Page 69 of Make it a Double

- Seek bill of sale for land. Legal purchase? Belonged to Frank Davenport til death. Passed to former employee, then sold.

- Liquor license expiring in 3 months. Will need to reapply. Talk with TABC to block renewal. Premises change submitted?

- Construction halt: Check the area for protected species to prevent building. Environmental hazard?

Richard’s gaze was nothing short of intense as he watched me carefully read through each paper. His choppy scrawl was damn near incoherent. The scribblings of a desperate man in an unsavory position. For as much as my father liked to keep his heel on my neck, I couldn’t imagine what it felt like to be in Richard’s position. I almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

“Their first proposal will be denied this afternoon,” Richard said smugly. “They’ll receive the notification shortly after that, which should land them in my office by the end of the week.” He leaned back in his chair, clearly feeling proud of slapping a red X across their application and handing it back.

I set the folder back on the desk, crossing my ankle over my knee. “On what basis did you deny them?”

“We’re leaning into the environmental aspect at the moment. Because the bar currently sits on a three-acre plot of land surrounded by dense forestation, we require a full environmental survey before we will consider a review. Of course, we already know the site will pass inspection, but this will push back a second look by at least three weeks. Maybe more if we are lucky.” The man was pleased with himself—sitting back in his chair, looking like the cat who got the cream. “I’ve spread the word to a few surveyors in the county. They’ll pad their books to appear busier, but that isn’t to say there aren’t others who don’t operate by our standards, if you know what I mean.”

His use of the word our was noted and hated, but for this to work, it was essential that he believed we were on the same team. The only comfort I took was knowing I was nothing like the man before me.

“Of course,” I agreed. “That’s a good angle. And what about the liquor license?” Richard’s brows furrowed, his smile slipping ever so slightly. “I saw your note regarding the expiration on the first page.”

“Ah, yes. Well, that angle is a bit tricky,” he said, nodding. “Their original license dates back to the early seventies. It’s on a five-year rotation as it is. Because they have such a longstanding history with the alcohol board, proving their negligence would be difficult, but not impossible. I just have to find the right people who are willing to look the other way.”

People like him was what I wanted to say. People who found themselves in less than ideal situations, whether by their own hand or someone else’s, who would do just about anything to get out. My father seemed better than most at seeking out those who bordered on the edge of desperation.

“Is there something in particular your father is looking for?” Richard asked, pulling me from my thoughts. “An angle he’d like me to explore, perhaps?”

“Not yet. This meeting was more of a formality than anything else. A way for us to get acquainted with one another, so to speak,” I said, resting my hand over my knee. Richard watched me closely, the hint of envy evident each time his gaze lingered on the Patek Phillipe on my wrist. “My father has asked me to take the lead on this project, which he expects to wrap up as soon as possible. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that he is not a man familiar with failure.”

A single drop of sweat trailed down Richard’s temple as he shifted in his seat. His eyes scanned the room, taking note of his newfound luxuries broadcasted in nearly every framed photo. “As I’ve told Mr. Montgomery before, I am the man for the job. I won’t let either of you down.”

I held his gaze for a beat, never letting my hardened expression slip. Not even as Richard’s throat bobbed and he glanced away, unable to bear the weight of my attention. “Fantastic,” I said, brandishing a lethal smile. “That’s what I like to hear.”

My gaze traveled over the cabinet, when one of his pictures caught my eye. A younger-looking Richard and his wife were splayed out on a picnic blanket beneath the shade of a large oak tree. I’d guess it was at least ten years old, if not more. They wore large smiles as their young daughter sat next to a picnic basket, holding a stuffed bunny up above her head.

I didn’t recognize the image from his social media profile. Most of the ones I saw were clearly posed like the rest of the pictures in his office, so why was this one different?

Standing up, I brought the wooden frame closer. Everyone’s perfect day looked different depending on who was asked, but something told me this was Richard’s. His family looked so happy. Completely free from whatever troubles awaited them in their day-to-day lives.

“What a beautiful family,” I said, gesturing toward the image.

Richard stepped up beside me, his eyes slightly unfocused. “Thank you. It’s one of my favorite memories. My wife thought it would be a good idea to take our three-year-old to an apple orchard that’d just opened on the edge of town, but Hannah hated apples. She hated most fruits, actually.” He shook his head, smile faltering. “You know, I used to pray for the days when the tantrums would lessen, and she’d get a bit older. At least back then, she still needed me. Now, she’s off in college and barely visits. Makes you kind of miss the tears.”

For the first time today, I had a moment of sympathy for the man beside me. He’d clearly made mistakes in his life trying to climb a ladder that wasn’t meant for him, but maybe there was something good still inside of him. Maybe that scrap of humanity was what I needed to tap into.

“Do you have kids?” he asked.

I placed the frame back in its spot, buying time to figure out how to answer. Something told me I would need to give him a scrap of honesty in order to turn this situation around, but what if it got back to my father? His frequent calls might have slightly lessened as we awaited a status update, but he was no less demanding. Each text message or email ended in a reminder of why I was in Pinecrest and that my time here was contingent on my ability to get him what he wanted.

If he found out I was dragging my heels because of Sawyer’s pregnancy, he would descend on this town like a plague, stealing everything I held dear. But in order to find a thread of common ground with the man in front of me, I would have to take a risk.

“One on the way.” My smile was genuine for the first time since I’d set foot in this office. “It’s intimidating. There’s a lot of pressure to raise a good human.”

“Parenthood isn’t for the weak. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but it’s also the most rewarding,” Richard said, pulling himself away from the image on his desk. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it before long.”

For the first time today I truly looked at the man. Despite his many faults, he clearly loved his daughter. I could see it written plain as day on his expression. “Here’s to hoping we can shape a better world for them,” I said slowly. “That’s what I want, anyway.”

The rest of my meeting with Richard was by the book, but he was noticeably more subdued than he was when I first set foot into his office. We went over some of the plans my father sent over for business propositions he’d had in the works for months. As I left, I gave him my phone number and told him to call if he needed anything. My hope was that he would use it when he came to his senses, but I wasn’t sure if our chat about parenthood would be enough.

The chill air bit at my nose as I exited the building and jogged to my car. I’d never been so grateful for remote start before. A burst of warmth greeted me as I slid into my seat and set the GPS for Pinecrest.