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She opened the mailbox and dug out the mail, chiding herself for acting so childishly.Get a grip.Brock was just a guy—the smartest, most handsome, most successful man she’d ever known—and he wanted to date her. He’d promised to return to Cherry Creek before Christmas for their first official date to Rutherford’s—Cherry Creek’s only white tablecloth establishment. Erin had been there only once before, when Gram took her after her graduation from Cherry Creek Academy.
She flipped through the envelopes and magazines that littered her box, stopping at an official-looking document addressed to Louise Larkin. With her grandmother unreachable in the jungle of Costa Rica, Erin made an executive decision and opened the envelope on Gram’s behalf.
The breath clogged in her throat as her heart slithered southward. “What?” she said after skimming the letter. “This can’t be right.”
She jogged inside and went straight for her cell phone, dialing Gram’s number with fingers that shook with fear. Gram’s phone went straight to voicemail. Erin called again and again, each time getting her voicemail.
She stood in her kitchen, staring at the document she’d placed on the counter.Think, Erin. There must be something you can do.She scanned the masthead and dialed the number to the neighborhood management company. A woman answered on the second ring.
“Hi. This is Erin Collier calling on behalf of my grandmother, Louise Larkin. We live at 4550 Cherry Tree Lane in Cherry Creek Reserve. She just got a letter in the mail about breaking a neighborhood covenant.”
“Just a moment, please,” the woman said and placed Erin on hold. She rejoined the call a few minutes later. “There’s been a formal complaint lodged against the owner of 4550 Cherry Tree Lane.”
“What kind of complaint?”
“Someone challenged the resident’s age as too young to preside in the dwelling.”
The fist strangling Erin’s midsection loosened its feral grip. “My grandmother well exceeds the fifty-five and over qualification.”
“Then your grandmother should have no problem proving her age and habitation at the domicile.”
“How is she supposed to prove her habitation? She lives here. What more do you need to know?”
“We’ve had instances where the person who owns the house has passed, and younger residents stay on in violation of neighborhood guidelines. Your grandmother can resolve the issue by sending a notarized letter via certified mail confirming her occupation of the residence.”
“Okay.” Erin’s pulse calmed. She could do this. Her grandmother would eventually check in, and Erin could get the issue handled. “Does she send it to your address here on the letterhead—the Memphis address?”
“Yes, that’s the one. The letter must be dated by December twenty-second.”
“December twenty-second?” Erin croaked. She had fewer than ten days to find her grandmother, get her back home, sign a notarized letter, and mail it to Memphis? “My grandmother is currently out of the country and unreachable by phone. I’m not sure I can get a notarized letter to your office by then. Is there any way to postpone the deadline until she returns?”
“I’m afraid not. If your grandmother wants to avoid a formal inquiry, she needs to provide proof of residence by the twenty-second.”
Erin dropped the phone and disconnected the call, her stomach roiling. Who could have lodged a complaint—and why? As far as Erin knew, everyone loved her.
Darlene already dislikes you. She feels threatened by you.Liza’s words echoed in her brain. But Darlene was still in the hospital and in no condition to lodge a complaint.
Erin’s fairytale romance skidded to a halt.You choose to live here?Brock had said the night of the party.That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.Would he? Could he?
As if she’d summoned him, her phone rang, and his name flashed on the screen. She didn’t want to answer and act like everything was okay—nothing was okay—and she didn’t want to burden him with her problems. She needed to concentrate on locating Gram and returning her home as soon as possible.
Her phone dinged with a text.
Hey there, hot stuff. Just thinking of you. Tried to call. You’re probably out walking someone’s dog or picking up their prescription.??I’ll try you back later. XOXO.
Brock wouldn’t have filed a complaint, not after kissing her stupid and sending her texts like that. Shame coated her throat for even thinking he would.
He could help you. You know he’d do whatever he could to help—and he has the resources.She tucked the thought away even though now that she’d come to her senses and determined he would never have filed a complaint, she was desperate to share the shocking development with someone who cared.
But Brock had had his fill of people leaning on him for support, of that he’d made crystal clear. Erin refused to strain their burgeoning relationship with the millstone of asking for help. And what could he do, anyway? Until she got in touch with Gram, there wasn’t anything anyone could do.
Erin jumped at the knock on her door. She left the letter on the counter and walked to the foyer, checking the peephole before opening the door. Liza stood at her threshold with a box in her arms. “I’m sorry,” Erin said, ushering Liza inside. “I was on my way to the clubhouse to help you and I got distracted by the mail.”
“That’s okay. Since you didn’t officially have Louise’s permission, I wanted to return her decorations before anything got lost or broken.” She set the box on the counter. “What’s wrong?”
Erin blinked and attempted a smile. “Nothing’s wrong.”
Liza scoffed, popping the gum in her mouth. “Erin, you’re a terrible actress. I should know. What’s going on?”
