by A. J. Wynter
The tears were streaming down Lauren’s face and she didn’t move to wipe them away. “There was a reason,” she whispered. She knew deep down that she had lost him.
“And what reason could there be for you to keep something like that from me?”
“She’s nine,” Lauren said.
“So?” Baxter shook his head. “What does that matter? You’re unbelievable.” He shook his head and turned to open the car door. Lauren stepped back and held her breath as he froze.
“She’s nine?” He still hadn’t turned to face her.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Nine.” She pulled her sweater tighter around her body, the cold finally making its way past her adrenaline. “She’s yours.”
Chapter 26
THE BLINDS IN HIS ROOM were programmed to automatically rise at dawn. Baxter sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. His head throbbed like he had a hangover, even though he hadn’t had a drop. The events from the night before came rushing back to him as he jabbed at his phone to turn off his alarm. He had cycled through a myriad of emotions, and sleep had eluded him for most of the night. He had gone to bed in a rage, woken up in the middle of the night to sadness, but now the rage was back.
How dare she.
She lied. She deceived him and she let him fall in love with her without telling him the truth.
As he brushed his teeth, it hit him. He was a father. That cute precocious little girl was his daughter. He braced himself against the bathroom vanity, gripping the edge of the counter. How could everything have changed so quickly in the last twenty-four hours? He went from being absolutely over the moon in love with a gorgeous woman to an absentee father.
He hadn’t given her the chance to explain. Yes, it had been immature of him, but what else do you do when someone drops a bomb like that on your life? He had jumped in the SUV and driven away as fast as he could, fishtailing through town. Looking back, he remembered the familiarity of her eyes as Tabitha smiled at him at the Winter Carnival. There was no doubt in his mind, that the kid had the exact same eye color as his, and now that he was looking for it, he could see the resemblance. So, not only had she lied to him, she had robbed him of nearly a decade of his daughter’s life.
But would he have wanted it? He didn’t know.
He heard the clanking of the kitchen staff downstairs and the smell of freshly brewed coffee as the executives returned from their day away. Even though it was Sunday, he dressed in his best suit, adjusted his red pocket square, put on a brave face and headed down to meet his team.
He poured himself a coffee and headed into the dining room, but instead of Barry, Thomas, and Nicole, there was only one person at their conference table. His father, Baxter Caldwell, Sr.
“Son, have a seat.” His father gestured to the seat adjacent to the head of the table. Baxter dutifully sat down.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said.
“Barry called me and briefed me on the changes you’ve made to my development.”
“Yes, I have made some changes. I think that you will see that everyone will ben—” Baxter couldn’t finish his sentence before his dad interrupted.
“I didn’t approve these changes.” Mr. Caldwell, Sr. folded his hands on the table.
“The board approved them.” Baxter cleared his throat. “Your board approved them.”
“So they did.” Mr. Caldwell sat back in his chair and adjusted his tie. “And I just un-approved them.”
“But, you can’t...” Baxter was shocked. He had been given authority over this project. The board didn’t need his father’s approval. They took instruction from him.
“I can and I did.”
“If I could just show you the reports, these changes will benefit Caldwell in the long term.” Baxter set his briefcase on the table, pulled out the reports, and set them down in front of his father.
Mr. Caldwell nudged the paperwork away with his fingertips. “I don’t care about the bottom line twenty years from now. So, what if a few bears have to move further north if it makes us money today?”
“It’s not just the bears, Dad. The changes will integrate the local people into the development, not exclude them.”
His dad scoffed, “Who cares? This development isn’t for them. It’s for people who have money. Caldwell International is known for its extravagance, its luxury, this...” He pushed the paperwork even further away from him. “Goes against everything we stand for.”
Baxter knew that his dad was a cold, hard son of a bitch, but he had never been so overt about it before. “But if you would just look at the plan.”
“Son.” Mr. Caldwell’s voice was stern. “I don’t need to look at your damn lefty leaning hippie commune plan.” He leaned forward on the table and gripped Baxter’s forearm. “The name on our office tower belongs to me until I’m dead.” He slammed his palm down on the table. “I made a mistake. You aren’t ready.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, you’re fired.”
Baxter stepped back, the words reaching out and slapping him in the face. “What do you mean ‘I’m fired’?”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” He shook his head. “You’re just fired from this project.” Baxter’s father stood up and straightened his tie. “Go back to the city. Your assistant has been briefed on your new posting. I’m stepping in to take the lead on this one.”
“Dad. Come on,” Baxter stepped in close to his father and stared him down. “I’ve been working on this for over a year.”
“And it looks like you’ve fucked it up completely.”
“No. I haven’t. This is what’s best for everyone involved.” He jabbed his index finger at the stack of papers on the desk.
“Except me,” his father growled. “And if you continue on with this plan, there won’t be a company left for you to inherit.” Baxter Caldwell, Senior picked up his briefcase and headed out of the room.
“Wait,” Baxter said. “What will it take for me to stay on this project?”
His father raised his eyebrows at him and stepped back to the table. He picked up the report and ripped it in half. “Present the original plan.”
