Forces of Nature by Cheris Hodges

pressing her body against his.
    â€œYou are, aren’t you?” Waylon questioned.
    â€œNo, 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.
    â€œDon’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 . . .”
    â€œThis 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.”
    â€œIsn’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.”
    â€œFix 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.
    â€œTo 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.
    â€œAny 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.
    â€œCarlyle, Hopkins and Robinson, how may I direct your