maybe I can answer some questions. I'm sure whatever it is can be easily rectified."
"Not if you don't have permits." He jotted something down on his clipboard.
She swallowed. "I thought that for small jobs permits aren't necessary."
"Permits are always necessary, as far as I'm concerned," he stated without lifting his head. "And it looks like you're replacing the roof. That's not a small job."
She watched him prowl around her shed, at a loss about what to do. Fortunately Travis arrived a few minutes later, pulling up the driveway with his truck.
Eleanor hurried to him. "There's a man from the building department here, saying someone complained about our project."
Travis cursed under his breath as he strode toward the building.
They both went inside. Travis walked up to the man, speaking in some sort of building language that made no sense to her.
"I need a translator," she finally said.
They both looked at her. Travis shook his head. "It's all going to be okay. We'll pull the permits and then we'll be able to get the project going again."
She shook her head. "What do you mean, get it going again?"
"You can't do work here without a permit," the man from the building department said.
She faced Travis. "But it's not going to take long to get permits, right?"
"It might," the building department man said. "Bedford Falls has a volunteer board, so they may not be in to take care of your violation."
How did this happen? She rubbed her forehead, trying to think. "You said someone complained. Who?"
"Amadeus Ravel Massimo." He tore off a sheet from his board and handed it to her. "All the information is there."
"Do you know this guy?" Travis asked her.
Apparently not, because the Amadeus Ravel Massimo who wrote that hauntingly beautiful music wouldn't be such a hard ass. He'd certainly never have her dream shut down.
Her hands fisted at her sides, and she glared at the house next door. "That bastard."
"So I guess you have a decent idea of who might have lodged the complaint," Travis said, taking the notice from her. "Not that it matters. Once we get this taken care of, we'll be back in business, and then he won't be able to shut us down."
"There's always a way to shut down a job, if you can even get the permits in the first place," the building department man said sounding gleeful. He tucked his clipboard under his arm. "Nice to meet you. Have a good day."
They watched him leave. Then Travis said, "I'll call the crew to tell them not to come before I go take care of this. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to pull the permits quickly."
"Pretty sure?" she asked, hearing the high pitch in her voice.
"Sometimes in small towns like this, when there's an infraction, they dig their heels in and make it hard to continue with the work."
"Aw hell."
He looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Eleanor. I should have insisted that we pull permits. I really didn't think it was going to be an issue. It never has been before."
"It's not your fault." It was Mr. Gumpy Pants's fault, from next door.
While she'd been daydreaming about jumping his bones, he'd gone behind her back and done this to her. She should have learned with everything that had happened with Charles.
Well, she was done trusting the wrong men. And she wasn't going to let Max get away with this without pointing out to him what a fucker he was.
"I'll take care of it, Eleanor. About the costs—"
"It's not going to be expensive, is it?" she asked worriedly.
"A little. I don't know what the fines will look like."
She groaned.
He patted her shoulder. "I'll see what I can work out. Don't worry. I'll make this right."
"I'm sure you will," she murmured, looking over at the house next door. She returned her attention to Travis and gave him a weak smile. "The pause will give me more time to figure out what color I want to paint the interior."
"There you go." Nodding, he gave her a copy of the stop work order and pulled his phone out of his
"Not if you don't have permits." He jotted something down on his clipboard.
She swallowed. "I thought that for small jobs permits aren't necessary."
"Permits are always necessary, as far as I'm concerned," he stated without lifting his head. "And it looks like you're replacing the roof. That's not a small job."
She watched him prowl around her shed, at a loss about what to do. Fortunately Travis arrived a few minutes later, pulling up the driveway with his truck.
Eleanor hurried to him. "There's a man from the building department here, saying someone complained about our project."
Travis cursed under his breath as he strode toward the building.
They both went inside. Travis walked up to the man, speaking in some sort of building language that made no sense to her.
"I need a translator," she finally said.
They both looked at her. Travis shook his head. "It's all going to be okay. We'll pull the permits and then we'll be able to get the project going again."
She shook her head. "What do you mean, get it going again?"
"You can't do work here without a permit," the man from the building department said.
She faced Travis. "But it's not going to take long to get permits, right?"
"It might," the building department man said. "Bedford Falls has a volunteer board, so they may not be in to take care of your violation."
How did this happen? She rubbed her forehead, trying to think. "You said someone complained. Who?"
"Amadeus Ravel Massimo." He tore off a sheet from his board and handed it to her. "All the information is there."
"Do you know this guy?" Travis asked her.
Apparently not, because the Amadeus Ravel Massimo who wrote that hauntingly beautiful music wouldn't be such a hard ass. He'd certainly never have her dream shut down.
Her hands fisted at her sides, and she glared at the house next door. "That bastard."
"So I guess you have a decent idea of who might have lodged the complaint," Travis said, taking the notice from her. "Not that it matters. Once we get this taken care of, we'll be back in business, and then he won't be able to shut us down."
"There's always a way to shut down a job, if you can even get the permits in the first place," the building department man said sounding gleeful. He tucked his clipboard under his arm. "Nice to meet you. Have a good day."
They watched him leave. Then Travis said, "I'll call the crew to tell them not to come before I go take care of this. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to pull the permits quickly."
"Pretty sure?" she asked, hearing the high pitch in her voice.
"Sometimes in small towns like this, when there's an infraction, they dig their heels in and make it hard to continue with the work."
"Aw hell."
He looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Eleanor. I should have insisted that we pull permits. I really didn't think it was going to be an issue. It never has been before."
"It's not your fault." It was Mr. Gumpy Pants's fault, from next door.
While she'd been daydreaming about jumping his bones, he'd gone behind her back and done this to her. She should have learned with everything that had happened with Charles.
Well, she was done trusting the wrong men. And she wasn't going to let Max get away with this without pointing out to him what a fucker he was.
"I'll take care of it, Eleanor. About the costs—"
"It's not going to be expensive, is it?" she asked worriedly.
"A little. I don't know what the fines will look like."
She groaned.
He patted her shoulder. "I'll see what I can work out. Don't worry. I'll make this right."
"I'm sure you will," she murmured, looking over at the house next door. She returned her attention to Travis and gave him a weak smile. "The pause will give me more time to figure out what color I want to paint the interior."
"There you go." Nodding, he gave her a copy of the stop work order and pulled his phone out of his
Similar Books
