Forces of Nature (6 page)

Standing, Douglas grabbed his drink and finished it. “I don't need to hear this right now. Maybe someone should have told me this earlier. And why does it matter so much to you? Besides, if it was so historic and important, why did Dad want it years ago?”

Waylon cleared his throat, then placed his hand on Douglas's shoulder. “You're the one in charge; you should have done your homework. Put the martinis down and find another site. I know I asked you to come back here and run the company after your father died, but you don't have to follow in his footsteps with every project. He made some bad decisions and you don't have to take up where he left off.”

“Isn't that what the board expects? Me to be his clone? This business park plan was written in such detail that I thought it was going to be a cake walk.”

“Fix this,” Waylon said as he moved Douglas's glass out of reach. “Read the entire file and stop half-assing your job.”

Douglas rose to his feet, feeling like a five-year-old who'd just been scolded, and walked out of the bar. He climbed into the limo and grabbed a bottle of water from the minibar.

“To Welco, sir?” the driver asked.

Douglas nodded as he leaned back in the soft leather seat.

Arriving at the office, Douglas breezed up the back steps hoping to avoid reporters or any straggling board members. He made it to his office without running into anyone.

“Any messages, Amy?”

Like a robot, his assistant handed him a stack of pink slips. “And Clive Oldsman was looking for you. He said he'll be back.”

Muttering words too profane for a lady to hear, Douglas slammed into his office. When he sat down behind his desk, he flipped through the stack of messages. He stopped after seeing Crystal's name. Grabbing his phone, he dialed the number on the slip of paper.

“Carlyle, Hopkins and Robinson, how may I direct your call?”

“I must have the wrong number. I'm looking for Crystal Hughes,” Douglas said.

“Hold on, sir,” the woman said.

Seconds later, another woman picked up the phone and introduced herself as Dena Hopkins.

“I thought this was Crystal Hughes's number,” he said.

“I'm her attorney. We want a meeting, Mr. Wellington.”

“For what?” Douglas asked, putting up his guard. He hated that he had gotten so distracted by Crystal's beauty when he had business to take care of.

“My client doesn't want to lose her land and we would like to talk about other ways this could be handled.”

“I'll meet with you, but the result will be the same. What time would you all like to come in?”

Dena sighed. “Mr. Wellington, if you're not willing to negotiate, then we should just meet in court.”

“Court?”

“Yes, court. My client has made it clear that she isn't giving up without a fight and we are prepared to take this all the way,” she said. “We'll see you tomorrow at nine a.m.” Dena hung up before Douglas could respond.

Deciding that he had to play hardball with Crystal, he called his team of corporate lawyers.

The shrill ringing of the phone jolted Crystal from her nap, and it couldn't have come at a worse time, because she'd been dreaming of making love to Douglas. She snatched the cordless phone from the base and growled hello into it.

“Crystal, it's Dena. I just had a conversation with Mr. Wellington and he has agreed to a meeting with us.”

Swinging her legs over the side of the sofa, she felt a warm rush through her body at the sound of Douglas's name. “When?”

“Tomorrow morning at nine. He wants us to meet him at his office. Now, you know how much I adore your fighting spirit, but I need you to let me do the talking.”

“Fine, I'll be there. Thank you for getting to work on this for me,” Crystal said.

“You know how close I've always been with your parents, and there is no way I'm going to let Welco come in with this land grab. I see the apple didn't fall far from the tree,” she said cryptically. Crystal was puzzled by Dena's tone, but moreover, she wondered if she should've called her parents before involving their lawyer.

The last thing she wanted was for her parents to leave their sunny retirement home in Miami to come back to Reeseville and get into this dogfight.
They trusted me to run this farm and I'm not going to go crying to them like a baby,
she thought as she walked into her bedroom to find a suitable outfit for the meeting. As she flipped through the clothes in her closet, Crystal decided to wear a charcoal gray pencil skirt and pink tunic. She couldn't wait to see Douglas's face when she showed up looking the part of a professional and not a protester. Then again, she couldn't wait to see Douglas's face again, period.

What if there was another way? she wondered as she pressed her finger against her lips. She had to get Douglas to stay on the farm for more than a few minutes. What if he stayed there for a week and saw the inner workings of the farm? Felt the peace and tranquility of the land and saw what a difference being there made in the lives of the Starlight girls. Unless he actually was the heartless bastard who called those girls delinquents, there was no way he'd continue with the plans to demolish Hughes Farm. She wondered, though, would this plan make matters better or worse?

