The second I pull up to the parcel of land, I already know someone’s been here. There are trail marks across the grass and dirt. I step out of the truck and Noah joins me.
“Flags and stakes,” he points out, grabbing one out of the ground and throwing it to the side.
“Somebody called the county.” I pull a stake and throw it.
We walk over to the post holding the permit board and it’s been red tagged.
“Who do you think reported you to the ERM if not the mayor?”
I don’t even have to think about it. “Pruitt. He’s been gunning for the property, trying to push me to sell it. He wants to build a golf course on it and is pissed I’m going to stick an industrial park in his back yard.” I grin, loving how pissed I make him. Even if it means he’s making shit more difficult for me.
Noah laughs. “You’re a dick.”
I shrug, owning it.
“Let’s go. I need to find Mr. Mayor and have a talk with him.”
We’re on our way back to the office when Noah points to the country club. “Isn’t that Daddy Pruitt?”
I glance over and sure enough, Clint Pruitt is getting out of his cherry red Corvette and handing the keys to the valet. Crystal Harbor Country Club is the go-to place to dine and mingle for all the wealthy, pretentious assholes who live here, so of course he’s here. I have a membership, but only for times like this.
After the valet grabs my keys, we head inside and are quickly seated. I glance around, looking for the dickhead, but I don’t see him anywhere. While Noah and I eat lunch, a few people stop at our table to talk to me. I might not live in this town, but I damn near own most of it.
Just as we’re finishing up our lunch, I see Clint walking over to the table next to me to speak to someone. Before he can make it there, I step into his line of vision, causing him to scowl.
“Clint, it’s been a while.”
“Not long enough,” he mutters. “What the hell do you want?”
“I thought maybe we could have a chat about my property over on Sycamore. Someone called it into the county.”
I study his features closely to see if they reveal it was him, but he remains impassive. He’s either not responsible, or he’s doing a good job at hiding that he is. My guess is the latter. It wasn’t too long ago he threw his own business partner to the wolves, sending him to jail for fifteen years for tax evasion and money laundering while he walked away scot-free. You can’t do that without being a damn good liar.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, attempting to walk around me.
I step to the side as well, blocking him. “You better hope not,” I warn, plastering a fake smile on my face. “Because if it is you who’s fucking with me, you’re going to regret it.”
He blanches, but quickly schools his features. “Are you threatening me?”
I move closer to him, invading his personal space. “You know me better than that, old man. I don’t threaten; I take action.”
Without waiting for him to respond, I walk past him and out the door, finding Noah already standing next to my vehicle, waiting for me. When we arrive back at the marina, I call my secretary to join us as I stalk straight to my office.
“Mr. Petrosian,” she says when she enters. Every time she calls me that, my heart sinks slightly in my chest. Now in her late sixties, Elouise Garner was my father’s secretary for over twenty years and agreed to stay on as mine when I took over twelve years ago. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to hearing her call me Mr. Petrosian. It should be him who’s here, not me…
“Find out where the mayor is so I can pay him a surprise visit.”
“Yes, sir.” She nods and then disappears.
“On a positive note, I just got word the shipment that came in went smoothly,” Noah remarks once she’s gone. “The merchandise is being delivered to the buyers as we speak.”
“Good. At least one thing is going right.”
My phone dings with an incoming text and when I see who it is, I groan.
“Rea?” Noah guesses.
“Yeah, she isn’t getting the hint that it’s over.”
“Well, you were together for a while.” He shrugs.
“A few months, and it’s been over for just as long.” I click on her name and block her. Maybe now she’ll get the hint. At the very least, I won’t have to read any more of her bullshit texts begging me to give her another chance. If she loved me like she claimed, she wouldn’t have been texting another man behind my back.
“When are you going to finally realize that most women are conniving manipulators?”