Baxter sat down and ran both of his hands through his hair. “Can I have a minute to consider, and to consult with Barry and Thomas?”
“No. A strong executive has to make decisions under the gun. You either take my original plans to the council or don’t bother showing up at all.”
All the time and all the effort he had put into this. Changing the plan was wrong, he knew it. He also knew that the only thing he had in his life at the moment was his job. His relationship with Lauren had just blown up, and the idea of heading back to the corporate office a demoted man didn’t sit well with him. If he didn’t have his career, his namesake, he didn’t have anything at all.
He looked up at his father, who had been staring at him. “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll present your plan.”
“I thought so.” Baxter wanted to slap the smug look off the old man’s face. He hated himself. His father strode toward him and Baxter reached out his hand for the file folder. “You’re nothing like me,” he seethed. “You’re going to run Caldwell into the ground.”
“I already said I’d do it.” Baxter’s hands were shaking, and he clenched them into fists at his side.
“You’re weak. Just like your mother.” Baxter stepped back, aghast. “Of course, you will do it.” The old man’s eyes flashed. “You’re pathetic. You believed in your changes, but as soon as the pressure was on, you cracked. You have a lot of growing up to do before I put you in charge of anything anymore.”
Baxter’s mother had been the kindest, sweetest woman. She had died when he was ten years old, but he still remembers volunteering at the animal shelter with her, the two of them walking all of the senior dogs that no one wanted. She was always fighting for the underdog, in that case, literally. She would’ve been proud of the changes he had made to Caldwell Creek.
Baxter didn’t
know if it was from shock, but a sense of calmness washed over him. He handed the folder back to his father. “You don’t have to worry about me ruining your company because I quit.”
“You can’t quit. You’re a Caldwell.”
“Watch me.”
Baxter picked up his leather briefcase and strode out of the room, leaving his father behind.
He had spent the last ten years trying to prove to that bastard, and all of his cronies, that he belonged, that he was one of them. With the pressure of the position gone, he felt like he was floating as he walked out of the executive mansion. He wasn’t going to have to try for one more second. He wasn’t like them. Al, the driver was waiting in the black SUV and he hopped out when Baxter approached. “Where to, Baxter?”
“I don’t know,” Baxter said. “But do you mind if I drive?”
“Not at all, sir.” Al tossed the keys to Baxter and tipped his hat to him. Baxter slid into the driver’s seat, started up the car, and rolled down the window.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Caldwell?” Al asked.
“Yeah.” Baxter leaned out the window. “Call me Brock.”
He rolled up the window, stomped down on the gas and headed east, leaving Chance Rapids, Lauren, Caldwell Creek, and his legacy.
Chapter 27
THROATS CLEARED AND wooden chairs scraped on the hardwood floors in the council chambers. Lauren sat in the section reserved for consultants and waited while Mayor Smythe took her seat at the front of the room. The agenda for the meeting was projected on a screen behind the mayor. Up first, the Caldwell Creek project.
Lauren gulped. Even though she knew that the development was going to adhere to her recommendations, she wasn’t going to let herself relax until the ink was dry on the acceptance of the plan, complete with her conditions. Every time the old wooden door creaked open, Lauren glanced over, expecting to see Baxter. She glanced at her watch. It was 12:59 and he still hadn’t shown up.
She felt her phone buzz in her briefcase and pulled it out, her heart in her throat, knowing that it wouldn’t be Baxter, but a small part of her hoped that she would see his name on the screen.
“Good luck, sis!” The message from Charlotte read, followed by three heart emojis. Lauren looked to the spectator section of the crowded council chambers and saw her sister and Logan smiling and waving at her. She raised her hand in acknowledgment, then put her phone on silent and slid it back into her bag.
As the mayor started reading her opening remarks, the chamber doors slammed open and a man in a dark blue suit with a silk pocket square stepped into the room. He was flanked by Thomas and Barry, Baxter’s executives.
Lauren recognized the man from all of her background research, Baxter Caldwell, Senior had just stormed the chamber. The trio excused themselves as they shimmied into the consultant’s section. Barry and Thomas refused to make eye contact with Lauren as she stood from her seat to let them by.
“The first item on the agenda,” Mayor Smythe looked at her notes over her bifocal glasses, “the Caldwell Creek project.”
Lauren shifted in her seat, a sinking feeling growing in her gut. The mayor continued reading, “Caldwell International has applied for an exemption to the density limits set out in the Chance Rapids’ official plan.”
“No,” Lauren whispered under her breath.
The changes to the Caldwell plan should have been submitted prior to the afternoon meeting. The letter that Baxter had written to the council had revoked their application for the exemption. Her heart started to pound. Nothing had changed. Baxter had lied to her and now he wasn’t even here to face her. Her hands clenched into fists, crinkling her notes. She suddenly felt like she was naked in front of a stadium full of people. She had expected to stand up and congratulate Caldwell on their changes to the plan and to tell the mayor that the updated plan had her organization’s full support.
She was an experienced solicitor, one who had just made a rookie mistake. She was unprepared. She folded her useless notes and slipped them into her briefcase. She rubbed her hands together as she listened as the mayor presented the god-awful development plan to the town council.
