Tax Cut (4 page)

“I’m not sure,
” she said. “I don’t remember.”

“Perhaps I could take your phone number and contact the animal control officer for you.”

That statement seemed to appease her. She gave me her phone number and I promised her a call back.

I
hung up the phone and took the few short strides over to Bryce’s office.

“
Hi, Bryce, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering, have you ever heard of a Babs Todaro?” I asked him.

“Oh
, yeah; we all have. What did she ask for this time?”

“She doesn’t lik
e all the birds on her property; she said they keep her awake and she wants me to send them back where they came from.”

Bryce
started laughing. “That’s our Babs,” he said. I looked at him, confused. “I’m sorry, you don’t know Babs. Babs is one of our senior citizens and has dementia. She calls weekly with off-the-wall complaints. You’ll get used to it.”

“I told her I’d call her back.”

“Oh, don’t bother. She’ll forget all about it in a few hours.”

“Are you sure? I feel funny not calling her back.”

“Well, go ahead and wait two hours, then call her back. You’ll see. She won’t remember,” Bryce said as he pushed a lock of his brown hair away from his forehead. There was something about Bryce that was likeable. Maybe it was his demeanor or his deep, reassuring voice. I couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Okay,” I said and I headed back to my desk to get some work done.

A couple of hours later, I picked up the phone to call Babs. It rang about ten times. I was about to hang up, but she finally answered.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Babs, this is Chelsey Alton, the village clerk. I was calling you back from earlier.”

“Who?” Babs asked.

“Chelsey Alton. I spoke with you earlier.”

“What are you selling?”

“I spoke with you earlier about the birds on your property.”

“Oh, I’m not interested in any bird seed.
Thank you.” And she hung up before I got a chance to say anything else. Bryce was right; she didn’t remember.

Shortly thereafter,
a customer came in to pay for his dog license, so I went to the front counter to assist him. As I was trying to figure out how to get into the dog-licensing database on the computer, he asked if I remembered him. I stared at him for a few seconds, trying to place the face. He looked to be close to my age. He was about three inches shorter than I was, had dark hair and dark eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a thick gold Figaro link necklace entwined in his chest hair. He sported a matching gold bracelet.

“I’m sorry, I have a terrible memory,” I told him.

“Mike,” he said.

The name “Mike” still didn’t ring any bells.
I thought long and hard. The only Mike I knew of that looked like him was on a reality TV show called
Jersey Shore
, and the Mike in front of me was way too short to be the same person. After I looked blankly at him, he said, “From high school.”

“Oh,
” I said. “It’s so nice to see you.”

I still didn’t have a clue who he was, so I played along. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He han
ded me a check for the dog fees and told me it was nice to see me. I looked at the check. His last name was Nero. I realized he might have been related to another guy I was friends with back in high school named Landon Nero.

I took a chance and said, “How’s
Landon?”

“Oh, he’s good.
He got married recently to Genevieve from our class.”

Bingo.
He was related to Landon. I had heard Landon and Genevieve were recently married. I handed him his dog tag and receipt and told him to let Landon know I said hello. As he walked away from the window, I glanced down at the clock. It was time to call it a day. The first day on the job was exhausting. I headed over to my parents’ house, picked up Mandy, then headed home. After a quick dinner, I put both her and myself to bed. I slept like a rock.

Chapter
4

I woke up the
next morning, still feeling tired. The air was damp and the temperature outside remained in the thirties. I was ready for warmer weather. I dropped off Mandy at my parents’ house, then I stopped at the coffee shop, Take Ten. I ordered a tall mocha latte, since I needed the caffeine and the warmth. While I had a good night sleep, I felt wiped out from going back to work for the first time in over a year. I unlocked my office door, turned on the lights, and dragged my feet to my desk. I sank back into my chair, tossed back a gulp of coffee, and waited a beat to see if I would be jolted into a more alert state of mind.

The blinking light on my phone was a distraction from my latte. I hit the voicemail button.
All three messages were from Babs Todaro. She didn’t say much, other than to call her as soon as possible. I figured she had finally remembered about the birds and I called her back.

“Hi. Mrs. Todaro?” I asked.

“Please call me Babs. I want to know what people have to do to get a permit.”

“What kind of a permit?”

“A permit to start a business.”

“Well, it depends on the business. I would refer them to our zoning department first to see if they needed a zoning permit.
What type of business is it?”

“A cemetery.”

I smiled. Maybe she hadn’t remembered the birds. I asked, “A cemetery? Are you looking to open a cemetery?”

“No
, silly, I can see that the guy across the street is building a cemetery and I don’t think he has any permits. I want to report him.”

