"I was afraid to tell anyone because I thought I'd be judged for it. I thought people would look at me and see a liar."
The room stays quiet for a moment. Then Dot gets up from her chair, walks around the table, and puts her hand on my shoulder. "You're not a terrible mother," she says. "You're human, Emily… Any of us could have made the same choice, right, girls?" Her stern tone draws a few grumbles of acknowledgement, but I'm not feeling any better yet.
Gloria reaches across the table and takes my hand. "The Lord doesn't ask us to be perfect, Emily. He asks us to be honest. And you're being honest right now, which takes more courage than you think."
Linda Faye nods from her end of the table. "Can we pray for you, honey?"
I lift my eyes and nod slowly, not really feeling like it'll do much good. I'm not one for praying or believing in something I can't see, but I know it means something to my mom and these ladies. They feel like they're helping me, so all I can do is bow my head and let the tears fall more quietly.
Dot leads the prayer for God to grant me peace of mind and wisdom, and for Jaxon to have patience and understanding. Then Linda chimes in a prayer for Roger too, which wasn't requested but is sweet of her to think of him. And by the time they're done praying I do feel a little better. I wipe my eyes and we all get back to our crafting, but Connie brings up that awful real estate guy and I scowl.
"It just seems like he's being so pushy," she says, clicking her tongue.
"Emily has had her run-ins…" Mom says, nudging my arm. "Tell them, Em."
I sigh and pick up a new streamer to do it the right way this time while I vent about Victor Langford. "He's been pressuring me to sell for weeks now, and then suddenly, the inspections I was supposed to have until next year to prepare for are happening in June?" I huff and scowl, realizing these ladies feel my pain. "I'm so angry. Nan helped me buy that bakery and if I lose it…" My chest shudders. I don’t want to think about it. That bakery isn't just about Nan's money. It's more than that. To lose it will set me back financially, but that's not the part I'm worried about.
"Seems like he’s buying up all the waterfront property… Town just won't be the same," Dot complains. And she's right.
Tourists will flood in and crime will rise. But I’ll lose part of what made me me—and what helped me put my heartache in the past. I don't mind starting over. I just don't want to do it again so soon.
"Well, hopefully, the town council will see how wrong this is for everyone," Linda chimes in. "I heard there were a few outspoken voices at the last council meeting." She winks at Dot, but my heart twists.
If Jaxon and Roger can keep fighting, I'll fight alongside them. But if Langford is doing to them what he's doing to the Carolina Crumb, we're all in trouble.
There's so much happening, I'm not sure what problem to focus on. So I cut streamers and bite my tongue so I don't cry again. Ithas to work itself out because I don’t have emotional energy to spend on this forever.
19
JAXON
After days of showing up late, getting off early, and drinking myself to sleep every night just to shut up the anger in my brain, I decided to take a day off today. The guys have been complaining about my slowing them down, and I need to do something productive, something that makes me feel like I'm making a difference.
Langford has visited Dad at least three more times since I started working for him a month ago, pressuring him to sell when he damn well knows we aren't going to sell. And twice now, we've had to chase survey teams off the property. They expect to win the city council vote that would permit the township to move on eminent domain laws and force us to sell, and Mike is pissed off. Dad may be ignoring things, but I can't. Besides, as angry as I am with Emily, if it's us against the world, I don't want to see her lose her bakery, either.
So I've made the drive to Wilmington, more than ninety minutes—one hundred miles—from home, and I park in front of their big, shiny glass building. It's a different world up here in the city where things move much faster and high rises sprout on thehorizon. It's so far from the lazy, slow days of Beaufort that I feel out of place, but I climb out of the truck, determined to let Langford know he needs to back off or face a lawsuit, and stomp into the foyer.
The receptionist sits behind a tall counter with a wide, speckled, marble countertop typing at her computer. Her nails click away at the keys as she mumbles, "What can I do for you?" but she doesn't smile.
"Uh, my name's Jaxon Cole. I'm here to see Victor Langford, please…" I don't know how these things work. I'm assuming I should've made an appointment, but I didn't want the bastard to have a heads up that I was coming. It's better to catch him off guard the way he keeps doing to us. Besides, when he hears my name, he'll see me.
The receptionist pushes a button on her Bluetooth headset and scowls at me as she speaks.
"There's a gentleman here to see Mr. Langford, and he doesn't have an appointment." She listens for a moment before she hangs up. "He says he'll give you five minutes. Third floor, suite 310."
I take the elevator, which opens onto a hallway with framed renderings of waterfront developments lining both walls. I recognize one of them immediately because it's Beaufort. The rendering shows a row of sleek mixed-use buildings where the boardwalk currently sits, with outdoor dining and landscaped walkways and a rooftop pool on what looks like the exact footprint of Cole and Son's yard. They've already drawn up the plans for a place they don't own yet, and they've got them hanging on the wall in full color like it's a done deal.
Langford's office is at the end of the hall. The door is open and he sits behind a wide desk with his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up, talking on a Bluetooth earpiece. He holds up one finger when he sees me and finishes his call, then pulls the earpiece out and drops it on the desk.
Just seeing him in his natural habitat reminds me of sleazy salesmen or insurance agents. Nothing about this man seems right. I need to dig into him and find out what sort of schemes he's up to because he's not going to march into my home town and take over as easily as he thinks he is.
"I wasn't expecting you, Mr. Cole." Langford sits forward, not bothering to stand or shake my hand, just another testament to how rude he is. Doesn't have the decency to show hospitality.
"Yeah, well… here I am," I say, looking around his office. Two of the walls are nothing but windows from floor to ceiling, overlooking the Wilmington city center. It's a nice view, but I'm not impressed with the man who gets to see it every day.
"Come to change your mind and negotiate a settlement?" He sits back, tapping his finger on the mouse pad next to his mouse casually. The smirk on his face needs to be smacked right off it, but I control myself.
"No, sir, I came to find out what sort of messed up shit you're trying to pull." I think of those survey teams and how they're already measuring the land for development without so much as a verbal agreement to sell. Then I think of the conversations I overheard at the bakery, how that inspector is forcing the updates and repairs sooner than Emily thought. None of that stacks up right.
