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As soon as she opened the door, she nodded and turned away. I remained where I was, glancing from one man to the other. All three appeared cozy and unprofessional in jeans and button-down shirts. I also noticed at least one of the men was wearing cowboy boots. In addition, the two visitors had removed their traditional cowboy hats, placing them directly on the small conference room table located inside a massive corner office.
Business was certainly handled differently in this part of Colorado. Or maybe my jaded side was showing all over again. I glanced around the room at the lavish surroundings. If this man was a friend of my grandfather’s I’d be surprised. It was exactly the kind of office the man would have made fun of and had many a time. I couldn’t imagine he’d changed that much in twenty years.
“Why, Mr. Cawthorne. I must say you’re the spittin’ image of your grandfather.”
While I guessed the man addressing me was Hank given he was sitting at the head of the table, he failed to impress in the least.
I remained quiet, closing the door after me. Then I took a few minutes to glance from one to the other of the visitors, finally back to Hank. “I take it you’re my grandfather’s attorney.”
Finally, the three men stood, Hank extending his hand. I noticed the others didn’t, both eyeing me as warily as I was doing to them. The obvious tension in the room reminded me of a battle of testosterone cowboy style.
Only I hadn’t gotten the memo regarding the required attire.
I shook the man’s hand, then hesitated when he offered me a seat across from the other two.
“Please, make yourself at home. Would you like Milly to get you some coffee?” Hank asked.
“No, that won’t be necessary.” I finally pulled out a chair by a few feet, sitting then immediately easing against the back, crossing my legs at the ankles and steepling my fingers together. I’d made millions by my method of putting the fear of God into those opposing me without issuing a word.
“Oh, allow me to introduce Ben Anderson and Michael Sandston who are prepared to sign the contract for the ranch in its entirety. They are with Canyon Industries. Maybe you’ve run in the same circle during the past few years.”
That immediately told me they were real estate developers. That made sense given the size of my grandfather’s property and the location. While it might seem off the beaten path, the location was pristine for all the outdoor recreational activities that so many city dwellers had flocked to over the past few years. With the churn and burn developers coming into the picture in get rich quick schemes offering high dollar to residential owners, they gobbled up properties quickly. Sometimes with promises of protecting the environment, sometimes without giving a shit.
I’d heard of their organization before. Even my father had called them unscrupulous, which I’d found funny at the time. “Aren’t you out of Texas?” I asked, as if I cared.
Ben glanced at his good buddy and grinned. “Why, yes, we are. We’ve been looking for an excuse to ride on into Colorado. This is the perfect opportunity.”
While it was entirely possible my grandfather had changed in twenty years, I found it difficult to believe he’d consider selling it to a company who had close ties to a crime syndicate.
Or so I’d heard.
“Fascinating.” My single word was met with another hard look between the three of them.
If there was one thing to be said in a positive light about the company my father had built and I’d catapulted into, one of the most powerful land developers on the East Coast, was that we did follow state requirements, going out of our way to protect the environment. We’d even strong-arm purchased a company who’d been regularly dumping massive amounts of used crude oil into the ocean, effectively shutting them down. Then we’d spent millions on cleanup.
That didn’t make us virtuous given the unscrupulous tactics we used, but I would hold tight to the fact we weren’t destroying family properties for the sake of greed.
I was damn good at sizing up people and I could say without a doubt they’d used my grandfather, or at least Hank had. When I found out the depths of what he’d done, I would crush him like a bug without looking back.
For now, I needed to hold the reins tightly until I determined what the fuck they were doing.
“I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.” I wasn’t certain why I was holding my tongue other than something I’d remembered my mother saying years before. It was better to collect flies with honey than with vinegar. Maybe the term was appropriate in a den of snakes, and that’s exactly what the three men sitting in front of me were.
“Well, allow me to offer a warm Colorado welcome,” Michael, the older of the two men said. The three of them constantly glanced at one another for affirmation. Did they think I was fucking stupid?
I took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before addressing any of them. “So you’re interested in purchasing the ranch.” I restated the obvious, curious how far they’d go to hang themselves.
“Absolutely.” Ben appeared confident as well as bored, drumming his fingers on the table. They either hadn’t done their research, learning my reputation was as ruthless as theirs, or they didn’t give a shit. Either way, I couldn’t care less. They weren’t going to purchase my father’s land for any price.
“I’m curious. What plans do you have for the land?” My question seemed to catch them off guard. They glanced at Hank, as if answering me was in question. “Don’t look at Mr. Barclay, gentlemen. I’m the one who owns the ranch.”
There was more than a hint of confusion on their faces.
“We plan on turning it into a mixed-use community, the first phase including two hundred upscale condominiums and a few businesses. Eventually, there will be single family homes, apartments, and a full business center including several restaurants, a library, and an elementary school.”
As I’d suspected, Hank had gone ahead and acted on his own. I couldn’t help but wonder what level of kickback he would get for his work on selling the place out from under me.
“It would seem there’s been some discourse and miscommunication.” To my credit, I managed to keep my voice even, although I was livid, so much so I had an itching for violence.
