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Desmond had set him up. The price for the center had not only been an unrealistic, extortionist amount, but also marriage to Jilly. Nick had considered refusing, but Henry’s heart attack and Bertha’s terror had caused Nick to grit his teeth and accept the terrible terms.
But once he’d signed the contract, and taken occupation of the garden center that had once belonged to his mentors, he’d given Bertha and Henry back their home. It hadn’t been the end of it.
His new father-in-law had sat back, expecting Nick to fail to meet the punishing payment schedule, which would’ve put the property back under his control—and allowed him to triumph over the son-in-law he detested.
But Nick had done it.
The final repayment had been made. And he’d done it without jeopardizing the financial well-being of his own company. Sure it had slowed his expansion plans down, tightened his finances, but he was still a wealthy man.
But now, as the first glimpse of freedom appeared like a fragment of sky between dark city high-rises, Desmond had dropped his next bombshell.
Nick wasn’t going to roll over. “The prenup stipulated that once the full amount of the sale price was repaid to you—” and Nick had worked himself almost to death to make sure of that “—then I would have right of first refusal on the shares if Jilly ever wanted to sell them.”
He’d paid dearly for Bertha and Henry’s retirement dream…
“My daughter is dead. You failed to pay the price before she died—the right of first refusal died with her. In terms of her will, the stock is now mine. And I have no intention of waiting until you can raise sufficient funds for the stock,” Desmond sneered. “The growth of Valentine’s garden centers has not been at all what I expected. I’m selling.”
Nick forced himself to keep still. Not to defend the performance of the stock. Not to reveal his shock at Desmond’s revelation. Instead, raising an eyebrow, he asked, “You already have a buyer for the stock?”
“Oh, yes.”
Nick allowed himself a slight, disbelieving smile at Desmond while his brain worked frantically. Alison had said she and Richard had had an offer for their shares, too. Was he sensing a conspiracy where none existed?
Nick shrugged. “Well, they’ll have to wait for Jilly’s estate to be finalized.”
“My buyer is not in a hurry.”
“Who is it? Another chain of garden centers?” Nick tried to think which of his competitors might have the liquidity in the present economic climate to force a takeover.
“Why must the buyer be a garden center? The land owned by the company is worth a fortune.”
That wiped the mocking smile clean off Nick’s face. “A developer?” he asked dangerously. “You’re planning to sell to someone who will hunt more stock until he has enough to close all the centers and develop the land?”
Triumph glittered in Desmond’s pale blue eyes. “The developer I have in mind is prepared to pay a premium rate for the stock.”
The Super Center, Valentine’s flagship store, was located close to Auckland city, not far from the waterfront on a sizable tract of prime real estate. It was worth a fortune, and other stores in other cities were equally well situated. A developer would love to get his hands on the company’s assets.
In the back of Nick’s mind, there had always been the knowledge that he could sell off some of the land to raise funds, but that would be a last resort. It was something he’d never seriously contemplated—no matter how hard Desmond rode him.
Because that would mean closing those centers. Not only would his staff lose jobs, the community where the center was located would lose, too. Each center had landscaped gardens, a café where customers could socialize, well-equipped playgrounds for children and bandstands offering musical events. A Valentine’s Garden Center brought pleasure to everyone who stopped by.
To hurt him, Desmond wanted to destroy the culture Nick had built.
Desmond knew him too well…
Narrowing his gaze on his adversary, Nick challenged, “You’d sell your stock, so your crony has a chance to make a fortune out of building high-density developments?”
Desmond placed his hands behind his head and smirked. “Sounds like a good plan.”
Nick rocked on his toes, tempted—not for the first time—to slam a fist in his father-in-law’s corpulent stomach.
The open green space with streams and lakes that Henry had painstakingly created and lost to Desmond seven years ago would be the first site to be bulldozed and developed—Nick had no doubt about that. With it would go the craftsmanship that Valentine’s stores had brought to the lifestyle market. The handmade pots. The carved garden statues. The water features that were so carefully created. The plants that were so lovingly tended.
