She looked down at the signature.
“So you’re accusing the HOA of forgery?”
“I haven’t accused anyone of anything.”
I took a picture of each page with my phone.
“I’m documenting what you handed me.”
She immediately pulled the folder toward herself.
Too late.
“Jack, there’s no reason to make this hostile.”
“You came onto my farm.”
“We believed we had legal access.”
“You cut my crop.”
“We improved the property for public use.”
“You sold tickets.”
“For a charity event.”
“You built structures.”
“Temporary structures.”
“You installed electrical cables.”
“Licensed vendors handled—”
“You forged my signature.”
“I did not say that.”
“Neither did I.”
That stopped her.
She had walked directly into it.
The golf cart driver stared at the steering wheel.
Trish lowered her voice.
“You’re creating a serious problem for yourself.”
That sentence changed everything.
Until then, I thought I was dealing with arrogance.