I asked Babs where she lived.
It was a residential neighborhood with some quaint stores mixed in. I passed those stores on my way into work. From what I could tell, there wasn’t much open space in that area for a cemetery. Actually, we were on a barrier island. I didn’t remember seeing any cemeteries on this island, and I wondered if it had something to do with the water table. I didn’t think it was likely that there were any cemeteries currently being built in Coral Beach. I asked her how she knew it was a cemetery.

“I saw the
gravediggers and the dead bodies,” she said.

On that note, I decided to humor her and tell her I’d have the zoning department look into it.
Then, for the heck of it, I called the zoning department and asked about the area where Babs lived. I learned it was a mixed-use area, meaning there were residential homes and businesses intermingled. Babs lived on the outskirts of the area in an end-unit, single-story townhome. Her home was across the street from an office building. There were more townhouses being built next to that office building, and I was correct in my assumption; there was nowhere to put a cemetery in that area.

After two hours had passed,
I decided to call Babs back. She answered the phone, saying, “I’m too busy right now; my soaps are on. I’ll call you back.” I took that to mean I had done my due diligence and if she had a further complaint, she would call me.

When my phone rang precisely an hour later
, I thought it was Babs calling me back yet again. I looked at the caller ID and saw that it wasn’t Babs after all; it was Mike Nero.

“Hi, Chelsey, this is Mike
. I was in yesterday to get my dog’s license.”

“How can I help you
, Mike?”

“I’d like to know if I could take you out on a date.”

Oh lord,
I thought. I had absolutely no interest in going out on a date with this guy. He wasn’t exactly my type.

“Thanks for asking, but I’m seeing someone,” I told him.
Truth be told, I wasn’t even really seeing Kris, but I was hopeful that I would be seeing him. I also figured it was a nice way to let someone down.

“So, you’re seeing someone.
Doesn’t sound like you are exclusive,” he noted.

He was right. I wasn’t exclusive with Kris. I just didn’t want to go out with Mike.

“We are exclusive, but thank you for asking.”

“Are you sure you won’t reconsider?”

“Thanks for calling, but I have a customer, so I have to go. Bye,” I said quickly and I hung the phone up before he could continue to hound me for a date.

The sound of the dinging bell made me look toward the front counter.
It was one of the developers I had met at Federici’s. The attractive one. I approached the counter.

“Hi
, Mr. Righetti. What can I do for you?” I asked.

Gino seemed to look through me with his deep, dark eyes.

“Chelsey, it’s so wonderful to see you again. I was wondering if you could tell me how I should go about getting the zoning changed on a property. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but your zoning board turned down my application for a use variance. I have a bigger picture in my head anyway.”

“No, I didn’t hear that.
I’m new here. I’m not really familiar with zoning anyway. I know that you can go to the board of trustees and ask for them to change it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I knew that. Let’s just say they agree to it.
What happens next?”

“Well, they would have to approve a zoning ordinance.”

“And how long does that take?”

“Oh boy, that can take up to two months.”

“Two months? Why so long?” he asked as he lowered his eyebrows in such a way to let me know he wasn’t pleased with that answer. He made me nervous, but I wasn’t sure why. I was generally nervous around handsome men, but it seemed like there was something else I couldn’t put my finger on. Gino Righetti was dark and mysterious.

“Well, the
ordinance would need to be drafted, then placed on an agenda for the board of trustees to vote on it. We call that an ‘introduction.’ We have a meeting next week; the agenda deadline is in two days. After that, the law says it has to go to our planning board. They have thirty-five days to review it. Once they review it, it goes back to the board of trustees to have a public hearing and then they can vote to adopt it. After that, it gets published in the newspaper. Then, it becomes effective ten days after it appears in the newspaper. So, sixty days may even be pushing it.”

He frowned.
“Is there any way to speed up the process?”

“Sometimes the planning board doesn’t need the full
thirty-five days,” I informed him.

He scratched his chin and looked blankly through me, as if he was deep in thought.
If there was a mirror in front of him, I thought he wouldn’t be able to see his reflection. He reminded me of one of those sexy vampires, minus the fangs, and a little creepy.

“Okay,” he said, and he turned around to walk out.
He looked back at me and said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I responded.

I knew he was a developer, so I wondered what type of project he had going on where the zoning needed changing.

* * *

Within an hour, Marc appeared in my office. Without saying hello, he said, “Chelsey, I am calling a special meeting for Thursday night. I need you to draft a zoning ordinance for this meeting switching zone R1 to a mixed-use zone, including residential and commercial development.”

