Page 88 of Save the Date
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Could she be hearing correctly? Was this shrew actually threatening her?
“Your lease expired in March,” Sylvia pointed out.
“I know that,” Cara said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “But I had an agreement with Bernice. She was fine with me going month to month until June. Then she was going to have a new lease prepared. She’d talked about raising my rent, and I’d agreed, in theory, as long as she got the plumbing looked at and the air-conditioning problems resolved.”
“Mother never said anything about that to me,” Sylvia said. “Not that it really matters now. I was going to wait and notify you after the closing, but I reckon now’s as good a time as any.”
Cara felt her scalp prickle. “Closing?”
“I’m about sick and tired of dealing with whiny tenants and their piddly problems,” Sylvia said. “Mama might have put up with that mess, but she’s dead now. Jones Street is sold. As of June thirtieth. You got a problem, take it up with the new owner.”
“Wait!’” Cara cried. “You sold my building? Without even telling me?”
“Sure did,” Sylvia said.
“What if I wanted to buy the building? You didn’t even give me right of first refusal.”
“Didn’t have to,” Sylvia said. “Anyway, the way I hear it, you’re just barely hanging on over there as it is. Where would you get the money to buy a valuable property like that?”
“What!” Cara exploded. “Where did you hear something like that? That’s a lie! My business is solid, and growing. Who did you sell it to anyway? You owe me that much.”
“I don’t owe you one sorry thing,” Sylvia Bradley said. “I reckon you’ll be hearing from the new owner soon enough. Here’s a word of advice to you though. Start packing. I think he’s got plans for that building that don’t include you.”
***
After leaving half a dozen voicemail messages for her lawyer, Cara finally got a callback, shortly before five.
“Hi Cara,” Melinda Ennis said cheerfully. “How’s the flower business?”
Melinda had been another gift from Vicki Cooper, a smart, savvy young Emory Law School grad who wanted a champagne wedding on a beer budget. Cara had managed to pull it off, and in return, the grateful bride had handled Cara’s divorce pro bono.
“Itwaspicking up,” Cara said. “But after today, I just don’t know. It’s like the universe is conspiring to grind its heel in my face.”
“What’s going on?”
Cara quickly filled the lawyer in on the conversation she’d had with Sylvia Bradley.
“She won’t even tell me who the new owner is,” Cara said, a note of desperation in her voice. “Can she do that—legally?”
“Well, morally and ethically, it sucks,” Melinda said carefully. “But since you no longer have a lease in effect, legally, your landlord is correct. She’s under no obligation to you whatsoever.”
“But that’s not right! I’ve been in this building for over two years, and I’ve never even been a day late with my rent. I’ve spent thousands of dollars of my own money fixing it up. And the Bradleys did nothing—nothing to keep up the property. The plumbing, the electrical, the wiring, even the roof, all need work.”
“Maybe the new owner will be more responsive,” Melinda said soothingly. “It sounds like you’ve been a model tenant. So hopefully, he’ll want to work something out and keep you happy.”
“I doubt it. Sylvia said the new owner has plans for my building that don’t include me. She actually suggested I should start packing.”
“What a hateful old bitch,” Melinda said with a sigh. “I wish there was something I could do to help here, but I guess you’ll just have to wait until you hear from the new landlord.”
“Isn’t there any way I can find out right now? Some kind of court records you could look up?”
“Once the property’s closed and the deed is registered, it’ll be public information,” Melinda said. “But not until then. Sylvia actually told you the closing isn’t till the end of the month?”
“The thirtieth,” Cara confirmed. “Three weeks from now. What if this new owner really does kick me out? How am I gonna find a new place I can afford, pack up and move in the middle of my busiest time of the year?”
“We’re just going to have to be proactive,” Melinda said. “You know what Savannah’s like. Everybody talks about everything. Especially real-estate transactions. Tell you what. I’ll go over to the courthouse tomorrow, do some poking around. I’ll get Andy to tap into his old-boy network too. We’ll figure out who the owner is, come up with an offer you can afford, and approach him before he has time to shop around for new tenants.”
“You really think that could work?” Cara asked. She had serious doubts.
