Dancing on a Moonbeam (Bedford Falls Book 1) by Kate Perry Page A

she should sit down. She pulled out a chair from the table. "And he won't give you a sign-off?"  
    "He's not here to give me a sign-off." Travis exhaled in obvious frustration. "He's in the Dominican Republic for the next couple weeks."
    "So someone else must be able to okay things in his place," she said.
    "You'd think there'd be someone else, but there isn't. That's small town life for you. Things are just at a standstill at the building department. So you're looking at another few weeks before we can continue, and that's only if he actually signs off on the project."
    She closed her eyes. Why was she even bothering to do this?  
    Because it was what she wanted, and she wasn't going to let anyone tell her she couldn't have what she wanted. She'd spent too many years accepting the No 's people gave her.  
    As if sensing her resolve, Travis said, "There's a way to get past this sooner though."
    She opened her eyes. "Tell me."
    "If the complaint is dropped, I can go ahead and get permits without involving the code enforcer."
    "I'll get the complaint dropped," she said with grim determination.
    "I wouldn't bet against you," he said with a chuckle. "I'm here when it's done."
    "Thanks, Travis." She hung up.
    "What are you doing?" Lily asked, walking into the kitchen.
    "Plotting revenge on Max, next door, for filing a complaint against me." She looked at her daughter, who was dressed like she was going clubbing. "Are you going to a party tonight?"
    "No." She shot a look that clearly stated she thought her mom was lame. Inspecting the fruit basket, she chose a banana and peeled it. "He didn't, you know."
    Eleanor shook her head. "Who didn't what?"
    "Max next door. He didn't file the complaint." Lily rolled her eyes at Eleanor's blank look. "His friend Liam filed the complaint."
    "Liam?" The nice actor? She made a face, confused. "How do you know?"
    "I just do." Her daughter shrugged as she sauntered out, eating the banana.
    She stared after Lily. Should she believe the brat?  
    Lily had no reason to lie. Plus, it explained Max's surprised reaction to the notice.  
    Why hadn't he told her? She felt relieved knowing he wasn't as much a bastard as she thought. Still, she wasn't taking any chances. She was taking no prisoners.  
    Pursing her lips, she marched outside, across her yard to the Reynolds' back door. She banged on the door, and then she opened it without waiting.  
    The sound of a piano sang through the house. She stopped, caught in its haunting tune. Nonetheless, it struck her heart, making her want to sway and twirl in rhythm to its cresting melody.  
    Now wasn't the time, though. Focusing, she squared her shoulders. "I want to talk to you," she yelled into the house.
    The piano music stopped abruptly. The next moment he appeared through an archway. "Come in," he said with a lift of his brow. "Make yourself at home."
    She ignored his sarcasm. "I've come to bury the hatchet."
    "In my head, I bet."
    "Tempting." But she shook her head. "No, I really mean it. I've come to make peace and ask that you drop the complaint again."
    He shook his head. "Listen, I don't like holding up your project. I really don't. It's just self-preservation on my part. I need quiet to figure out my movie score."
    She felt a ping of sympathy in her heart. "How much more do you have to write?"
    "All of it," he said, his shoulders slumping.
    She blinked. "All this time and you haven't done anything? You're still having trouble with your soundtrack?"  
    "Yes." He didn't sound pleased.
    She nodded thoughtfully. "So it'd be safe to say that the quiet days you've had didn't actually help you."
    His gaze narrowed. "Why do I feel suspicious?"
    "Because you're untrusting," she replied with a sunny smile as the idea took hold. "But I can work with that."
    "Work with what?"
    "You." She pointed at him. "Since the quiet hasn't helped you write your music, I'm going to."
    "You're going to do what?"
    "Help you write your score," she said slowly, because