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

been different, but I tried to help her the best I could in that moment. I hope we find her again, and that we can have her back in the family. I miss that girl. But she made a hard choice. A selfless choice. A choice I told her I would support her with. Just like I wanted to support you working in the DHS office and volunteering in the group home."

The lump in my throat grew as I tried to imagine being in dad's position. Deciding between helping someone in need and disappointing his own daughter. It was an impossible decision. Now that I knew why he did what he did, I was glad he chose to help Riley.

"As for the other issue, when people know that you have money, you start having friends and relatives you never knew you had. Everyone has an idea of how you can give your money. Everyone knows exactly which charity you should donate to. What startup you should invest in. When the community knows you like to help people, they begin pounding on your door demanding you help with whatever they have in mind—whether it's a charity or a business proposition. I got tired of that. I started making my donations a quiet thing. I don't go to benefits or fundraisers anymore. Instead, I make sure my donations are as quiet as possible. Sharon and Rob have been great about keeping it a secret that I help them. I can't help everyone—even my resources are limited—but I can at least make a difference in a few lives."

I wiggled my jaw back and forth. "You mean you're the group home's sponsor?"

Dad's eyes widened. "Well, yes. I figured you knew that."

"No! No, I didn't!"

Dad cleared his throat. "Hmm, Sharon and Rob are more tight lipped than I thought. I knew I liked them."

I leaned across the couch and flung my arms around his neck. "I've been such a jerk! A straight up a—"

"It's okay." Dad patted my back. "It was one big giant misunderstanding."

"But I—"

"Hey kiddo, don't you dare cry. Because if you cry, then I'll cry and it'll smudge my mascara."

And that was when I knew he'd forgiven me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Homeowners Association Rule #137:

Garage sales strictly forbidden.

Friday morning, I sat on the big king sized bed with my laptop open. I’d just thrown my first load of laundry in the wash. Nola was at the office, Sally could be anywhere for all I knew, and I had taken a day off. It felt marvelous. Maybe it was the fact that it had been a couple years since I had taken a Friday off, I don’t know, but it was glorious.

My to-do list was a mile long, and I couldn’t decide which part I wanted to tackle first. Bills? Belated birthday cards to family? Laundry?

I settled on laundry and emailing the owners of the house. Nola kept forgetting—which was fine. She wasn’t the most organized person I’d ever met, and to her, staying here wasn’t a big deal, but I wanted to find out how much I owed them in rent. I needed to clear up a few things before I could start house shopping.

I’d earned two large commissions checks that week, and it had bumped up my savings to a new level. I had my eye on the perfect house. One that Nola would love. On one hand, I felt like I was moving fast with her and that we should at least go on a date before we talked marriage. But reality was that we had lived together for a couple months now. Seeing each other every day. Spending time together every day. And I never wanted it to stop. I knew without a doubt that I wanted to marry her.

I could only hope she felt the same.

I pulled up the county GIS maps and searched for 268 Cypress Avenue, Riverly, OR. All I needed was to find out the name of the people that owned the house. Nola never told me.

It took a moment to load.

When the selection was made, the information box popped up.

Mercier, Sebastian.

That couldn’t be right.

I ran the search again.

Mercier, Sebastian.

Same answer. I tried a few other lots in the neighborhood to see who they were registered to. They all lined up correctly with the homeowner. Fredrick. Carol. Jan.

Sebastian Mercier owned the house. A sucker punch would have been easier to breathe through. Was Sebastian the friend out traveling the world? She didn’t think to tell me that the man I thought was stealing from us, was also the man whose house we were living in?

And now that we discovered none of it was Mercier’s fault, I felt even worse. Nola had lied to me!

I tossed the laptop aside and stomped into the bathroom. I rested my hands on the bathroom counter as I stared at myself in the mirror.

After ten deep breaths, I tried to think through Nola’s reasoning.

She’d worked for Mercier before. Check.

He’d been a type of mentor. Check.

She knew I didn’t like him. Check.

I knew the kind of person she was. Check.

Therefore, I knew she hadn’t kept that information from me with malicious intent. It had probably been with good intention—such as giving me a place to live.

It hurt being surprised like that. But it made sense. It made sense why Sally was here. It made sense why she was so close with him. She'd probably known him for years and they'd probably worked closely together when she interned for Mercier. Sometimes their relationship almost seemed like father and daughter.

Whatever Nola’s reasons were, I would wait to speak with her face to face before I jumped to any wild conclusions. It was against everything in my nature to not think ten steps ahead.

So instead of overthinking, I picked up my second basket of clothes. Balancing my clothes basket on my hip while I opened the laundry room door was rather hard to do with narrow hips. When I opened the dryer to throw my