THIRTY-ONE
A week later, Charles abruptly walked into Rachel’s office. He had not made an appointment, as was his custom, so she was surprised to see him.
“Hello, Charles.”
“Yeah, Rachel, good morning.” He plopped into the chair, his bony legs sticking from under his blue shorts. “I just left the attorney’s office.”
“Oh, good. What did he say?” She put the pen in her hand on the desk and listened attentively.
“The attorney’s suggestion is for him to send a certified letter to John Brigham demanding he never hold a poker game, or any other sort of gambling, in his residence. He said the letter he composed would say if such activity continued, the condo association would seek relief, which could mean him being removed from the building.”
“That’s fair. It also takes the weight off of yo
