by Ellie Danes
I went out to the porch to meet the men and women who’d come by, rehearsing what little preparation I’d done in my head.
“Thanks for coming, folks,” I said as they all emerged from their vehicles, headed for me.
Emily waited inside; we’d decided that it would be better if she didn’t reveal herself until she had to. The people in Mustang Ridge mostly trusted me, but they didn’t know her at all. If we started out immediately with the working together bit, it could make people defensive. After all, Emily had gone to a few of those people within the past week to talk to them about selling. It wasn’t going to be easy for her to admit, or for them to believe, that she’d had a change of heart.
“Well, we all have good reason to hear what you’ve got to say,” Jessica, who’d married my friend Nate about a year out of high school, told me.
“You know everyone in town respects you,” Nate pointed out, standing next to her. “You got out of here—you did something with your life. So if you want to talk to us, we’ll listen.”
“Can’t promise we’ll agree, though,” Jeff Becks said, knocking some of the dust off of his shoes against my porch steps.
“All I’m asking for is that you hear me out,” I told them. “Mom’s made some snacks, since I know there won’t be much time for lunch after you get back to your own places.”
I led them all into the house, and Mom came out of the kitchen with a big tray full of snacks in her hands.
“Let me get everyone something to drink,” Mom suggested. “I’ve got iced tea, coffee, beer…”
“Better not have any beers,” Chelsea Knowles pointed out. “But I appreciate the offer. I think I’ll just have tea.”
Most everyone either asked for tea or coffee, and I settled in to explain things to them—and to introduce our special guest.
“Now, I want you all to hear me out—and I want you to hold off on reacting until I explain what’s going on,” I said. “I know you’ve all talked to Emily Lewis over from Houston, and I actually have her here today.”
“Are you making an about-face on your resistance, Rhett?” Jeff looked at me in surprise.
“No.” I smiled wryly. “She is, actually. On her involvement in the project.” I saw everyone looking at each other. “Emily, come on in here, and let’s explain what’s going on.”
Emily came in and I saw that everyone noticed she was in my clothes. A couple of the wives exchanged glances, and I knew I probably should have suggested that Emily wear something of Mom’s, but then that would have attracted some comments, too. I pushed the thought out of my head.
“I asked Rhett to bring you guys here so we could both talk to you,” Emily said. “I know I’ve been going full court press on you guys, trying to get you to sell, but I’ve recently learned some information about the project that makes me think it’s not a great idea.”
“That seems pretty sudden,” Jessica said. “Why don’t you give us the full rundown?”
I took over from there, explaining what Emily had learned the day before.
“So what she thought was a good idea—which I still disagree with, but at least was a smaller invasion—isn’t what’s actually going to happen,” I finished up. “What’s happening is something that will definitely kill the town.”
“If something like that can actually kill the town, does the town even deserve to stand up to it?” Jeff shrugged.
“Do you want to see the town die?” Jessica looked at him sharply. “I mean, I know I don’t.”
“Isn’t this a bit dramatic?” Chelsea looked around the room. “I mean—yes, the big strip mall project would probably put a few people out of business, but most of the farmers would be able to stay.”
“Without the rest of the town, the town council’s going to be taken over by folks from elsewhere,” Nick Parish, another of the guys I’d invited, pointed out. “Those of us who stay behind will be overruled.”
“Looks like we already are,” Jessica said sourly.
“If we can hold off for long enough to force them to have a town meeting, then we might be able to get them to take back their support,” I said. “If you can hold off selling—you folks are all necessary for the project to go on—then we can get the town council to meet with the rest of us, and talk about this fairly.”
“That sounds reasonable, but really it isn’t,” Jeff said. “Some of us that are thinking of selling to Emily’s company, things are leaner than lean for us.”
“So, you just want to pack up and ship off because of a couple of bad seasons?” Jessica raised an eyebrow at him and I resisted the urge to snicker at her sharp words. “I mean, I get it—we’re not all rolling in dough. Most of us barely make a profit by the time costs come out. But one or two bad years isn’t enough to make me want to nuke the town around me.”
Everyone started talking all at once then, and I tried to get a feeling for who was in favor of holding off and who was trying to sell because they were desperate. Emily faded into the background, looking at whoever was speaking at a given time, and I could tell that she was trying just as much as I was to sort out who fell where in terms of support of our position.
“Wait a minute,” Chelsea said. “What I want to know is how we can be sure Emily is legit.”
“What do you mean?” Jessica looked at her curiously.
I sat up, getting ready to do my own part—I had known this would come up.
“I mean, she’s been coming to town for a week or more, trying to sell us on this, and now suddenly she wants us to back out? Maybe I’m paranoid, but it seems like that might be the kind of thing someone would do if they wanted to get some folks to wait too long to sell.”
“For you guys, that isn’t an issue,” Emily said, before I had a chance to jump in. “I know Rhett wants to defend me—but let me say my bit first, if that’s okay.” She looked at me and I nodded for her to go on.
“What do you mean for us it’s not an issue?” Chelsea asked.
