Forces of Nature

by Cheris Hodges

  Inwardly, he shuddered, but he flashed a plastic smile. “You have a good day, young lady.”

  MJ stomped away and Douglas returned to watching Crystal as the driver turned back to the road.

  Before they made it back to town, Douglas’s cell phone rang again. “Yeah?”

  “Douglas, it’s Fred. What’s going on with you and those protesters? It was all over the news.”

  “I’ve taken care of it. Don’t worry, this will be over soon,” Douglas said confidently.

  “It better be. I don’t know how much longer I can protect you from Clive. He wants your head on a platter, and some of the other board members are starting to agree with him.”

  Dropping his head, Douglas squeezed his nose. “Can I help it that Hughes Farm means so much to people in the community? Let me handle this so that we can begin construction this winter.”

  “But how do we know this Hughes woman isn’t just holding out for more money?”

  “She’s not like that,” he said defensively.

  Fred groaned knowingly. “Is there something going on with you and this woman that we need to know about?”

  “I have another call coming in, I have to go.” Douglas clicked his phone off and tossed it in the empty seat in front of him.

  “Back to the office, sir?” the driver asked.

  “No, take me downtown to the Arctic,” he said, referring to a popular bar.

  When the limo arrived at the speakeasy, Douglas hopped out before his driver opened the door. Quickly, he shot inside, took a seat at the end of the bar, and ordered a vodka martini with extra olives. The bartender handed him the drink and Douglas downed it in a few gulps, hoping the alcohol would take his yearning for Crystal’s kiss away. It didn’t. The warm burning sensation heightened his senses and he wanted more of her lips. Tapping the bar, he ordered another drink. This time, he sipped it slowly with his eyes closed.

  “Doug?” Waylon asked. “What are you doing here?”

  Opening his eyes, Douglas faced his godfather. “Needed to get away.”

  “The board?”

  Douglas wanted to say yes, but the truth was he could handle the board; it was his feelings for Crystal that were causing his problems.

  “Doug?”

  “It’s that woman, Crystal Hughes.”

  Lifting his eyebrows, Waylon smiled. “I saw her picture on the news. She is a fox.”

  “And she has the softest lips.” Douglas stopped speaking, fearing that the alcohol had loosened his lips a little too much.

  “Don’t tell me that you have gotten personally involved with this woman. That is the last thing you need to do. Trust me.”

  Douglas stared blankly at Waylon. What could he say? Of course he wasn’t personally involved with her, but every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face. When he tried to sleep last night, she invaded his dreams, pressing her body against his.

  “You are, aren’t you?” Waylon questioned.

  “No, though I’d like to be. She’s an amazing woman and so damned sexy.”

  Waylon slapped him on the shoulder. “Are you insane? I know your father and I told you not to mix business with pleasure. And need I remind you how unethical this relationship will be?” What Waylon didn’t tell his godson was a relationship with Crystal Hughes would be like turning back the hands of time and he was sure the result would be the same as it had been years ago. More bitterness, more pain. He couldn’t stop his friend all those years ago, but he’d do everything to keep Douglas from making the same mistake.

  “Don’t worry, we’re nowhere near starting a relationship. She thinks I’m evil for wanting her land.”

  Waylon sighed, waved for the bartender, and ordered a double bourbon. “I think she’s right. Did you do what I asked? Have you looked into the history of Hughes Farm?”

  Douglas gripped his glass like a vice. Waylon was supposed to be on his side, his ally. “No, I haven’t, and it doesn’t matter what the history is. At this late stage, finding another location would set back construction and push us over budget. Besides, this was important to my father. I’d think you’d be behind me on this. This was the last project he’d been working on before his death. And if finding a new place for those girls to live is the only holdup, then I’d be happy to help, but . . .”

  “This has nothing to do with what’s on that farm now. Hughes Farm is the first piece of land owned by an African American in Reeseville. When the textile industry went belly up in the county, Hughes Farm still made millions because that family had the insight to cash in on the ‘organic’ craze. Hughes Farm is a source of pride and it should be a historic landmark. You really need to leave this alone.”

  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.

  Chapter 5

  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 snatche
d 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, star
ting 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.