“Is that it, Mom? Is that what’s been bothering you?” I ask, a little relieved. My gut says it’s something else, especially when I notice her lips tighten.
“Gwen, today everyone else’s problems aren’t our concern. This day is about Chris. We’re celebrating the step he’s made to marry the woman he loves. Let’s not ruin this day for our son,” my dad says firmly. There’s something off about this.
“Mom, what is this really about?” I don’t believe Dexter’s visit is causing this type of tension. She looks from me to my Dad, then clears her throat.
“I heard through the grapevine that your grandfather is eying the property Kreuk Place is on,” she says with a sigh.
I immediately frown. Kreuk Place is the community center my mom and I have been working at for the past year. It not only helps people in our town but neighboring towns, too. It has a free clinic, gym, and daycare center. Only a monster would even think of displacing it. It’s a landmark. I want to say, “He can’t do that!” But the Crestfields can do almost anything.
“No. That’s bull!”
“It’s just a rumor, but we all know how those start,” my dad says, a frown on his face.
“I heard from Ms. Jaber’s daughter, that Dexter Jr.’s in town. She was just hired as one of the groundskeepers. He’s leaving this evening, supposedly,” she mumbles. The community center helped my mom and me through some of the toughest times in our lives. It’s a cornerstone of the community.
I look at my watch. I have a couple of hours before Jenna and her parents get here for dinner.
“I’m going to talk to him before he leaves,” I say, grabbing my keys off the counter. “I’ll be back in enough time to change before Jenna and her parents get here,” I say over my shoulder, and rush out of the front door. I climb into my truck and head towards the one person who can stop this before it gets going. Dexter Jr.
Crestfield. The name alone evokes envy, fear or anger depending on who you’re talking to in Madison. They own almost half the town, and have the biggest everything in the entire county. It wouldn’t be a problem if they were permanent residents, but they’re not. It’s mere extravagance—all for show, adding to their theatrics when they come in town to raise hell.
I’ve heard the phrase, “It’s nothing personal. Business is business.” But destroying families and ruining lives isn’t business as usual. Messing with people’s livelihoods makes it personal.
Once I arrive at the Crestfield estate, I have to wait at the gate to be cleared by security. When I’m in, I can’t help but feel repulsed by the decadence of it all. The house and grounds are huge. The house alone is four times bigger than the community center. I’ll never understand how people can be so selfish and greedy.
I get out of my car and head toward the house when my phone starts to ring. I smile, when I see it’s Jenna. I slide my finger across the faceplate to answer the call.
“Hey, future hubby,” she giggles.
“Future wife,” I chuckle, playing along.
“So ... how’d your parents take the news?” she asks, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
“Great. They’re really excited,” I say. It’s half true.
“Really? Even your dad?” she asks in disbelief.
“He took it even better than my mom did,” I tell her, making my way up to the large French doors. I roll my eyes at the discreet camera above the door before ringing the bell.
“Better
than your mom? What was wrong with your mom?” she asks, her pitch elevating slightly. I immediately regret my choice of words. Jenna picks up on almost everything. She’s like a bloodhound when someone’s hiding something. She’s good at reading people.
“My mom thinks it’s great,” I say, hoping to throw her off.
“You said better than your mom did. Meaning, your mom must have not taken it well,” she rattles off. “I thought your mom
loved
me? She’s against this?” she’s gone from five to ten on her panic scale.
“No, it wasn’t like that. She was just surprised, that’s all,” I sigh. I had to say “better.” That one little word triggered all this. The large doors have opened, and one of the Crestfields’ maid smiles warmly at me as she gestures for me to come in. I smile back to acknowledge her, and walk in.
“My parents and I are coming over for dinner tonight and your mom is totally against us getting married. This is terrible!” she says, her panic-o-meter rising with every syllable.
“Jenna. My mom loves you. She loves your parents. Dinner is going to be fantastic, I promise, but I’ve got to go. I’ll call you back in a few. Love you,” I say as I hang up the phone, despite her protests.
“Mr. Christopher Scott?” the maid asks, a little hesitant. I’ve known her for years, but she always asks as if she’s unsure of who I am.
“How are you, Ms. Alma?” I smile as she leads me up the large winding staircase.
“Wonderful. Would you like something to drink?” she asks right before we reach the door to Dex’s office.
“No, I’m fine,” I reply.
“Mr. Scott, Christopher,” she announces as we enter Dexter’s office, even though he can see me.
“I always feel like I should bow or something,” I say sardonically. I notice Ms. Alma cover her laugh by clearing her throat.
“A nod and a little courtesy would work just as well,” he responds dryly
,
barely glancing up from his computer screen.
“Will you be needing anything else, Mr. Crestfield?” she asks.
“That will be all. Thank you,” he says.
“Good to see you, Mr. Scott,” she says before leaving the room.
“You too,” I say, walking over to Dex’s desk.
