Mr. H.O.A. by Carina Taylor (readera ebook reader .TXT) 📗

"It's a good policy. Makes sure you don't get in over your head."

Sally nodded. "I knew I liked you right away. So tell me why you haven't bought a place. I hear you're good at what you do as a real estate agent. I imagine you could get the inside scoop on any house you wanted."

"I opened my own real estate office last year. I've been operating it on a cash basis, and it's been growing. I've put buying my own house on the back burner because I want to pay cash for that too. Of course, I owe Nola's friend rent for the time we've lived in their house. That will set back my plans a bit."

"You paid cash for your business? And plan on paying cash for your house?" Sally asked incredulously. That usually was the response I got from people. Most people accepted debt as a way of life. I'd learned the detriments of that.

He reached over and slapped my shoulder. "Sorry—that didn't come out right. I think it’s great. Now let’s go talk with the sheriff. He’s been helping me gather evidence."

"I’ve never caught a thief before."

Sally smirked. "It’ll be a first time for both of us."

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Homeowners Association Rule #84:

Porch colors must be chosen from the HOA approved list.

Work seemed to drag by. My mind was occupied with thoughts of Chippy stealing money. Money that I’d accused my dad of stealing.

When Bane and Dad came home the night before, the two of them had big fat grins on their faces and were acting like the best friends in the world. I’d become a third wheel, even though Bane and I were dating. I think. There had been no dates yet.

After their best friend bonding moment, they came home and told me all about how Chippy and Sterling had run a long con to steal over eighty thousand dollars from the tenants, Mercier, and the city.

They decided we needed to celebrate the discovery with dinner and dessert that they planned on making together. Bane and Dad were practically doing happy dances around the kitchen.

So we were going to eat. Together. The three of us.

Sure, I was happy to spend time with my dad. I was glad we were working on repairing our relationship. But I wanted some time with Bane by myself.

Dad and Bane were in the kitchen, cooking dinner while I responded to my mother’s email. Her handle was Junebug4. It made me smile every time it popped up. She was on her way home. A few days of debriefing in the States, and then she would be coming to Riverly. I missed her. Maybe she’d be able to break up the tricycle in this house, as Nate would call it. Which only led to another issue. How did I explain this situation to my mom? Dad was a good sport playing along. But Mom would be ready to come home and spend time with her family, not pretend like she was a stranger in her own home.

"Nola, we need to talk."

Words I never liked to hear coming from one of my parents. "What is it, Dad?"

His stern face softened. I glanced away, realizing I'd called him 'Dad.' The past couple of weeks had shown me exactly how much I missed the man who had raised me. The man who had taught me how to fix a sink and throw a softball. The person who had been the hero every young girl needed...until he wasn't.

"I think...I think that it's time I set some things straight."

I glanced up in surprise. He turned around and pulled an iced tea out of the fridge and passed it to me.

"Let's sit down and talk about it."

"Where’s Bane?"

Dad jerked his head toward the hall. "He said he was going to take a shower."

I nodded. "I'd like to talk."

We sat down on opposite ends of the couch. He adjusted the front of his shirt.

"Nola, I know I've been absent. That was never what I wanted. I remember a time when you and I were inseparable. You were the best apprentice a guy could ask for."

I nodded but let him keep speaking. Complimenting my work was his equivalent of a flowery speech.

"And while I know I played a part in getting wrapped up in my business, I can't help but feel that there's something more to this. That I somehow hurt you."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I hated this. I hated seeing him hurting. I hated thinking that I could have been wrong. Because if I was wrong, I'd caused irreparable grief between my father and me.

But voicing the issues meant that I would have to air some other hurts.

"Riley’s disappearance really did a number on you, didn't it?"

"Yeah, it did."

"But that can’t be all. I've explained it, but I feel like there's more between us. What else has pushed you away?"

If we were going to talk about this, it would be ten times better if I ripped off the band aid. "You used to give back to the community. Then you stopped! You changed. You became focused on business. You didn’t have time for helping other people."

Dad blew a deep breath out of his lips. "Ah."

"I know I shouldn’t judge you based on if you give money away, but it hurt. You had always taught me to help other people. To look out for the needs of others. And when you stopped doing that, it felt like a personal betrayal."

Dad nodded. "I see. With Riley and the donations. You’re right. I did teach you that being a good friend is important. And hopefully I’ve taught you that money should be used to help people. I guess I hadn’t realized how closely you were paying attention to me anymore."

I clenched my teeth together. "Whether or not I was paying attention shouldn’t change the fact that you help people."

Dad took a sip of his ice tea. "Nola. We’ve talked about Riley. You know my reasons for it. I wish that things had