie tourist mecca.”
“Hmm.” Hope looked at the photos. “He bought the block. Well, what do they need the grant for then if Ellston bought it?”
“Wait, what did you say?”
“If Ellston bought the block, what will they use the five hundred thousand for?”
Libby stood up and ran to her kitchen. Hope was slightly concerned her friend would break a hip with how fast she was flinging papers.
She returned to the porch with her laptop.
“That is a very good question, very good. We had to submit detailed plans for our five hundred thousand. It’s why I pushed you to come here. I needed that restaurant, among other things.”
“Right, yes.”
“If Ellston owns the block and he’s doing the renovation, or the food channel is or whatever, they’d have to resubmit detailed plans for how they were using the grant.”
Libby was now typing on her laptop faster than the human eye could register. The movement of her fingers was slightly terrifying.
J.J. arrived with wine in hand in the midst of Libby’s frenzy.
“Whoa, I think Libby just broke the speed barrier with that keyboard. What is she typing?” J.J. raised her eyebrows at Hope and handed her a glass of wine.
“Got me. I think we just let her go. It’s like freeform jazz.”
“Aha!” Libby said. And then a few minutes later, “NO WAY!”
Finally, Libby looked at her two friends.
“They have resubmitted. Just like the grant rules require. Look, they’re doing flowers, benches, a public sculpture. That’s what the money is going to go to. Theywereusing it like we were—roofs, sidewalks, infrastructure, flowers, and benches.”
“Flowers and benches are nice,” Hope said.
“Yeah, and guess what, our senior citizens squad did that in Irish Hills—all volunteers. They donated flowers and labor,” Libby said.