Emily smiled slightly. “If I really was working on my dad’s side again, I wouldn’t be telling you this next bit: your properties are crucial to the building plans. Without your land, the project can’t go forward, even if everyone else on our list sells. They need a certain segment of land, and a certain amount of it, and your properties are smack-dab in the middle of where they’re approved to build.”
“So, you’re saying that your dad wouldn’t be able to use everyone else selling as leverage against us?” Chelsea asked.
“We’d absolutely need your land no matter what,” Emily said. “Getting new land zoned for the project would be too much trouble—and it would take even longer. What I’d think is that if you guys push back and put the brakes on, Dad and Jacob will actually start offering you more money.”
“Really?” Justin seemed to like the sound of that.
“We’re still going to need you to hold off, at least until after the town council meets with us,” I said. “Don’t get too excited.”
“I’m just not getting what’s in it for us to not sell,” Chris said. “We’ll still be running lean—and probably leaner—and there won’t even be a way to come back from it. Some of us actually are just about ready to pack up and ship out.” He looked at Jessica a bit bitterly, and I glanced at Emily. Nothing that she was able to do would convince anyone here. I looked up and saw that my mom was standing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. I’d told her what I was thinking of doing, what I’d held in reserve, as sort of my trump card for the situation at hand.
I got up and let the people in the living room argue it out for a while, gesturing for Emily to come with me into the kitchen, along with Mom. Everyone else was so occupied that they didn’t even notice us leave.
“I think I need to take it from here,” I told Emily. “Why don’t you go over the contracts that your co-worker sent you? Or maybe try and talk to your dad, see if he can’t be brought around from that end?”
Emily looked at me steadily for
a moment and then shrugged. “If you think this is the part you should handle on your own, then you should do that,” she said. “We’ve both got our parts to play, after all.”
“I’ll let you know how I get on,” I promised. “And if I can’t get them to agree, we’ll work on what to do after that.”
“I’ll go get my stuff and head out, then,” Emily said. “Dad will be expecting to hear from me anyway.”
“Thanks.” I went back into the living room and watched out of the corner of my eye as Emily left, navigating carefully around the cars and trucks that had come in behind her in the front yard. I waited until she was well away before launching into what I hoped would be the solution to the biggest problem keeping people from holding onto their land.
“Can I speak for a second?” I asked.
Everyone quieted down a bit, and I took a quick breath to steady my nerves. I knew without having to even try it that what I was about to say was going to be a tough sell, but I knew too that it was one of the only ways to resolve the issue. “I know that a lot of us are not doing great financially right now. That’s a big part of why there’s such a strong temptation to sell out.”
“So, what are you going to do about that?” Jeff crossed his arms over his chest and looked at me blandly.
“I’ve got some money,” I said. “I can float some of you—maybe even all of you—for as long as it takes to keep the big development out of the way, until you can get back on your feet.”
My news was met with silence, and I could see disbelief and suspicion on everyone’s faces.
“I know you’re doing well, Rhett, but even if you’re doing the best of all of us here, that’s a little hard to believe,” Jessica said. “And it doesn’t make any sense to make yourself broke bailing the rest of us out.”
“I wouldn’t go broke,” I said.
“You’re going to have to do more than just tell us you can bail us out, if you want us to believe it,” Justin told me. “I mean, I’m sure we’re grateful for the thought, but I don’t think any of us can really buy that you’re in a position to do it—no matter how willing you might be.”
I nodded to Mom and she brought one of the envelopes from Marshall & Marshall to me. I took a deep breath.
I’d finally opened the most recent of the letters from them once Emily and I had come up with the plan of trying to get the “keystone” property owners, as she called them, to hold off on selling. I opened up the folded-up piece of paper and looked at it for a moment.
“This is from the brokerage I used when I got signed to the NFL,” I said quietly. “They’re Marshall & Marshall, and you can verify that I have an account with them.” I lifted the first sheet—showing my name and my account on the official letterhead—and passed it to Justin, gesturing for him to hand it around if he wanted, to the other ten people in the living room. I was keeping the sheet that had my actual balance to myself; I wasn’t going to really tell anyone how much I had managed to come into. There were some things that I wanted to keep to myself.
“Okay, so you’ve got an investment account,” Jessica said, once everyone had looked at the letter and handed it back to me.
“I’m not going to tell you how much, because I’m not all that interested in bragging,” I said. “But I can float you guys.”
Chapter Seventeen
Emily
I could only wait for an update from Rhett, so I decided to take his advice. On the way back to Houston I called Dad to ask him if he’d meet with me. I told him we could do lunch at my place. I needed to get out of the clothes I’d borrowed, plus I thought it would be easier to have the conversation we needed to have in private. I was out of the office for the day, anyway, so it wouldn’t cause him too much alarm for me to ask to meet him at my own place.
My friend Natalie was just coming into the building with her dog when I arrived at the apartment complex, and she held open the door for me. “That’s quite the look, Emmy,” she said, her gaze trailing up and down over me.
I laughed. “Well, I’ll give you the full deets later, but suffice it to say that the clothes aren’t mine.”
