I didn’t go in with Gavin because I felt slightly guilty about invading Jackson’s privacy. But I want it to be a surprise, which is why I couldn’t give him a heads-up about the inspection. It’s also the reason why I organized it for during his lunch break when I knew he’d be at Clancy’s.
“Wish I had better news, but the cabin doesn’t meet current building codes.”
“I suspected as much.”
“Due to its compromised structural integrity and the outdated electricals, I’d recommend demolishing it as the best way forward to ensure safety and compliance. I’m going to have to issue you with a formal notice.”
“I understand. How long have I got?”
“Someone currently lives here, right?”
I nod. “They do.”
He taps the clicker on his pen sharply with his thumb. “I’ll give you thirty days, but I’d recommend relocating them beforethen. If anything goes wrong, you’re liable. And if you get sued, well…”
“I get it. Thanks.”
He fills out the notice and hands it to me. This is moving faster than expected, but I guess what’s the point in waiting? Especially if the structure is unsafe. Looks like I’m going to have to ditch the surprise aspect and let Jackson know today that he can’t live here anymore.
I take my phone out, check my calendar, then text Jackson a meeting invite for 5:00 p.m. That buys me a few hours to come up with a way to break the news to him without him breaking my neck.
18
Jackson
“Man, I am beat,” I say with a groan, flopping down onto the wooden bench for my meeting with Maverick. I stretch my arms over the back and accidentally brush his upper arm. “Sorry. I’ll move away.”
He smiles a slightly crazy-eyed smile at me. Seriously. What is it with him and this bench?
“No. You’re fine.”
The anti-Maverick plan has been in limbo ever since my tactic of overloading him with all the expenses didn’t pan out the way I expected it to. I’ve also put a halt to the morning coffees and notes.
No more messing with him.
At least not until I come upon something that actually works. Plans A and B have both bombed so far, so I’m easing off, being, dare I say it, genuinely nice to him. Or something in the general vicinity of niceness. It’s the least I can do after giving the guy even more shit to worry about.
“So what’s this about? Am I in trouble?”
His lips stretch into a taut smile before his eyes dart away quickly. “Surprisingly, no.”
“But something is up?”
“Yeah.”
“Hang on a sec,” I say, fishing out the sanctuary’s cell phone. It’d be great if we had admin staff to handle overnight calls, but that’s another expense I’m pretty sure Maverick can’t afford right now. He and I take turns fielding out-of-hours emergencies. I hand him the phone. “Before I forget.”
“Oh, right. Thanks.” He places it on the bench beside his thigh.
“So what’s up?”
Reaching behind him, he pulls out a black binder. “Here.”
I take it from him and start skimming through the laminated pages. The finer details elude me, but I’m able to see enough to get the gist. “What are all these cabins?”
“They’re pretty neat, huh?”
I slam the binder shut and turn to him. “Where are you going with this?”
