Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“I don’t see the problem,” I said. “Change is a constant. Adapt or die.” I could throw out cliches, too.
Another gusty sigh, accompanied by a heavy shake of my father’s head. “The problem is that your friend Griffen doesn’t want to play ball.”
“Are you surprised?” I asked, trying not to laugh in my father’s face, if only for my mother’s sake.
“I’d hoped the boy would have matured in his time away, at least enough to see sense. But he’s as hard-headed as you are. Everything has to be above board. No backroom deals. No gentlemen’s agreements.” He changed his tone, losing his trace of a Southern accent, and said, “‘Just because it’s the way it’s always been done doesn’t mean it’s the way we’re going to do things from now on.’”
It was a poor imitation of Griffen, but I got the point. I wondered how many times Griffen had repeated those words since he took the reins of Sawyer Enterprises.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it, Dad. I’m the police chief,” I reminded him. “I’m the last person to convince anyone to bend the rules.”
“I’m not talking about anything illegal,” my father said. “I know better than that. It’s about doing things the way they’ve always been done. He doesn’t respect history, or precedents, or contracts that his father negotiated. Or the way we do things.”
“You mean he doesn’t want you and the rest of your buddies making backroom decisions that affect the entire region, but only benefit you?” I tried to keep the acid out of my voice, but caught my mother’s wince and knew I hadn’t been successful.
“It’s more than that.” My father waved his hand in a circle in the air. “It’s everything. The businesses he’s trying to attract, the salaries he’s paying. He’s making everything more complicated.”
“And you want me to do what about this?” I asked, trying to imagine a world in which I’d ever ask Griffen to stop bringing better jobs to our town. Just as hard to imagine was a world in which Griffen would listen.
“You two have been friends since you were children,” my father said in a coaxing tone. “I want you to talk to him. I want you to explain to him how important history is.”
“Sure, I’ll talk to him,” I said easily. I’d tell Griffen every detail of this conversation, not that it would help my father.
My father’s eyes narrowed. “Both of you were always ungrateful little shits.”
“Howard,” my mother cut in. “That’s uncalled for. West is his own man, and so is Griffen.” She shook her head at me and reached out a hand to cover mine, squeezing. “Your father always did hate change. He could use your understanding.”
I nodded, and she turned back to my father, who glared at her. “Bets, you just don’t understand how serious this is. You’ve never had a head for business and—”
“I don’t need a head for business to know that you’re a smart man, Howard,” she said, her voice sharp but her eyes warm as they met his. “You’ll figure out a way to work with Griffen because you have to. And it won’t be by trying to strong-arm the boy into seeing things your way. I’m ashamed of you trying to rope West into your shenanigans. You should know better.”
I tried not to grin. My father dropped his head like a recalcitrant school boy, muttering, “You don’t understand.”
“I understand enough,” she said, standing. “Dessert? I made coconut cake.”
I wasn’t going to turn down my mother’s homemade coconut cake, even if it meant more time with my father. “She’s right, you know,” I said. “Griffen isn’t unreasonable, just ethical. If you put more energy into working with him instead of trying to change him, you’d get a lot further. He’s not interested in joining your good ol’ boys’ gang. Edgar already tried that when Griffen married Hope.”
“Edgar still thinks the boy will come around,” my father said, lifting his chin. Edgar was Hope’s uncle and had been Prentice’s business partner. I didn’t trust him any more than I’d trusted Prentice.
I absorbed that, turning it over in my mind before shaking my head. “No, he doesn’t. He knows Hope is working side by side with Griffen, and she’s even more ethical than Griffen. Edgar knows they won’t blur any lines. If he’s telling you they will, he’s playing you.”
My father’s brows drew together in a scowl, but he didn’t argue my point. Instead, he admitted, “If I’d known Prentice was going to get himself shot, I would have done a few things differently.”
“You’re one of the few people truly mourning him,” I said.
“Prentice was a friend for most of my life,” my father admonished me, and I felt a twinge of real guilt. I had so many reasons to dislike Prentice Sawyer, sometimes I forgot there were a few people out there who’d liked him. My father’s next words wiped away my guilt.