Page 14 of Fake-Off with Fate
“I beg to differ,” I tell him. Unless Mrs. Jenson, Mr. Harper, Ms. Block, and Mrs. Carson—my first-through fourth-grade teachers—didn’t know what they were talking about. And they were super confident they did.
“Victor MacDonald left his land to his heir,” the voice on the other end of the line assures me.
“Which he didn’t have.”
“It turns out, he did,” Jeremy says.
“No, he didn’t. Because if he did, that person would essentially own more than half of Maple Falls.”
“Correct.”
My brain is starting to hurt. “Mr. Hunt. Who are you calling on behalf of?”
“Alexander MacDonald,” he tells me, like I should have worked that out already. “Victor MacDonald’s legal heir.”
Holy heck.This sounds like more trouble than I’m capable of handling on my own. Yet if I want my parents to stay married, I have no choice but to do so. “If this is true, and of course we will have to look into it, what is it that Alexander MacDonald would like to do with the land?” I silently pray he wants to leave it to Maple Falls, but if that were the case, he wouldn’t need a lawyer.
“Mr. MacDonald plans to claim the land and develop it.”
Jeremy Hunt might as well have just pronounced the end of my hometown. “Mr. Hunt,” I remind him, “when an heir couldn’t be found after fifty years, the town took possession of the property. We’ve built on it. We’ve created preserves.”
“Which is why I need to speak to the mayor.”
This is where I totally and completely lose my mind. I lie, “My name is Ashlyn Thompkins. I’m the acting mayor.”
“In that case, Ms. Thompkins, you should know that we are going to take legal action if Alexander MacDonald’s inheritance isn’t turned over to him in a timely manner.”
I wonder if my mom would think this was an emergency big enough to put off her trip, but then I realize nothing short of World War III breaking out in Maple Falls would do that. And maybe not even then.
“Let me get your phone number, Mr. Hunt,” I say as calmly as I can. “You can send all pertinent documents to my attention. As soon as I get them, I will consult the town council, and wewill get back to you. Ot perhaps it would be better if I spoke directly to Mr. MacDonald.” Then I could beg him to reconsider claiming his inheritance. Not that he would but it’s a solid place to start.
Jeremy Hunt sounds borderline condescending as he tells me, “Mr. MacDonald is a very busy man and doesn’t bother himself with small affairs like this. He’s currently overseas on business”
I’m flabbergasted anyone would consider the destruction of an entire town a small affair. Turning on my dad’s computer, I do a quick search on Alexander MacDonald. That’s when I discover he’s a billionaire businessman who probably has a heart made from stone. I’m guessing you don’t get to be mega-rich unless you put the almighty dollar above everything else—people included.
Hopefully I won’t get the paperwork or hear from anyone else until my parents get home. I refuse to be responsible for something as serious as messing up the fate of my entire hometown.
CHAPTER 8
JAMIE
After breakfast,Dale and I head over to the arena so I can officially meet the team. He goes into his office first while I go into the locker room. That’s where I run into Cade Lennox. He and I played on the same team in New York. I greet him before asking, “How do you like small-town living so far?”
Shaking my hand, he says, “I love it! It’s nothing but fresh air and peace. I don’t miss the big city at all.”
“It’s all so foreign to me,” I tell him, wishing I was as excited as he is.
“I grew up in a small town, so it feels like coming home.”
“I grew up in the city,” I say. “I guess I’m more comfortable with cranky cab drivers and muggers.” As Cade grabs his jersey and pulls it over his head, I ask, “Had any run-ins with bears?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet, but that would be kind of cool, huh?”
Now doesn’t feel like the right time to share what a chicken I am, so I offer, “It sure would be something.”
Once Cade finishes changing, he heads out to the ice. That’s when Harry approaches me. “Jamie,” he says.
I look up from my current task of pulling my socks on. “Harry.”