Natalie grinned. “Having a little fun out in the middle of nowhere, are we?”
“There are some hot guys in the middle of nowhere,” I told her blandly.
Natalie snorted. “Good job there, hon,” she said, as we walked over to the elevator together. “I’d been wondering when you’d get an actual social life.”
“Not all of us have a lovely trust fund set up for us to live on,” I said. “Some of us actually have to mind our careers a bit.”
“So, what are you doing at home in the middle of the day, then?” She gave me a significant look.
“I’m going up to change my clothes before Dad comes by for lunch,” I explained.
She nodded. “I’m assuming you have bad news for Daddy Dearest, then?”
I pressed my lips together. I could trust Natalie with just about anything—after years of being neighbors, seeing the comings and goings of each other’s one-night stands, watching her dog when she was out of town, drinking on each other’s patios—but I knew that her opinion on what I’d planned to do was not going to be the same as mine. She, like Dad, wasn’t going to see the human cost of what Dad’s plan was. For Natalie, raised on a trust fund and never wanting for anything, it would be a simple matter to relocate for money.
“Just keeping him updated on stuff,” I said.
Natalie shook her head. “If you were doing that, you wouldn’t feel the need to change first,” she said. “And you’d meet him somewhere for lunch instead of having him come here. You want privacy.”
I smiled wryly. She knew me just as well as I knew her.
“I want to try and convince him to do something different from what he’s planning,” I admitted. “It’s still going to make him money, but the plan he’s got...I think it’s a mistake.” I wasn’t willing to tell her more than that—but that should, I thought, be enough.
“Then you’re doing it right,” Natalie said, nodding to emphasize her point. She smiled at me. “I’ve got a few beers in the fridge, if you really want to butter him up.”
I laughed. “I’ve got a few,” I said. “I’m going to cook up some tacos and make a thing of queso for him, put him in a good mood before I get into it with him.”
“Just remember that you’re ultimately doing him a favor,” Natalie told me.
The elevator chimed to let us know it had reached our floor, and we got off together as soon as the doors opened, parting ways at my apartment.
“I’ll let you know how it comes out,” I told her.
“I’ll keep a bottle of Moscato for just that occasion,” she countered.
I grinned and unlocked my door, taking a deep breath. I actually felt a little bit better about what I was going to do. Natalie and Rhett were both right. I was doing the right thing, and ultimately keeping my father from making a mistake. I needed to see it in that light—not in the light of plotting against him.
I got to work and managed to get changed out of Rhett’s clothes, and get the tacos and chile con queso ready by the time Dad knocked on my door. I took a deep breath and let him into my apartment, smiling and mentally rehearsing my approach. I wasn’t going to try to convince him that his plan would actually destroy Mustang Ridge. I was going to try and reason with him, if I could.
“Ah, smells amazing in here, baby girl,” Dad said, giving me a kiss on the forehead as he came in.
“I even have a beer for you,” I told him, leading him over to the dining area next to the kitchen.
Dad grinned and accepted a Lone Star from me, cracking it as I opened up my own. I would need to have a drink with him to make this work.
“Are you planning on coming back to the office this afternoon, or are you going to be working remotely still?” he asked.
I shrugged and went into the kitchen itself to gather everything up for lunch.
“I have a few more things I need
to do outside of the office, but I may swing by toward the end of the day,” I told him. “Just to check messages and make sure all my hard copy paperwork is done, you know.”
He nodded and sat down at my table. I brought out the tortillas and the beef and set them down on the table, where I’d already put the pico, some grated cheese, some crema, and sliced avocado and lime. I went back into the kitchen to retrieve the queso and the chips, and finally sat down myself.
“How are things going in Mustang Ridge?” he asked.
I raised one hand, tilting it side to side to indicate uncertainty.
“I’m thinking some of our key sellers are going to hold out on us a bit,” I said—I could only hope I was right. “And I’ve been thinking about that revised plan that you told me about yesterday.”
“Hell of a win,” Dad told me, smiling proudly as he fixed himself a taco.
“It definitely looks like it’s a big contract,” I agreed. “And we stand to get a lot out of it. But I feel like with something like that, if word gets out about just how big the project actually is, we might end up spending more money than we originally expected.”
“We can cover it with a fee like that, though,” Dad countered.
Okay, so he’s more fully on-board than you thought. Try and work around the subject. Wiggle the loose tooth. I kept eating for a while, letting Dad chatter on about something that had happened that morning in the office, nodding along with his story.
“You know, I feel like the original plan was a lot more consolidated than this one is,” I said, once he got back around to the subject of Mustang Ridge. “This seems really rushed.”
“Jacob works fast,” Dad said, nodding. “But all the details are solid—the plan is definitely a go, as long as we can get those properties and as long as the town doesn’t back out.”
“This was Jacob’s deal?” That surprised me somehow, though I wasn’t sure why it should. I tried not to look self-conscious, which of course made me actually feel more self-conscious. “Yeah—he came up with it and pitched it to the clients after we’d gotten through our first tour there,” Dad said. “He got clearance from me to pursue it once they said they’d be interested, and worked it up.”