Yellowstone Shifters by Greg Marchand

Author:Greg Marchand
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal shifter ebooks, paranormal shifter fiction, shifter ebooks, shifter fiction, paranormal thriller ebooks, paranormal thriller fiction, supernatural thriller, supernatural shifter, supernatural shifter ebooks, mythology ebooks, curses and hexes, paranormal curses ebooks
Publisher: RhetAskew Publishing
Published: 2021-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

A WOMAN IN a drab blazer sat across the desk from Nicole. The woman rapidly spouted, “This is your Affidavit of Title. Basically, you are stating that the property is yours to sell, there are no liens, you’re not bankrupt—things like that.”

Nicole simply nodded; the woman’s voice was no more than a droning in Nicole’s head.

Page by page, through a stack of documents an inch thick, Nicole laid down her signature nearly fifty times.

She shook her hand as it began to cramp up. All this hoopla over a piece-of-shit house, she thought.

Once all was signed, the mortgage broker gathered the documents into a neat pile. “I’ll just need to make copies of these. In the meantime . . . ” Looking up from the documents, the woman finally noticed Nicole’s hearing aid. Here it comes, Nicole thought. The woman raised her voice slightly, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t notice your . . . ”

“No, no, it’s fine. I barely need it. It’s nothing. I can hear you just fine.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.”

Nicole’s voice was tinged with frustration. “Don’t be sorry. It’s fine.”

“Right. Well, in the meantime, Barbara here has the other paperwork for you to sign as well. I’ll be right back.”

Like a well-oiled machine, the two women in pantsuits shuffled about, slipping papers in and out of folders, smiling like it was Friday afternoon and they had a Bahamas cruise that left in the morning.

Halfway through signing the second stack of closing documents, the second woman seemed to notice Nicole’s defeated demeanor.

The second woman said in her southern accent, “It’s okay, girl, just a few more, I promise.”

Upon her last signature, the woman told Nicole to keep the pen, as it probably didn’t have any ink left in it anyway, and giggled.

Nicole forced a smile in return.

“All right, hon, I’ll run and make some copies, and we’ll be all set, mmkay?”

Nicole nodded.

When the first woman returned, she handed Nicole a clipped bundle of papers encased in a plastic sleeve. “There you are, Ms. Bowman.”

“Thank you.”

The woman asked, “So, what’s next for you? Are you looking to buy a home soon?”

“No, not for a while, at least.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m taking my old job back, in Yellowstone.”

“Wow, that sounds nice. What do you do there?”

Nicole said, “I work at Yellowstone Lake Hotel in the pantry section. I put together deserts and appetizers.”

“And you get to live in Yellowstone? That’s great. That seems way more interesting than what I do for a living.”

People always said that to Nicole, and she was always annoyed by what it inferred. Traveling to a national park and working for a summer was too easy for your average young adult with no children. All it took was an ounce of adventure and maybe a Greyhound ticket. They were admitting outright that, during their young and new adulthood, they knowingly chose to be a slave to their profession, to college, or to a significant other, instead of simply venturing out, seeing the world, discovering things like working in a park—even for one summer.

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