 

 

The next morning, Crystal woke up early feeling nervous about the meeting. She'd promised to take a backseat and allow Dena to do all the talking, but would it be possible to hide her attraction to Douglas Wellington? Would being that close to him, engulfed in his manliness, turn her brain into mush, or worse yet, cause her to revisit the dreams she'd been having about him? Rising from the bed, she headed to the bathroom, showered quickly, then dressed. Pulling her hair back in a bun, Crystal decided to grab breakfast once she got into town, although her stomach was in knots and she didn't think she'd be able to keep any food down at all. If she and Dena could get through to Douglas and he backed off her land, then she'd be convinced he wasn't evil and would take him up on that dinner offer.

Crystal didn't date much as her main focus was always working on the farm. Plus, there weren't a lot of men who met her lofty standards, a man with a sensitive soul, love of land, animals, and art.
That ain't Douglas Wellington, so stop thinking about him,
she told herself as she walked to her car.

Nervousness flowed through her body like blood through her veins as she drove up to the Welco Industries building. She inhaled deeply, hoping that the burst of oxygen would calm her nerves. Strengthening her resolve, Crystal emerged from the car, smoothed her skirt, and walked into the building. She recognized the security guard from her last visit to Welco.

“Back again,” he said when he looked up at her. “Where are the handcuffs?”

“I have an appointment this time,” she said, shooting him a sly smile.

“Let me check.” He picked up the house phone just as Dena walked over to them.

“He's not giving you problems, is he?” Dena asked.

Crystal shook her head and stifled a laugh. “We're old friends.”

Dena leaned against the desk, waiting for the security guard to get off the phone. “Well, is Mr. Wellington ready for us?”

“Yes, ma'am. He's on his way out to see you all.”

Crystal's breathing became shallow as she spotted Douglas and another man walking in her direction. She assumed the wiry white man walking with him was one of his many lawyers. As usual, Douglas looked incredibly sexy in his custom-tailored navy blue suit and crisp white shirt and the overhead lights dancing on his gold cuff links. His intoxicating cologne filled the air and frazzled her senses. Crystal looked away and focused her attention on Dena, the woman her mother always called a five-foot-five force of nature.

“Ladies, my office is this way,” Douglas said, his voice sounding like a sweet symphony to Crystal.

The foursome walked into Douglas's office where three more suits were waiting. Crystal turned to Dena after they'd taken their seats. “Looks like they have the entire legal staff here.”

“It's just a ploy to intimidate us,” Dena replied confidently, then faced the four lawyers. “Gentlemen, my client and I only have one thing to say—we're not moving.”

Dena stood and touched Crystal's arm so that she would follow suit.

“Then what was the purpose of this meeting?” one of the attorneys asked.

Dena reached into her leather briefcase and withdrew a blue document. “This is a summons to appear in court. We're seeking an injunction to stop any construction near the farm. Obviously, you all thought this was about money and to get what you wanted all you had to do was add more zeros to the check. Well, it doesn't work like that. And, if this was about a negotiation and not intimidation, all of you wouldn't be here.” She waved her hand at the cavalcade of lawyers. “Let me be clear, this isn't my first time at the rodeo and we won't be intimidated by these high-handed actions.” She passed the document to Douglas.

“What?” Douglas snapped, leaping from his seat when he looked at it.

Crystal folded her arms across her chest and cocked her head to the side. “I told you I wasn't going to roll over and play dead for Welco Industries.” Dena shot a look to Crystal telling her to save it.

One of the lawyers cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “Let me see that.” He took the document from Douglas's hand.

Dena nodded toward the door and she and Crystal took their leave.

Douglas ran after them, catching Crystal by the arm. “Do you really want to throw down the gauntlet like this?” he asked. “This will get ugly, and if you and your attorney think that was intimidating, wait until we get inside the courtroom.”

“Please take your hands off me,” she replied breathlessly. The touch of his hand against her skin rippled through her nervous system, causing her to quake inside.

“Crystal, you can relocate, you can buy more land. . . .”

Focusing her stare on him, she pushed his hand away. “This isn't about the land, this is about a legacy. This is about my family's blood, sweat, and tears. So, take your money and shove it.”

“I'm shoving it under your nose. I would advise you to take it. You won't win in court.”

Dena stepped in between Douglas and Crystal, placing her hand on his chest. “Mr. Wellington, you have more to lose than my client—tread lightly. Crystal, let's go.”

“You don't want to do this,” Douglas called out after her.

Crystal waved her hand in the air, dismissing him as she and Dena walked out the door.

 

 

Douglas stood against the wall, watching Crystal's hips sway as she left. He didn't want to fight with her and he didn't want to get nasty to get that land, but if he had to, he would. This was business and if she wanted to run with the big dogs, she was going to need more than some small-town lawyer to win. At the end of the day, though, he hoped Crystal would forgive him when it was all over. In an ideal world, she'd be standing by his side when the business park was built, sharing in his success. Douglas walked back to his office and dismissed his legal staff. In the quiet of his office, he began to look into the mythology of Hughes Farm. The vast number of articles that popped up on the screen shocked him. Leaning back, Douglas read the history of the farm, starting with Casio Hughes, a sharecropper who first took ownership of the farm in 1921, following a lengthy court battle with the Winchell family after the reading of Simon Winchell's will.

