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One of his security guards pulled forward. He was short with arms the size of bulldozers. His shoulders barely fit into his fancy jacket clearly made for mafia flunkies such as himself. A sneer cracked the man’s hardened face. “You’re going to pay for that, Nash. Scrawny’s still pulling confetti out of his ears.”
Lacy glared over at him. “Don’t talk, Crawley.”
By the sounds of things, Nash had pulled one last trick on Lacy. Porter grinned, never feeling prouder.
Lacy took exception to that. “You won’t think this is funny for long. Even your own brother is sniffing out your blood.”
West and Nash’s sudden family feud was the story that they were going with. For a moment, Porter wondered if some of it could partly be true. If Nash truly blew a deal worth millions of dollars, West would’ve lost more.
He swallowed uncomfortably. Agreeing to work with West might’ve been real stupid.
Cadence was right in one way—even if West wasn’t planning on double-crossing him, his brother would own him when this was done. Ironic, since he’d fought with everything in him to keep Nash from this kind of life.
The twins weren’t so different after all.
Porter slammed the papers on the table in front of Funches’s friends. The tough lawyers watched on with wry amusement. The throwaway land that Porter was offering up had been bought up by West, and Porter was acting as agent. He glowered up at Lacy. “I guess now you know that I’m not some blundering fool you can order around.” He hoped he sounded convincing. “This time I’m looking for something more lucrative. Funches’s land has oil on it, and I want it.”
Lacy stilled, because, of course, he’d heard differently. He thought there was oil on Slade land. Who knew through what channels West had planted these little seeds of bad info, but he could see that it had done its job. Lacy moistened his lips, every move obviously calculated not to give away that he was getting ready to avenge himself against Nash for everything that he’d ever done. “Where’d you hear that?” Lacy asked.
“I heard my brother talking about oil at Harvest Ranch. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that you’d already acquired that land for yourself.”
Lacy’s eyes glittered in silent mirth. “And why should I give it to you? You haven’t exactly been agoodboy.”
“I’ll give you my family’s land in exchange for it.”
Lacy glanced briefly over at his lawyer, likely to make sure that the guy could make this unfair exchange legal and binding, while still trying to play it cool.
Porter understood that.
“Why would I do that?” Lacy asked, in his attempt to bluff him.
Porter shrugged. “We’re men of the world, you and I, and I happen to know that your womanizing has got you into trouble.” He hated bringing Cadence into this, but revenge over profit was the most likely reason that Lacy might choose to work with “Nash” on this deal. Feeding Lacy excuses saved the predator from having to come up with any unconvincing ones on his own. “You have a little problem that you’d liked fixed.”
Lacy blanched. “That won’t be a problem soon enough.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Porter lifted a brow, pretending that he wasn’t disturbed by Lacy’s casual dismissal of Cadence’s pregnancy. This was a villain, and it was easy to know what fueled him. “This is the perfect revenge,” he said. “You can even get your girl back, if you play your cards right.”
Lacy let out a disdainful chortle. “You really don’t care about anyone, do you, Nash?”
Porter threw his hands up. “Let’s work out a deal. We sign this contract of exchange. I sign my deed over to you, and you sign your deed over to me.”
“Great way to avoid all those taxes…” Lacy was already getting into this. No investor worth his salt would go for this kind of deal—to give up land rich in oil just for a little revenge? But Lacy thought that he had Nash fooled.
“You’re power of attorney for this land?” Lacy asked. “You can act in behalf of the principal?”
“Yes, I can facilitate the deal.” As West explained it, Nash was already in this position because that was his job in Nashville—to represent the interests of “the company.” After signing a few papers, Porter was authorized to do it, too, just to lend further credence to this deal, but it wasn’t necessary. As Nash, Porter was planning on using his twin’s signature. Nash would never even know that he’d “facilitated a deal” in Harvest Ranch, and if he started asking questions, his brothers could easily explain why they’d pretended to be him. Nash had nothing to gain or lose by turning on them.
Lacy straightened as if just getting a thought. “Who do you represent? Does West own your family’s land? Did he buy it off the bank?”
Porter scoffed… though West owned this land that he was putting up for exchange, it certainly wasn’t the exact land that Lacy was thinking. “Not even West would put our family home up for sale,” he said, “but there’s someone close to me that thought it would be a good idea.”
“I see.” Lacy nodded, looking arrogant again. “Your father. We’d been working out a negotiation. He started to drag his heels in the end, but…” Lacy gave a slow smile, since he thought he was now working with amateurs. “Yes, yes, an exchange for Funches’s land feels like the perfect solution.”
“I should make some calls,” his lawyer said. He picked up the contracts, fastening on his glasses like scopes on a gun. He studied the wording.
Porter didn’t want to give him any time to figure out how bad of a deal that they were getting. There was a reason he’d chosen a place to meet with no cell phone or internet connection. He pretended to consult his watch. “We have exactly twenty minutes to close. My seller is getting touchy. I can only hold him off for so long.”
