Page 10 of Ask for Moore

“Only if you want to violate the non-disclosure agreement that’s part of your employment contract,” I muttered with a scowl.

“A-ha!” She whirled around and did a little dance. “Your overreaction proved it! Something’s going on here, and I must warn you that I feel as though it’s an unwritten part of my job description to get to the bottom of it.”

“As the person who wrote said job description, I can assure you that’s not accurate,” I disagreed with a sigh.

“I’m certain it was just an oversight on your part.” She turned back to the door and added, “I’ll be sure to rectify your mistake and update my personnel file.”

Ivy’s impudence distracted me from my upcoming appointment, and it wasn’t long before she called my office line and announced, “Waverly Duncan is here to see you, sir.”

“Please send her in.”

Waverly strode into my office and came to an abrupt stop, her pretty blue eyes widening. “You’re Martin Sanderson’s attorney?”

For all of Ivy’s teasing about eavesdropping, she closed the door behind Waverly to give us privacy.

“I am,” I confirmed with a nod, getting to my feet as I gestured for her to come closer. “Mooreville is a small town. We were bound to bump into each other at some point.”

“Yes, well”—she sat in the chair that Ivy had used only minutes earlier—“that small-town mentality will be at the heart of my client’s case against yours.”

Dropping onto my chair, I asked, “How so?”

Waverly placed her briefcase near her feet and bent over to pull out a folder, notepad, and pen. Then she returned her attention to me. “Your client is related to a member of the county planning commission. Another is a childhood friend. It stands to reason that he was in a unique position to be aware that my client’s odds were slim to get approval for his preliminary plat approval. Yet he said nothing. Instead, he remained silent while moving forward with the sale, allowing Mr. Burkhart to pay a premium for his land.”

I wasn’t surprised by the tactic she had taken. If I’d been on her side of the table, I would have done the same. However, I still didn’t think she had much of a case. “My client didn’t hide anything from yours. The Sanderson farm has been zoned as agricultural with a provision allowing single-family dwellings to be built for decades. The zoning was listed accurately on the listing, as well as on the closing documents signed by both parties. There was no deception, and as such, there is no cause to rescind the sale.”

“While I’m willing to stipulate that Mr. Sanderson and his agent did not commit fraud in regard to how they represented the zoning, I must disagree on there being no deception.” After jotting down a note, she tapped her pen against the pad, her blue eyes narrowing as our gazes met. “Mr. Burkhart talked about his plans for the property multiple times before closing. He even showed your client the preliminary plans he’d had drawn up. At no point during those discussions did your client so much as mention there might be issues gaining approval.”

I steepled my fingers together and countered, “The planning commission’s voting history on similar proposals is a matter of public record. If Mr. Burkhart and his team didn’t perform their due diligence prior to the purchase, it isn’t my client’s fault. They have nobody to blame but themselves.”

“Mr. Burkhart disagrees,” she murmured with a shake of her head.

“What kind of remedy is your client hoping to get?” I asked, getting to the heart of the matter in the hope that I’d be able to negotiate a settlement that would allow Marty to move forward with his plans in Florida. The sale had provided him with enough money to set him up for the rest of his life and still leave plenty behind for his daughter. When we talked about the situation earlier this week, he’d told me that he was more than willing to pay Burkhart to go away as long as the amount was within reason.

“Ideally, he wants approval to move forward with his plan for the subdivision.”

I heaved a deep sigh and shook my head. “That’s not within my client’s ability to give. He’s not a member of the commission and doesn’t even reside in the county anymore. The only way you’ll be able to get what Burkhart really wants is to win your case against the county. There’s no need to bring Marty into this since he can’t help.”

“Although Mr. Sanderson does not have a vote on the commission, it doesn’t necessarily mean that he cannot help,” she disagreed.

I scratched my jaw, my beard scraping against my fingers. “So you’re going to file suit unless he can talk the commission into reversing their decision?”

“I wouldn’t put it quite that way since it sounds an awful lot like extortion.”

“I find that a lot of legal negotiations tend to take on that tone.” Her lips pressed into a flat line at my grin. Her reaction only added to my desire to make Waverly smile. “Would your client consider arbitration?”

She shook her head, and a shiny lock of blond hair slid over her shoulder to drape over her left breast. I dragged my gaze away from the apple-sized swell as she replied, “There is no mandatory arbitration clause in their contract, and Mr. Burkhart wants his day in court. He’s steadfast in his desire to have the sale reversed if he cannot move forward with his plans for the subdivision. But I’m meeting with him after I leave here, and I’ll confirm that he won’t consider it.”

“Then I suppose I’ll see you in court if he won’t see reason.” Even though a court case wasn’t in the best interests of my client, I found myself looking forward to facing off against Waverly.

My gaze was riveted on the gap in the neckline of her blouse when she leaned forward to tuck her folder, notepad, and pen in her briefcase. I was so captivated by the barest glimpse of her white lacy bra that I almost missed when she pulled a stack of papers out and thrust them toward me. Reaching out, I took them and glanced down. “As long as I’m here, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give you a copy of the complaint I’ll be filing with the court.”

“Thank you.”

She stood and flashed me a confident smile that had my dick twitching in my pants. “No thanks needed. An advanced copy of my case against your client isn’t going to do you much good. You might have the home court advantage, but I’m still going to win.”

Her self-assurance was sexy as hell, and it was probably at the root of her ice queen nickname. Jealousy made people spiteful.

But I’d seen a flash of heat in her gorgeous blue eyes when she’d come into my office and realized I was the opposing counsel. She wasn’t cold, no matter what her peers thought.

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