Page 16 of Ask for Moore
“Yes, your honor,” Ryland confirmed, getting to his feet again. “Real estate law is clear—a sales contract can only be rescinded under very particular circumstances. When Mr. Burkhart purchased my client’s farm, there was no mistake of fact, no undue influence exerted, no fraud, no unlawful clauses in the purchase agreement, no failure of consideration as the property in question has a clear title which was promptly transferred to Mr. Burkhart, and the enforcement of the contract would not be prejudicial to the public interest.”
“Miss Duncan, I assume you disagree with Mr. Moore’s view of your client’s claim against Mr. Sanderson?”
“That’s correct, your honor.” Pushing my chair back to stand, I nodded. “Mr. Burkhart’s consent to the purchase was, in fact, given under mistake of fact. Upon discussing his plans for the property at length with Mr. Moore’s client, he believed in the present existence of the consideration the planning commission would give to his application for preliminary plat approval for the proposed subdivision. The consideration was material to the purchase but did not actually exist, and Mr. Sanderson was in a unique position to be aware of that fact.”
“My client was not, and has never been, on the planning commission, your honor,” Ryland disagreed.
“He did, however, have a cousin and a close childhood friend who currently serve on the commission and voted against my client’s application,” I countered. “Hence, his unique position. And as our complaint outlined, I also believe that a case could be made that there was indeed failure of consideration. The value of the land in question was only sufficient at the time of bargaining because of the possibility of the development my client intended to build there. With the planning commission’s ruling, it has now ceased to be sufficient.”
“In what world does two-hundred and fifty acres of prime farming land not have value?” Ryland scoffed.
The judge sent Ryland an exasperated look. “While I agree that the failure of consideration argument won’t fly, Miss Duncan does have a valid point about the potential mistake of fact. Motion to dismiss is denied. Are both parties ready to proceed?”
“If it pleases the court, the plaintiff requests two weeks for discovery,” I replied.
Ryland nodded. “Two weeks is fine with the defendant.”
“Okay, I will see you all two weeks from today at nine o’clock sharp.” She banged her gavel, and the clerk got up to walk behind the bench to discuss something with her.
Snapping my briefcase shut, I spared a quick look at Ryland before turning toward my client. “We passed the first hurdle. Now we enter the discovery phase.”
“Bury them in paperwork,” he demanded. “I want Sanderson to rack up enough billable hours that he goes crying to his friends on the planning commission. Maybe they’ll crack before we see them in court.”
I doubted that my client’s scheme would produce the outcome he wanted, but with only his cases to focus on at the moment, I could easily do what he requested. “I will do my best, sir.”
“You damn well better, or Bradley will hear about it,” he threatened before storming away.
I shoved my file, notepad, and pen back into my briefcase. Getting up, I followed Ryland and his client out of the courtroom. After a quick handshake, Mr. Sanderson headed away from the elevators while Ryland and I continued in that direction.
I wasn’t a big fan of elevators, but it was only three floors and taking the stairs in my heels wasn’t a great idea. Neither Ryland nor I said anything as he pressed the down button. We silently stood side by side until there was a ding, and the doors slid open. He swept his arm out in front of him and murmured, “After you.”
My legs were shaky as I stepped into the elevator. The courthouse was busier than I had expected, so I was surprised when the doors slid closed without anyone else joining us. At least being in the car with Ryland distracted me from being afraid of the tight quarters. I was too busy dragging his masculine scent into my lungs and fantasizing about him pressing me against the wall to kiss me.
But then my worst nightmare came true—the elevator jerked to a stop, and the lights went out. Every ounce of desire drained from my body to be replaced by terror.
9
Ryland
Istarted to move toward the button panel, but Waverly’s arm whipped out, and she wrapped her fingers around my forearm, gripping me tightly. “Where are you going?”
“I was going to press the open button. If we’re near a floor, the doors should open, and we can climb up or down to get out,” I explained.
“Oh.” Her hold on my arm tightened. “How do you know that?”
“It’s an assumption based on what I’ve seen in movies,” I wryly admitted.
“I guess it’s worth a try.” Instead of letting go, she scooted closer.
The emergency lights allowed me to tell one button from another, so I stretched my free arm out to jab the one marked open. When nothing happened, I hit it a few more times before sighing. “So much for that brilliant idea.”
“What about the alarm button?”
I pressed it, too. “No luck there, either.”
“How long do you think we’ll be stuck in here?”
“Good question.” I hit the phone button next, holding it down until a dial tone followed by the dialing of a number filled the car. “Maybe whoever answers will be able to tell us.”
