Luckily for him, he had Waylon in his life to control the board most of the time. Waylon had mentored him and guided him though some of his toughest business decisions.
“Hello, godson,” the older man said when he answered.
“Waylon, the board is driving me crazy,” Douglas admitted. “I know they want me gone and I’m beginning to think Amy is working against me too.”
“Calm down, son. These guys want you out of Welco, but your father groomed you your whole life for this. Don’t let these old bastards push you around. Take a deep breath and show them who Doug Trey is.”
Hearing his nickname brought a smile to Douglas’s face. “All right, doc,” he replied. “Did you take a look at my business park plans?”
“Uh, I haven’t really looked over them. I’m retired, remember? I’ll get back to you in a few days, but isn’t this decision already made?”
Sighing, Douglas wished he’d gone to Waylon before presenting this business park idea to the board. What if he was going about building this place the wrong way?
I can’t second-guess myself; that’s what they expect.
“You’re still there?” Waylon asked, breaking into Douglas’s thoughts.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to go. We’ll have to have dinner sometime this week,” said Douglas. He said good-bye and hung up when he noticed Amy standing at his door. “What?”
“Sir,” she said nervously. “That woman won’t leave. She’s handcuffed herself to my desk, sir. With her free hand, she keeps knocking papers off my desk.”
Muttering a string of curses and profanities that would make a sailor blush, Douglas snatched his phone off the hook and dialed security. “There is a woman who needs to be removed from the building. You’ll notice that she’s wearing handcuffs,” Douglas growled at the guard. Slamming the phone down, he walked over to the door and peered at the woman cuffed to Amy’s desk as she dug in a huge brown sack. Thinking she might have a gun, Douglas immediately pulled Amy into his office and slammed the door. They ducked behind his desk, waiting for the woman to make her next move.
The artificial beauty of the Welco lobby grated on Crystal’s nerves, from the potted silk plants to the shiny marble floors and the huge windows allowing bright sunlight to saturate the building. But there’s no life force here, she thought as she looked around.
Crystal spotted a menacing security officer walking toward her, his massive hand at his side, gripping his flashlight. Dropping her bag to the floor, she sat down on the marble crossing her legs Indian style. This wasn’t her first time standing up—rather sitting down—to corporate security. She and some of the girls from the Starlight House had protested at the local mall because security officers had harassed a number of young people for no reason. The Reeseville Mall ended up donating a hundred thousand dollars to the Starlight House to stop the weekly protests and the security guards were trained how to deal with diverse youth. Crystal’s reputation as a community activist was born the day the settlement was announced. But she worried about living up to her family’s legacy. Hughes Farm, which meant so much to the community, had been handed down each generation and she refused to be the one member of the family to mess things up and lose it.
She also didn’t want to be viewed as some liberal nut either. Still, there was a right and a wrong way to do things. Many in the community already questioned if Crystal could handle running the farm and why she allowed the Starlight House to be built there. She’d heard the murmurs around town about her not doing as good a job with the farm as her parents. People questioned why she stopped raising livestock, accused her of being a hippie, and said she was going to ruin what took decades to build.
Maybe those whispers helped spur her anger toward Welco. People expected her to fail, and Welco buying out the farm wasn’t going to prove her naysayers right. If she had to protest every day or sue to keep what was her family’s, then she would. Douglas Wellington III was going to rue the day he tried to take over her farm. This was only the beginning.
The Welco security officer, who reminded her of an ogre from Greek mythology, snarled at her before saying, “Ma’am, unlock these handcuffs and leave.”
Rolling her eyes, Crystal stood up to the towering guard. “If you want me to leave, get Wellington out here, otherwise, I’m camping out. What’s right is right. I don’t want to make a scene, but I will and the whole town will see it.” Crystal threw her hand up, illustrating how close they were to the big bay window. Slowly, she returned to her seat on the floor.
