Patrice shook her head, unimpressed. “That might fly out here, but where I’m from, we stick to the rules,” she snapped. “Move the fence or pay up.”
“Plus, that thing’s an eyesore—old and ugly. If you don’t move it, I’ll take action, and you’ll regret it.”
Her attitude floored me. I tried explaining the handshake deal with Grant and Candice, but she wouldn’t budge. She even threatened to sue, leaving me no choice.
The next day, I took down the fence to avoid trouble, since I had no proof of the deal. My heart ached as I unscrewed the panels, stacked them by the garage, and yanked up the posts.
It was a bitter task, and the work was exhausting, but I wanted no legal drama. What happened next was beyond anything I could’ve imagined.
A week later, Patrice was back at my door, tears streaming down her face. “What did you do?!” she cried, her voice shaking.
Confused, I asked, “What are you talking about?”
“Please, put the fence back. When can you rebuild it? I’ll pay whatever you want—I need it back,” she pleaded.
“I thought you wanted it gone,” I replied.
“I did, but I have a dog, Duke, a German Shepherd mix. I can’t leave him outside without a fence,” she explained. “He’ll run off or get hit by a car. And he’s wrecking my house inside!”
