Emerging from the car, Crystal wiped her eyes and walked over to the Starlight House. Looking at the two-story wood-framed house decorated with gold stars, she knew that no one would take those girls in if Welco Industries had their way and bulldozed the house and everything else on the property. Knocking on the door, she took a step back, trying to figure out how to stop Welco’s plans. One of the staff members answered the door. “Hi, Crystal.”
“Lorraine, is Mrs. Fey here?” Crystal asked.
“She went in to town. Is something wrong? You look a little flustered.” Lorraine beckoned for Crystal to come in.
Shaking her head and touching Lorraine’s shoulder, Crystal couldn’t find the words to say what was really wrong. “Just have her stop by my house when she returns, please.”
Nodding, Lorraine agreed to do so.
On the walk back to her house, Crystal decided that the only way to fight fire was with fire. Glancing over her shoulder and looking at the girls working in the garden, she realized the media would love this story; it had the trappings of being a lead story. Displacing a group of girls for corporate greed would make the front page of every paper within fifteen miles of Reeseville. TV would pick up on the story too. Crystal could see the faces of the Starlight girls on the six o’clock news. “Douglas Wellington, you’ve messed with the wrong person this time,” she muttered. Crystal ran into the house and began making calls to the media.
After the day Douglas had, he needed the drink that he held in his hand. The cold martini burned when it hit his throat. This was good. A hand touched his shoulder and Douglas turned his head slightly. “Deloris Tucker, what do you want?” His blood pressure had shot up at least a hundred points. The last thing he needed was to deal with this reporter. Douglas was sure that Deloris wanted to get a job with a big time newspaper, so she went out of her way to cover every story involving Welco as if it was some big scandal. He couldn’t wait until she got her dream job so that she would stop being his ultimate nightmare.
“Not happy to see me?” she asked, smiling coldly. “I got a call from a Crystal Hughes at the office today. You’re displacing kids now?” Pulling a digital recorder from her purse, she shoved it under Douglas’s nose. “So, Mr. Wellington, is it true that Welco is making a play for Hughes Farm in order to build an office park?”
Glaring at the reporter, Douglas set his glass on the bar. “No comment.”
Deloris threw up her hands. “If that’s how you want it. But according to Ms. Hughes, this land is historic and the location of a group home that no one else wants to accommodate. If your plans go through, then those girls have no home. Do you really want to come off looking colder and more heartless than normal?”
“And if this business park doesn’t go up, fifteen hundred people don’t have jobs. Twenty delinquents having a home or thousands of families putting food on their table; which is best for Reeseville?” Douglas rose to his feet, pulled his wallet from his pocket, and dropped the cash for the martini on the bar. “Good evening, Ms. Tucker.”
Douglas stormed out of the bar, hopped into his silver Jaguar, and sped out of the parking lot. Lowering the convertible top, he headed for the highway. The wind against his face made him feel free. He needed freedom, needed to get away from all of the prying eyes that watched his every move. Douglas questioned why he took over Welco Industries after his father’s death. Maybe the board was right and he was too young to handle the responsibilities of running the company. He couldn’t be the P. Diddy of industry, but he tried to be pioneering with running Welco. Most of the time, the board balked at his more innovative projects. When he wanted to look toward investing in wind energy and natural gas energy, the board wasn’t interested. Solar energy farms? Not at all.
When he’d said that he wanted to make Welco more of a part of the community, sponsor some events and things like that, Clive was the first one to scream that those social events would do nothing for the company’s bottom line. Maybe if the company had done more in the community, people like Crystal Hughes wouldn’t think of it as an evil empire. And maybe she wouldn’t look at him as the devil.
The board had warned him about making himself the “face” of Welco. But while Douglas’s plan was to make the huge company seem more personable, what he ended up doing was giving the press and people like Crystal Hughes a target.
Her name sent shivers down his spine. That woman was so sexy, so alluring, and such a pain in his rear end. Why couldn’t they have met in a bar, Crystal wearing something low cut and tight, clinging to her luscious curves? He’d buy her a drink, take her for a fast ride in his Jag, and watch the wind blow through her silky hair.
Pressing the gas, Douglas opened the engine up, sending the speedometer over one hundred miles per hour. The excitement of speeding down the road made him tingle, much like good sex would. But who had time for a sex life? Douglas couldn’t find a woman who was actually interested in him and not his bank account—another problem in making himself Welco’s face.
But Crystal didn’t seem like the gold-digging type. Quickly Douglas put the brakes on his thoughts. She might not be a gold digger, but she was the enemy. Sexy as hell, but his enemy nonetheless.
The next day, Douglas found out just how much trouble Crystal could be. He picked up the morning newspaper from his front doorstep and the headline jumped out at him. “Woman challenges Welco growth.”
Sitting down on the top step, Douglas read the story intently. He wasn’t surprised to see Deloris’s name on the byline.
If community activist Crystal Hughes has her way, Welco Industries will not expand its development into west Duval County. Hughes, who owns Hughes Farm, said she received a letter from the company offering her $1.5 million for the hundred acres of land outside Reeseville.