“So what brings you here today, nephew? Long time, no hear from,” he says. I hear the amusement in his voice as he leans back in his large leather chair. I don’t understand why he always has to remind of me of our relationship, but I guess if it didn’t matter I wouldn’t be here.
“Kreuk Place. Just leave it alone. You guys own half the United States. Do you really need it?” I ask, exasperated.
He chuckles. “Why don’t you have a seat, Christopher,” he says, gesturing toward one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“I’m okay standing,” I tell him. I’m not going to sit and shoot the breeze with him. I just want him to leave Kreuk Place alone.
He frowns. “I’m sure Gwen has taught you better manners than that. When a host offers you a seat, you take it. Especially when you’re asking a favor of said host. You smile and grant the request,” he says smugly. I take a deep breath and sit down.
“So, how have you been?” he asks, as if we’re best friends. We’re cordial, distant relatives, at best. It didn’t always used to be this way. Ten years ago, after my grandmother died, Dex was sent to boarding school, and the traits that were reminiscent of the better half of his parents seemed to be left behind.
“Fantastic,” I say shortly.
“You haven’t been seeing Dr. Lyce,” he says with an accusatory tone. I fold my arms.
“My condition is neurological not psychological. I don’t understand the point of me going.”
“She’s a neuro-psychiatrist. It’s important that you see her in conjunction with—”
“Kreuk Place, Dex. That’s why I’m here,” I interrupt him. He’s getting off the subject, and I don’t plan on being here all day.
“We’ll talk about this first,” he says calmly, but there’s an edge in his voice that I’m sure causes his employees to cower. Good thing I don’t work for him.
“She’s one of the best in her field. You’re being remiss to disregard her expertise,” he says, a hint of anger in his voice. I take a deep breath and bury the urge to flip him off. I grit my teeth. This guy is capable of bringing out the absolute worst in people.
“Your dad is being
remiss
by destroying a historical landmark—a place that helps a lot people. What’s he going to do? Build a parking lot?” I shoot back. He leans back in his seat, amused.
“Look. It’s important to lots people here, our family included. Before he starts anything, can you get him to just leave it alone?” I ask, taking a deep breath.
“You know, once something’s underway with my father, it isn’t just started, it’s already done,” he says nonchalantly. I fold my hands in frustration.
“But...that’s not his interest at the moment,” he adds lightly.
Great then, I can leave. “Well, I guess that’s it then,” I say rising from my seat.
“Congratulations are in order aren’t they? I hope we’ll be getting an invitation to the big event,” he says before I’m even a step away from my seat.
“What?”
“You’re engaged to Jenna Mallory,” he says dryly.
I try to hide my surprise. I just proposed to her yesterday. I’d ask how he knows but there’s so many ways. He probably holds the lease on the jewelry store I bought the ring at.
“Are you ready for that step?” he asks. Lucky for me this is the one person whose thoughts I couldn’t care less about.
“Well, since you know everything, you tell me,” I say sarcastically. He smirks and stands from his seat.
“Marriage and family are the greatest gifts humanity was given,” he says, walking around his desk. I fold my arms across my chest, wondering where this is leading. Dexter has always irked me since he left. He’s only three years older than I am, but always feels the need to talk like some Ivy League college professor.
“Sometimes things happen, and they don’t always turn out how you hope or plan for.” There’s a lingering hint of regret in his voice. “Today, for instance, I’d give anything to attend my goddaughter’s first birthday party.” He picks up a picture frame off his desk and reflects on it. I wonder what kind of desperate person would choose him as a godparent. The money hungry kind, no doubt. He’s not even religious, and for teaching a kid values like honesty, integrity
, a
nd hard work, he’s not the ideal candidate.
He glances up at me from the picture. “She’s beautiful. Take a look.” He holds out the picture. I don’t care much for the guy, but refusing to look at a picture of his goddaughter would be a prickish move.
I take the picture and my eyes lock on it almost involuntarily. It’s a woman and a little girl. The woman in picture is beautiful with long dark hair and wide, almond-shaped eyes. The little girl in the picture doesn’t look much like her, she looks like—
The picture drops from my hand as a blinding pain shoots through my head. “Ahh!” I grasp my head and hold it.
No. Not now. Not in Dexter’s office.
“Christopher, are you okay?” Dex asks, walking towards me. I stumble backwards, finding the chair I was in earlier. I hear my heart beating in my ears. I haven’t had a headache like this since I can even remember, but it’s never hit so fast and hard.
I groan, gripping my head. I hear Dex’s voice, but it’s starting to sound far away as my vision starts to blur. “Call my parents!” I try to say, but I’m not sure if I’ve even said it at aloud as everything turns black.
I’
m cold but my face is warm, almost hot. My eyelids feel like bricks. I manage to open them and they adjust to the sunlight. My back hurts. I stretch my body. It’s stiff, and cramped up. I lift myself up and see that I’m laid out in the back seat of my truck.
How did I get here?
My eyes scan the truck for my cell phone and wallet. I have to have my keys, otherwise how would I have gotten in my truck? This is bad. Out of all of the times for this to happen! Why now?