I looked at him
, confused. I was surprised at the clout that Mr. Righetti had to make Marc jump through hoops to leave his full-time job and hustle over to my office to tell me about the special meeting and ordinance. I also wondered why Marc didn’t simply phone me instead. I couldn’t understand why they wanted to move so fast on it.

“I’m not sure how to write that.
I’ve never written a zoning ordinance before,” I said.

I was shocked when his head popped off his neck, hit the ceiling
, and came crashing back down. He slammed his fists down on my desk. I slid my chair backwards, away from my desk, alarmed. “Figure it out!” he screamed, then stormed out of my office.

That
came as a complete shock to me. I had thought he was such a nice guy; so pleasant with me in all of my dealings with him. I felt a tear welling up in my eye. I had managed to anger one of my bosses within my first few days of work. I was going to pick up the phone to try to call someone for help, but I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t break down over the phone.

“Are you okay?” I heard a voice say.
I looked up to find Bryce in my doorway. I guess he saw the puffiness surrounding my eyes, and before I could answer, he said, “That was uncalled for. He shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. Did he kick the desk or something? That is completely unprofessional.”

The voice of my mother rang out in my head.
Never let them see you sweat!
I cleared my throat. “It’s fine. I’m okay. Thanks, Bryce,” I quietly babbled.

“Is there
anything I can help you with?” he asked.

“Um, no, not yet.
Um, I’ll let you know if I do.”

He left the doorway and I took a moment to count to ten in a failed attempt to settle myself.
I then opted for an email message to both our zoning division and our attorneys. Perhaps one of them would take pity on me and help me write the ordinance Marc wanted. I pulled out the ordinance books, found the R1 district in the books, and forwarded the language of that ordinance to them as well. I told them how the ordinance was to be done for a special council meeting, called by the village president. I worked on the meeting notice for the special meeting. I sent it to the newspapers and I placed it on the bulletin board. I also notified the appropriate staff that there would be a meeting and I booked the boardroom.

Several minutes later, I received a response from the law firm that Coral Beach contracted with, Bellini and Associates.
They told me not to fear, that they would take care of it, and that they would send me something soon.
Whew
! That was a ton of bricks lifted off my shoulders. I was stunned and thrilled that I got an answer from them so quickly. I thanked them from the bottom of my heart.

Alt
hough I was keeping busy, I remained upset. I was also incredibly stressed, having been thrown into the fire with no one to give me a little training, no office assistance, and now a meeting I wasn’t expecting. I felt my stomach grumbling. I looked at the clock and noticed it was already two in the afternoon. I decided to take a lunch break to regain my composure. When I returned, I buried myself in paperwork all afternoon, trying not to think about Marc’s fists making contact with my desk. Toward the end of the day, I decided to go over to the tax office to ask about the job opening. I approached Dingo, since Bryce was out of the office, having left after a half of a day. Dingo was in his forties and appeared to be a direct descendent of the chimpanzee—in both looks and personality. He had greasy dark hair and was hairy all over. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, revealing his hairy chest.

I asked
him about the job opening and why they weren’t advertising for it yet.

“Why?
You lookin’ to switch positions already?” Dingo asked, staring at my chest.

“No, it seems as though we could all use the help, so I would like to get the position filled quickly if possible.
I have a friend who might be interested.”

He looked up at my face and said, “Is she as pretty as you?”

“Um, thanks, I think. Yes, she’s pretty, but more importantly, she’s a great worker.”

“Tell her to fax over her
résumé.”

“Would email work?”
I asked him.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

I thanked him and I walked away, thinking he was a big dog and wondering if Joni quit because he wouldn’t stop staring at her “ladies.” I surmised “Dingo” was more of a description than a name. I called Bonnie and gave her his email address to send in her résumé. She must have sent it immediately because she called me back only thirty minutes later and told me that Dingo had already called her and told her to come in for an interview the next day. I warned her about his “staring issue,” but I also knew Bonnie could handle herself around men like him. I wished her luck and we disconnected.

My phone rang again five minutes later.
It was Nero. I answered the phone in order to tell him to stop calling.

“Clerk’s office, Chelsey speaking.”

“Chelsey, it’s Mike.”

“You have to stop calling me at work,” I told him.

“Well, then can I have your home number?”

I rolled my eyes.
This guy just didn’t get it. I wasn’t sure if he was oblivious or rude.

“No, you can’t have my home phone number.
I want you to stop calling me.”

“Then how about your cell?”

“No!”

“But, I’d really like to take you out on a nice date.
I promise, you won’t regret it.”

“Mike, I have a child and a boyfriend.
I can’t go out on a date with you. Thank you for asking, but no thanks.”

“Dump your boyfriend and go out with me.”