The security officer ripped his radio from his hip holster as Crystal pulled a bottle of water from her bag. “All right,” the officer said. “Show me that you don’t have a gun in that sack and I’ll see about getting Wellington out here.”
Crystal looked at him quizzically as she opened up her bag to show him the contents: two more bottles of water and three apples. “Why the change of heart?”
Placing his hand on her shoulder, he smiled. “He ain’t my favorite person, either. Hold tight.” The officer waddled down the hall and disappeared behind glass double doors.
Crystal drank her water slowly, waiting for something to happen. When is old Wellington going to appear? she wondered, her frustration increasing, She’d already built an image of this monster in her mind—pencil thin, receding gray hair, a potbelly, and crooked teeth. Only a monster like that would want to displace people for the almighty dollar. Only a man with ice water in his veins rather than blood would view people as if they were a commodity to be bought and sold. Not Crystal—she wasn’t for sale.
Moments later, a tall man, moving with the grace of a panther and the body of a Greek god, crossed the lobby and planted himself in front of her. Crystal gazed up at him, momentarily speechless as he stared at her with slate gray eyes. His full lips seemingly beckoned her to kiss them and those hands—big and wide with long fingers—she wanted them on her body, caressing her breasts, thighs, and everything in between. Rapidly, she blinked and swallowed hard. She needed to get her hormones together; she wasn’t here to lust after this man, whoever he was. She was here to meet with Wellington and she didn’t give a damn if they sent Denzel Washington to the lobby to meet her—Crystal wasn’t moving until she got what she wanted. Still, the man looking at her was fine as hell.
His face told a story of annoyance, with a scowl darkening his handsome features and his wide nostrils flaring with anger. “Are you going to just stare at me or do you have something to say?” His voice reminded her of a sensual sax, hypnotic and melodic. Her body was electrified at the thought of him whispering sweet words of passion in her ear.
“I’m not talking to anyone but Douglas Wellington.” Crystal’s voice wavered, but not from fear. Carnal desire described what she was feeling as she stared into his eyes.
“I am Douglas Wellington,” he announced dryly.
Now on her feet, Crystal was dumbfounded. There was no way a man this beautiful could be as cold and callous as the man she’d dreamed up in her head. Where were his fangs, protruding belly, and horns? The scent of burning sulfur and brimstone? “What? You’re Douglas Wellington?”
He folded his arms across his chest and shot her a look of irritation. “This is fascinating and all, listening to you repeat my name. But what the hell do you want, lady? Most people make a phone call and set an appointment to get a meeting. This is a distraction that’s interrupting my workday.”
Narrowing her dark eyes into slits, Crystal exclaimed, “My land is not for sale, you pompous ass. If you think for one second that I will allow you to come on to my property and just take over because you want to, you can forget it.”
Douglas laughed and turned to walk away. “If you read the letter that was mailed to you about my company’s plans, there was a number for my attorney that you can call. I suggest you do that,” he said. “And uncuff yourself,” he added, “otherwise, I’m calling the police.”
“And I’m calling the press, jerk! Do you realize what you’re planni
ng to destroy all in the name of corporate greed? People need this land and I will fight you tooth and nail to make sure it stays in my possession. So, get ready to lose.”
Douglas waved her off as if she were a gnat buzzing around his ear. “If you don’t unshackle yourself by the time I get in my office, and then get out of this building, I will press charges when the police arrive.”
Chapter 2
Douglas closed his eyes once he reached his desk. The first time he exhaled, he realized that he’d been holding his breath the entire time he was talking to that woman. Her beauty bewitched him, sending his heart rate into overdrive, until she opened her mouth. Her long legs, caramel skin, and ink black hair were burned onto his brain cells, and his loins ached for her. Douglas had never felt such a raw sexual yearning for a woman before. Standing up, he looked out into the lobby to make sure she’d left. To his surprise, she was still there, causing his desire to turn into anger. The last thing he needed was that woman sitting in his lobby distracting him. He picked up the phone to call the police, but he couldn’t bring himself to complete the call.