Mayor Smythe looked to the section of consultants, her eyebrows raised over her glasses. “Is Mr. Caldwell present?” she asked.
“Mayor Smythe,” Baxter Caldwell, Senior stood up. “I am Baxter Caldwell, Senior.”
“Very well,” Shirley Smythe nodded. “Mr. Caldwell, these plans appear to be several years old.”
“That’s correct,” his voice boomed. “I have gone back to the original plans.”
“So, this isn’t an error?” The mayor flipped through the pages of architectural drawings.
“No, ma’am. We are sticking with our original request for exemption.”
Lauren stood up and smoothed her hands down her black shift dress, a hand me down from Charlotte. “Mayor Smythe, in light of the changes to the application, I would like to request an extension to the deadline in order to update my recommendations to the council.”
“That seems like a reasonable request,” Mayor Smythe nodded.
Baxter Caldwell, Sr. snickered lightly. “With all due respect, Mayor Smythe. Your consultants have had three years to prepare for this meeting. Every day that you postpone making the exemptions, costs Caldwell International thousands of dollars. If this isn’t addressed today, I’ll have no choice but to move forward with legal action of my own to address these costs.”
Mayor Smythe removed her glasses. “With all due respect Mr. Caldwell, these plans have been amended countless times in the last three years. The recommendations the council has received are based on the most current version.”
Baxter Caldwell, Senior stepped forward toward the mayor. “Well, then it looks like you’re going to have to go back to the original report. We can wait.”
Lauren couldn’t believe what was happening. The application she had been dealing with was terrible. The original was a monstrosity.
Councilman Larry Lawrence stood up. “Mr. Caldwell is right. We’ve been sitting on this for years. We have the original report and I for one would like to get this over with.” Larry shot his eyes at Baxter Caldwell, Sr. and Lauren caught the old man nod at him in approval. It looked like the serene small-town Lauren had grown to love had just stepped into the big leagues, the kind with corruption.
“Objection,” Lauren shouted, her courtroom instincts taking over.
“Miss Bunkman, this is a council meeting, not a courtroom.” Mayor Smythe said.
Lauren felt ridiculous but stepped forward to stand beside Caldwell Senior. “Mayor Smythe. This is completely unorthodox.”
“I agree with Larry.” Councilman Smit, a wiry old man stood up. “Let’s get on with it.”
“I have the old report here.” Barry handed out bound copies of the three-year-old report to the mayor and the council members. The bloodsucking executives were ready for this scumbag move.
The room started to go in and out of focus. This couldn’t be happening. “Mayor Smythe. You can’t permit this.”
The mayor nodded at Lauren. “Mr. Caldwell, If you’d like to return to your original application, you will need to go through the proper channels.”
“Actually,” Larry Lawrence pulled out a copy of the official plan. “If all of us are in agreement...” he gestured to his fellow councilmen. “We can vote on this today.”
Lauren stepped back. It was true, but she never expected it to happen. Everyone in town was against the proposal. She stared at the four men on council, they all looked nervous and sweaty, but there was something not quite right, something she couldn’t put her finger on, and then she noticed the glint of gold on each of their wrists. They were all wearing what looked like brand-new Rolex watches.
“All council members in favor of reviewing the original development plans today, say ‘aye’.” Larry glanced sideways at his cronies.
It didn’t surprise Lauren when all four of the men stood. Mayor
Smythe looked to her council, her eyes wide. She called her assistant over and covered up the microphone while the two of them flipped through the council procedural book.
She removed her hand from the microphone and her audible sigh escaped through the speakers. “Mr. Caldwell, with a 4-1 vote, we will accept the changes to your application.” The crowd gasped. Mayor Smythe was all business as she read through the specifics of the horrible development plan. She flipped through the old report that had been prepared years earlier, before Lauren was even hired to oppose the development, hoping to find some solid arguments to present to the council.
“Caldwell International is requesting an exemption to the official plan to build a mixed-use, commercial-residential tower and ski village adjacent to Sugar Peaks. The current regulations allow for three-story commercial hotels. The exemption to the plan would permit seven thousand units to be built with a maximum building height of forty stories...” Mayor Smythe shook her head but continued. “The report prepared by the consultants three years ago recommended that the request for exemption be denied based on population density, impacts on the local economy, and the encroachment of the village onto the conservation land.” She looked up. “Miss Bunkman, is there anything that you would like to add?”
Lauren took a deep breath. “Mayor Smythe, our recommendation to the council was to reject a plan that was half the size. The impacts of this development will be so much worse than anything we could have ever imagined. I implore members of the council to reject the application.” Lauren’s voice was stoic, but as she watched the council members subtly shaking their heads, she knew that even if she proved that Caldwell was going to club baby seals and fill the lake with radioactive sludge. He had given them enough money to look the other way.
“Thank you, Miss Bunkman.”
Lauren took her seat and felt like her soul had been ripped from her body. In the course of two days, she had lost the man she loved and lost the fight to save her town.
“I’m going to call a recess so that the councillors can review the reports relevant to this application,” the mayor stated.