“Hughes Farm is more than just a farm,” she said. “When no one else in town wanted to let Starlight House build, I let them in. The crops that I grow out here feed hundreds of homeless people and allow the girls to help other people, which speeds their healing.”
Hughes Farm is a historic part of west Duval County. According to records from the county clerk’s office, the Hughes Farm has been in operation since 1918. While it is not a working farm, more than thirty low income families live in houses on the property.
“A farm is a nurturing place. That is what Hughes Farm is all about. We’re helping families grow, we’re helping the girls at the Starlight House flourish,” said Hughes.
Douglas Wellington III, president and CEO of Welco Industries, said, “And if this business park doesn’t go up, fifteen hundred people don’t have jobs. Twenty delinquents having a home or thousands of families putting food on their table; which is best for Reeseville?”
Crumpling the paper, Douglas tossed it into the recycling bin on the edge of his porch. Standing, he cursed himself for speaking to Deloris because he knew she’d twist his words, like she always did. As he walked into his house, the phone rang. He didn’t need to look at the caller ID display to know it was the office. Of course the board saw the paper and if Douglas knew anything about those old men, he knew they were not amused. Grabbing the phone, he barked hello.
“Mr. Wellington, this is Amy. The board has called an emergency meeting and they’re here waiting for you.”
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “Tell them I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Douglas hung up the phone and plopped down on the sofa. His temples throbbed relentlessly and he hadn’t even had his first cup of coffee. Realizing that the longer he kept the board waiting the harder things were going to be, Douglas pulled himself up, showered, dressed quickly, and headed to the office, ready to take his lumps. Somehow, he was going to have to convince Crystal Hughes to sell him that farm—especially if he planned to keep his job as CEO.
Chapter 3
Crystal placed her newspaper on the table as she reached for her cup of organic, fair trade coffee. Satisfied that she had made some waves, she knew her work had just gotten started.
Sipping the strong coffee, she closed her eyes and saw Douglas Wellington’s face. His slate gray eyes haunted her. Why did he have to be so damned fine? He should’ve looked like the monster in her head instead of the man of her dreams. And what a dream she’d had about him last night, his hands all over her body, touching her in places she didn’t know existed. Those lusciously thick lips kissing hers, sucking her bottom lip, his tongue darting in and out of her mouth. Heat rushed to her cheeks and moisture pooled between her legs as she recalled her dream.
Standing, Crystal walked to the back window overlooking the acres of crops growing in her backyard. The man starring in her erotic dreams wanted to take this away. The man of her dreams was cruel and callous, putting the almighty dollar above the needs of people. She picked up the newspaper and reread Douglas’s comments. How could he make judgments on people he didn’t even know? The Starlight girls weren’t delinquents; they’d just had a bad turn in life. Some of the girls came to Starlight after years of abuse or for committing a petty crime, but after a few months, the difference in the girls was clear to anyone who bothered to look.
Crystal found herself proud of each girl who emerged from Starlight House and became a productive member of society. The girls who completed the program successfully went on to college, many heading for her alma mater, NCA&T. Two former Starlight girls had written a book about the program. Maybe I should give Douglas a copy so that he would know who these kids are that he maligned, she mused.
She looked back out over the land and took another sip of her coffee. What if Douglas Wellington saw what this land meant to people? What if he walked the fertile soil and understood the history of Hughes Farm and why selling it would be a loss for the entire community and not just her family?
Turning toward the garden, she watched several girls from the Starlight House picking ears of corn and peppers. Those vegetables would be washed and donated to the homeless shelter in downtown Reeseville. People needed to know how much of a difference the farm made in the lives of these girls. Crossing the room, Crystal grabbed her phone and called a friend at the local TV station.
“Moses Johnson,” he said when he answered.
“Good morning, Moses. It’s Crystal.”
“I was just about to call you. I just read the paper.”
“Then why don’t you get a camera crew down here. Some of the girls are in the garden and I have a lot to say about Wellington’s comments this morning. How dare he talk about those girls that way! That slimy son of a . . .”
“Whoa, Crystal, calm down. Better yet, save it for the cameras. We’ll roll a crew that way and have you on the noon news,” he said.
Smiling, she told him thanks and hung up the phone. Round two was about to begin. Douglas Wellington III didn’t have any idea who he was messing with.
About an hour later, a news crew from Channel 12 pulled into Hughes Farm. Crystal and some of the girls stood in front of the camera as the reporter set up her shot. Seconds later, Crystal was taking the reporter and the cameraman on a tour of the farm, showing them the crops, the group home, the greenhouses where she grew rare roses and orchids, and finally the steps of her home.
“This house,” she said, “is over four hundred years old. But if Welco has its way, it will be reduced to rubble. History will be erased, and why? So the company can increase its profits?”
The reporter nodded to the cameraman to cut. “Thank you, Ms. Hughes,” she said. “This is very compelling.”
Crystal smiled and shook hands with the petite blond. “Thank you for coming out here.”
