“There has to be something we can do,” Peyton, Jim’s wife, said. “Speaking as someone who has experience on the other side of things, I can tell you that all wealthy people aren’t money hungry or controlling. Sure, some are, but there are some good ones too. They can be swayed, sometimes by personal appeals, sometimes by bad press. Maybe we can organize a committee to save the town and try to work with IG. If they turn us down, we can raise a stink in the media.”
“We’d have to be careful,” Elijah pointed out. “As Jim said, some folks want the payout. We could make some enemies if they know we’re actively fighting against it.”
Lilah was on Peyton’s side. “You’re all acting like it’s a foregone conclusion. I might not have been born in Whiskey River, but I’ve come to love it. And I think we should do whatever we can to save it.”
Her impassioned plea ended just as the sound of the door closing echoed down the hallway. Footsteps headed in the direction of the dining room, and suddenly Brenne appeared. “Guess who I ran into while I was in town?” she said, smiling. Then her eyes met Alex’s and the smile slipped a little.
Brenne moved aside to reveal Evan MacAllen, who bustled around the table to plant a kiss on his wife’s cheek. He wasn’t alone, however. A tall, slender man in a shirt with a loud print and jeans that looked like they’d never seen a day of dust in his life waved from the doorway. “Hello.”
All heads turned to look at the man whose dark curls made a messy halo around his head. “And who is this?” Mama May asked.
“This is G-Man. I met him at the bakery. He wasn’t sure what kind of cookie to buy. Rosalyn, of course, was flirting with him mercilessly, so I had to step in.”
“G-Man, is it?” Mama May said in a cordial but confused tone.
“It’s Gavin, actually,” he said, scanning the table and realizing they were one chair short. “Evan invited me back for dinner, and I realize now you’ve already got a full house.”
“Nonsense,” Brenne said, ducking back into the hallway to open the closet there and pull out a folding chair. “You can take my seat in between Mark and Jack. I’ll set up shop here next to my lovely father.” She stepped over to the antique cabinet that held the place settings and pulled out a plate and some utensils for their guest.
Alex watched as Gavin smiled at Brenne and she smiled back. The familiar green monster started clawing his way up into Alex’s guts, but he pushed him back down.
“Nice to meet you, Gavin,” Jameson said. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you visiting relatives?”
Before Gavin could answer, Evan spoke, half a biscuit rumbling around in his mouth, making the words come out as mush. “He’s here on business. I’ve been showing him around.”
“On business?” Lou said, her pitch high and her voice weak.
Johnnie put an arm around her and pulled her close. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m sure whatever business Gavin has is legitimate.”
“Very legitimate,” Gavin said with a warm grin. “My company is planning to build their green headquarters in Whiskey River.”
A cold fist gripped Alex’s heart as he started at the man in surprise. Gavin. That’s Gavin Jeffries, CEO of Instant Gratification.
Jameson seemed to come to the same conclusion. “You’re from IG.”
“That’s right,” Gavin said, then took a bite of chicken. “Say, this is delicious. Ever thought of opening a restaurant?”
His words were greeted with a deep silence, and Alex scanned the table, seeing faces full of the same shock he felt. Suddenly, pandemonium broke out around the table as everyone spoke at once.
Gavin Jeffries is here. The man who is about to destroy our town is eating Mama May’s fried chicken. How in the heck did we get here?
CHAPTER 14
BRENNE
Brenne was about to cover her ears because things had gotten so loud in the dining room, but a piercing cry stopped her. Lilah stood up, a baby monitor in her hand. “Luke’s awake,” she said, excusing herself from the table.
Luke was her son with Elijah, who asked if she wanted a hand. She told him no, to finish his supper, and disappeared. The interruption gave everyone a chance to take a deep breath. Oh man, Evan has stepped in it now, Brenne thought. He’s brought the enemy right into our midst.
It was evident that she wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines. Gavin continued to chew, seemingly oblivious to the stir he’d caused. Evan looked around the table, a glimmer of alarm in his eyes. He looked like he’d prefer to be anywhere but here. A guilty fox hunts his own hole, Brenne thought.
“Did you ever stop to think that the towns you take over might not want you there?” Jim held a water glass in his hand but didn’t drink. His eyes bored into Gavin, who was making quick work of a drumstick.
Gavin finished chewing, wiping his hands before blotting at his face. “They want IG. Everyone wants IG. My company brings jobs, helps local businesses, and raises property values.”
“And the downsides to all those benefits?” Jameson asked.
“Downsides? There are no downsides.” Gavin turned to Mama May. “This really is the best chicken I’ve ever tasted, Mrs. MacAllen.”
“Well, aren’t you sweeter than an old maid’s dream?” Mama May preened. “You can call me Mama May. Everyone does.”
“Mama, you’re aware that this is the man who plans to destroy our town?” Jim said, his tone slightly horrified.
“Not destroy it. Improve it.”
Gavin’s words set off another firestorm around the table. “Where do you get the nerve?” Elijah said, just as Jack started grumbling about the meaning of improvement.
“Where do you get off, strolling into town and thinking you know what is best for us?” This was from Jameson, who showed a rare burst of temper.
“All right, hush!” This came from her father, who was staring his sons down. “You’re hollering so much I can’t even enjoy a meal.”
Mama May put a hand on his arm, but her tone was as stern as his, if delivered more politely. “Mister Gavin is a guest in my house, and I will not have y’all treat him as anything but. We don’t have to agree on everything said, but we will say it with a civil tongue. I won’t have anyone saying the MacAllens are bad hosts.”
The table was quiet again after her words. Brenne stole a glance at their guest, figuring he’d have to feel uncomfortable after what had just taken place, but she was wrong. Gavin was helping himself to more chicken, an absent smile on his face.
He was attractive, if less brawny than she was used to. Probably comes from riding a desk indoors instead of horses out of doors like the good Lord intended. She liked the way he talked, in a clipped, articulate way that reminded her of a newscaster. Then it hit her. I’m staring at a billionaire.
Gavin Jeffries was one of the richest men in the world. He was at the top of the heap, a man with such reach that he could dream a thing in the morning and see it come to fruition by afternoon. Heck, some people thought he controlled the world. They might not have been the brightest bulbs, but some people said it nonetheless. And he’s sitting within spitting distance from me, at my mama’s own dining table.