So, fighting runs in the family
, Douglas thought as he rubbed his aching eyes. The next article detailed the success of Hughes Farm over the next fifty years, from cotton to tobacco to soybeans, and finally to a low-income housing community. He began to see why Crystal was so protective of the place. But if the land was this historic, what had his father been trying to accomplish by purchasing it? The file about the farm was old and thoroughly researched. Even at the time of his death, Douglas Wellington Jr. had been trying to bring the farm under the company's umbrella.
Why is this happening? The woman of my dreams hates me and I have to take her land.

Douglas stood up and walked to the window overlooking sleepy Reeseville. The skyline of the town wasn't impressive like Charlotte or Atlanta, but Welco could make it that way. With the right development, Reeseville could be a progressive city with booming employment and growth. But what was it going to take to make Crystal understand that? Hopefully the court case would be over soon and he and Crystal could reach some kind of middle ground and get to know one another better. He needed her in his life; her aura was so positive and vibrant. No woman had ever touched him the way Crystal had. And no woman had ever told him no either.

Crystal's no different,
he thought, adjusting his tie.
I just have to get her to see things my way.

 

 

Sitting at an outside table at the Main Street Café, Crystal quietly sipped a cup of green tea. The scene in Douglas's office replayed in her mind. He wasn't going to give up until he got what he wanted and Crystal wasn't about to let that happen.
How can I appeal to his human side? He knows what it's like to have a family tradition. Hell, if someone wanted to take Welco he wouldn't roll over and let it happen.

Draining her teacup, Crystal grabbed her cell phone and called Welco Industries.

A drone voice answered the phone. “Welco Industries, how may I direct your call?”

“Douglas Wellington, please.”

Classical music played in Crystal's ear as she tried to think of something to say.

“Mr. Wellington's office,” his assistant said.

“Is Mr. Wellington available?”

“May I tell him who's calling?”

“Crystal Hughes.”

Moments later, Douglas breathed her name, sending shivers down her spine. “This is a nice surprise.”

“I don't want to fight dirty, but I will,” she said. “Why don't you come out to the farm and see what it means to the community?”

“There's no doubt that Hughes Farm is important to Reeseville, but I don't see how spending any time out there will change anything,” Douglas said. “However, if this is your cute way of accepting my dinner invitation . . .”

“You've only briefly seen the land. There's nothing like waking up and smelling the dew-covered roses and honeysuckle. I'm pleading with you, please consider it,” she said.

“Fine, I'll consider it. But what about this injunction?”

“Spend a week at Hughes Farm and I'm sure you will change your mind about wanting to destroy this land to build a business park.”

Douglas laughed. “I doubt that, but I will take you up on your offer, Ms. Hughes. When do you want to make this happen?”

“This weekend, I'll fix up one of the guest cottages and you can move in,” Crystal said as the wheels spun in her head. Sure, her plan was hokey and Douglas might not change his mind. But Crystal believed that nature, and especially the beauty of Hughes Farm, would have some kind of impact on him. Maybe seeing how much people depended on the food she raised there and how much the Starlight girls needed a home would give him pause. Dena wasn't going to like it one bit, though.

“Ms. Hughes, I look forward to it. I'll have someone bring my things over Saturday morning.”

Crystal smiled, knowing that once Douglas got on her turf she would be able to change his mind by any means necessary. But would she be able to keep things strictly professional?
Of course I can,
she thought as she pulled cash from her purse to pay for her tea.

A half an hour, one muffin, and two more cups of tea later, Crystal called Dena. There was no way she could keep her plan under wraps. Besides, she needed Dena to get their court appearance pushed back.

“Absolutely not,” Dena balked when Crystal made her suggestion. “What do you think having that man on your property will do? He'll probably draw up new plans for the business park. Where did you come up with this hair-brained idea? A Lifetime movie?”

“Dena, this is my decision. Let's be real about this. Douglas has a legal staff that can tie us up in so much red tape.”

“Is there something I should know about?” Dena asked suspiciously.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Crystal toyed with the half-eaten muffin she'd been nibbling on.

“You just speak of him with such familiarity. Have you forgotten that he is trying take your property? Your family legacy? City council is in Welco's pocket, and we have a fight on our hands,” Dena said gruffly. “Just what in the hell do you think inviting him to stay at the farm will accomplish? If anything, he'll get more ammo to use against us. Let me tell you something about men like Wellington: they are not sentimental. Roses, fresh fruit, and crying little girls don't mean a damned thing to them.”