The woman returned Crystal’s smile before hopping into the news truck. Crystal wondered if they were heading to Welco Industries. A lightbulb went off in her head and she turned to MJ and Renda. “Grab some markers and meet me on my front steps in thirty minutes.”
The girls looked befuddled, but they followed Crystal’s directive while she ran in her house, grabbed her keys, and then hopped into her car heading for the local office supply store. If there were going to be news cameras at Welco, she was going to be there with picket signs and the very delinquents Douglas wanted to make judgments about. Can you say “round three”?
“Totally unacceptable,” said Clive Oldsman. “Why would you say something like this to a reporter? What in the hell were you thinking about? This makes you and Welco look just like the assholes Crystal Hughes says you are.”
Douglas leapt to his feet as Clive tossed the newspaper in his face. “Look, this is going to blow over. Every time we develop land around here, someone complains. Do you want to scrap our plans and scout another site because of one newspaper article? I’m sure Ms. Hughes has made her point and we shouldn’t hear anything more from her. Now, you all have taken up enough of my time today. Good day, gentlemen.” Opening the door, Douglas waited for the six members of the board to leave. Everyone exited except Clive, who closed the door behind them.
“You’d better make this go away. Our stock is already taking a beating and this can only make it worse,” he hissed.
“I know that,” Douglas said. “But even with the so-called beating that you say our stock is taking, we’re still raking in profits. So, what’s your damned problem?”
Narrowing his eyes at Douglas, Clive sighed. “You’re nothing like your father. He must be turning in his grave as he watches you run this corporation into the ground.”
“Why don’t you get out of here before I say or do something I might not regret,” Douglas replied.
“What I regret is the board appointing you president when you obviously can’t handle it.”
Unable to control his anger, Douglas grabbed Clive by the collar. “You pompous son of a bitch! My family built this company and you’re not taking it away from me. The business park will get built, the stock will rebound, and you will resign from this board.”
Jerking away from Douglas, Clive straightened his shirt and shook his head. “You’ll be out of this company before I will. You can bet the bottom line on that.” He stormed out of the conference room.
Douglas closed his eyes, counted to ten, and prayed for a quiet rest of the day. But as he walked into the lobby, he knew his prayers wouldn’t be answered. A camera crew rushed toward him. “Mr. Wellington, Mr. Wellington,” the reporter called out. “Do you really plan to level Hughes Farm? Do you stand by your comments in the Reeseville Gazette?”
Throwing his hands up, he said, “I have no comment. Now get off my property.”
A few board members who were lingering by the door turned around and followed Douglas into his office. Fred Jones, Dorian Harper and Willis Reed stood in the doorway of Douglas’s office. Fred spoke first. “This is ugly.”
“Very,” said Dorian.
Douglas, who’d taken a seat behind his desk, folded his arms across his chest. “We’ve dealt with worse. Do you remember what happened when we brought Welco-Mart to north Duval County? People said our store would kill all of the mom and pop local businesses. But when those same people saw we used local businesses to build the shopping center and the salaries that Welco-Mart paid, things died down.” Reaching in his desk drawer, Douglas retrieved a bottle of aspirin. Flipping the cap off, he dumped two pills down his throat and swallowed hard.
Willis nodded. “When we built Welco-Mart, we controlled the press. Seems as if Ms. Hughes has the media eating out of her hand. Douglas, I believe you will take care of this, but this Crystal Hughes woman is going to be a problem.”
A sexy problem. Why does she have to be so fine and so difficult? Why does she have to haunt my thoughts? Douglas stood and ushered the three men out of his office. When they walked into the lobby, they saw Crystal, an older woman and seven girls marching on the sidewalk holding picket signs. “Welco hates children,” the signs read.
Douglas’s attention fell on Crystal, who was dressed in a pair of skin-tight jeans that accentuated her luscious curves and taut ass and a white tank top that clung to her supple breasts and exposed a sliver of her flat s
tomach. Her flowing hair was parted down the center and hung on her shoulders in two thick braids, framing her beautiful face. For the first time, Douglas noticed her doe-shaped black eyes, perfectly shaped nose, and those lips. He’d dreamed of those lips since she chained herself to Amy’s desk. Crystal was a classic beauty, the kind of woman he’d shower with diamonds and gold. He wanted to peel those clothes from her body and make slow love to her in a room filled with roses and candles.
One of the girls pointed to the entrance where Douglas and the board members stood. The group started to chant loudly, “Hey, hey, ho, ho, Hughes Farm will not go!”
Douglas felt Crystal’s angry stare focusing on him, but even with a scowl on her face, she was beautiful. Opening the door, he walked outside and sneered at the protesters.
Willis grabbed his shoulder and shook his head. “Don’t make a scene,” he warned.
“I won’t. Maybe I can reason with them.” Douglas just wanted a chance to talk to Crystal. Slowly he crossed over to her, standing inches from her. She lowered her sign and glared at Douglas.
“Ms. Hughes, this is cute, but you can picket here all night and nothing is going to change. The city council and county commission have given us the go ahead on this project, the land will be rezoned, and everyone around you has sold their land to Welco. Why don’t you do the same?”
Forces of Nature Page 3