Slamming the receiver down, Douglas stormed out of the office just to come face to face with the woman again. Forcing himself to look past her angelic features, he glowered at her. “Didn’t I tell you to leave?”
“And you think I’m a woman who does what she’s told? I’ll leave when you back off my land. You’re not going to force me to sell it to you because you think you know what this community needs. Do you even live here? I bet you spend your weekends running around looking for other things to take over. You don’t give a damn about Reeseville and the people who live here. You just want to add another feather in your cap.”
Damn, she’s fine when she’s angry, he thought as she pointed her finger in his face and shook her head from side to side, causing her silky hair to whip across her face. Douglas wanted to reach out and touch her skin, it looked so smooth. But she was saying all the wrong things with those sexy lips of hers.
And did she realize that construction of the business park she wanted to block would employ more than fifteen hundred people in Duval County, especially the western portion of the county? That raggedy farm operation was worth more torn down than whatever she had going on there. Besides, this project was something he had to complete, something to honor his father. Douglas Wellington Jr. wasn’t an easy man to love and Douglas hadn’t wanted to be like his father at all. But since his father’s death, he’d wanted to do something to honor his legacy, at least his public image—a man from the wrong side of the tracks who’d done well. This business project had been important to him, at least according to the old file that Douglas had found. No matter how pretty she was, this woman wasn’t going to stand in his way.
“And another thing,” she said, poking him in the chest. “People aren’t for sale. You think because you have money that you can just get your way.”
Douglas shook his head, wanting to kiss her supple lips and press her body against his; but at the same time he wanted to have her thrown in jail for trespassing. It was bad enough that he had to justify his decisions to the board. Now this woman was standing in the lobby of his company berating him. She was probably a plant by the board to disrupt his day so that he would be off kilter for his meeting.
“Miss, I’m asking for the last time. Please leave.”
“The name is Crystal Hughes. And the Hughes Farm isn’t going to be sold.” She reached into her purse and retrieved a small silver key to unlock her handcuffs. “Back off or you will be in for the fight of your sorry life.”
Laughing, Douglas reached out and touched Crystal’s arm. “Everyone has a price. Why don’t I just add a few more zeros to the company’s first offer and you can take your righteous indignation someplace else?”
Crystal grabbed her bottle of water and tossed its contents in Douglas’s face. “Buy that, you jackass! This isn’t over.”
Douglas watched as Crystal stomped out the door, at the same time that Clive Oldsman, chairman of the Welco board of directors, walked in. She nearly pushed the old man out of the way as she stormed out.
Wiping the cool water from his face, Douglas tossed his hands up as Clive questioned him with a cold stare.
“What was that all about?” the old man asked.
“You know how people are in this town,” Douglas replied. Amy rushed over to him with a white hand towel. Nodding thanks to his assistant and wiping his face, Douglas turned to Clive, who scowled at him. “Why are you here, Clive?” Douglas asked.
“Maybe we should go into your office and talk. We need to have this conversation in private.”
Thinking that the last thing he wanted to do was be in a confined space with Clive, Douglas reluctantly led the man into his office. What else can go wrong today? he wondered.
Clive perched himself on the edge of Douglas’s desk. “The Welco Business Park project is moving a little too slowly, don’t you think? The plans are right there. You should make it happen.”
“What do you want me to do, Clive? Beat the residents out there until they sign over their land?”
Pulling a Cuban cigar from his jacket pocket, Clive chomped down on the brown stogie. Douglas sized up the older man, knowing the rest of the board sent Clive to spy on him. They didn’t like him and thought he was too aggressive in some of the business decisions that he made. But one thing they didn’t complain about was the amount of money they made.
“Don’t light that in here,” Douglas said forcefully. “This project will get done on time. I know what my job is and I would appreciate it if you all would let me do it.”
Moving the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other, Clive leaned in and looked Douglas in the eye. “You’re not doing your job, and quite frankly, we’re tired of your incompetence. These nickel and dime projects aren’t going to increase our revenues. We need this business park, so make it happen.” Clive stood up and headed for the door, and then he abruptly turned around. “The only reason you’re here is because the board has enormous respect for your father. Wellington men built this company, but before we allow old loyalties to destroy it, we will remove you as CEO and get someone more capable to take charge.”
Leaping to his feet, Douglas rushed toward Clive. “You will not take this company from me. You’re still making money, Clive. You’re still a millionaire off these nickel and dime projects. So you can tell the board and anyone else that this project will proceed and I’m not going anywhere.”
Clive slammed out of the office, leaving Douglas alone to wonder why he stuck around to take this abuse. Slumping in his chair, Douglas thought back to the days when his father ran the company and he did everything he could to run away from it.
He’d never had any intention of becoming CEO of Welco Industries, the company that robbed his father of his family, his health, and his life. Douglas wanted to strike out and do something different. His plan was to get into the music industry like Jermaine Dupri. Then Waylon called him and told him about his father’s cancer. It was his senior year of college and he’d already gotten an internship with the record company, So So Def. He’d been on his way to meet with a singing group that he’d planned to introduce to Jermaine. Then the phone rang and his life changed forever.
“Your father needs you,” Waylon had said.
“Not this again, Waylon. I don’t want to join the family business.”
“Stop being selfish. Do you know your father has colon cancer?”
That revelation had stopped Douglas dead in his tracks. Douglas Wellington Jr. was the closest thing to Superman that he’d ever known. His father couldn’t have cancer. Pushing his dreams aside, Douglas returned to Reeseville to learn everything he could about Welco. When his father died, he took over and became the youngest CEO in company history. He would’ve considered that a great accomplishment had he wanted the job. But he felt as if he was wearing leather loafers that didn’t belong to him.
Still, he tried to do what he th
ought his father would’ve done. He bought things, tore things down, put the name Welco everywhere.
I would have done better just painting a target on my back, he thought as he leaned back in his chair.
By the time Crystal arrived home, her blood boiled with anger. Douglas Wellington III was the most arrogant man who had ever crossed her path. How was she going to tell Mrs. Fey that they might have to move the Starlight House? Especially when no one else in the county wanted the home for girls anywhere near their property. Sitting in the driveway, she banged her hands against the steering wheel. How was she going to fix this?
Do these companies do any research before they make these grabs for land? she thought as tears welled up in her eyes. Hughes Farm was much more than a piece of land. The farm had been in Crystal’s family since the turn of the last century. Casio Hughes had been a sharecropper on the farm when it belonged to Simon Winchell. During the influenza outbreak of 1918, Simon’s wife and two sons died, leaving him alone with more land to work than he could handle. The Hughes family fared much better. Casio’s wife and four sons were spared and they took care of Simon, tending the land, burying his family, and comforting him. When Simon was stricken with the flu, he made a last-minute change to his will, leaving his land to Casio Hughes and his family.
Generation after generation of Hughes grew up in west Duval County. Up until 1985, the farm was fully functioning, producing tobacco, cotton, corn, and soybeans. But a declining agricultural economy forced the Hughes family to find another way to make a living. When Crystal’s grandfather, Ryan, invested in the family’s land, building single family homes and renting them to Section Eight recipients, the family and the land flourished. Following Ryan Hughes’s death in 1990, Crystal’s parents, Joel and Erin, took over and started the community farm after homelessness became a problem in Reeseville. Joel and Erin retired the year Crystal graduated from North Carolina A & T State University and turned the reins of Hughes Farm over to her. With a degree in agricultural science, Crystal had always planned on returning to Reeseville to make some differences on the farm. So far, though, she hadn’t done anything with her degree. Crystal continued renting to low income families, growing vegetables in the community garden, and helping others the way someone helped her ancestors.
Forces of Nature Page 2