18. Hux
18
HUX
I throw myself back in my desk chair, running my hands down my face, feeling as if this day couldn’t drain the life from me any more if it tried. And it’s really trying.
The large, well-decorated space at Hayes headquarters is at least comfortable, adding one small consolation to the day. No, two—it’s also quiet. Much quieter than my office at the lumber and paper mill, that I don’t think could be soundproofed to save my soul. No matter what we’ve tried, you can still hear the sounds of the saws and machines running. Some days the hum of it all is the perfect background noise. A white noise that I can get lost in as I work. Other days, like today, I’m thankful Auggie insists that we all maintain a space at headquarters.
Even if I do share the space with Anton, our desks catty-corner to each other, with a set of four guest chairs in the middle forming a circle. Although he’s here even less than I am, spending most of his time either in the fields, the greenhouses, or the agriculture lab playing around with crossbreeding fruits.
I inhale slowly, letting my lungs expand, trying to remember the breathing techniques that Dolly taught me. The ones I was only half paying attention to because they were making her chest push forward, jiggling her boobs, and that was stealing all my attention. Much like I would really like them to steal my attention now.
Wonder what it would take to get her to send me a picture…
I chuckle to myself, already able to see the sassy, you have to be fucking kidding me look she’d give me if I asked. Then again, if I dared her, I’d still get that look, but I’d also get the picture. She’s never been one to walk away from a dare.
My computer dings, and I groan, sitting back up to see who it could be now. Because if it’s payroll again about time sheets, I will actually scream. No one should have to answer that many questions to get their employees paid. No one .
Especially not a man who is trying to build a playground.
To my surprise, it’s James Brennan from the Department of Natural Resources. My pulse stutters, trying to find its balance again from seeing his name, not sure if I should be worried or not. James is a good guy, but not someone I communicate with regularly, so him popping up in my inbox could go a lot of ways.
Here goes nothing…
Hux,
Thanks for sending over Hayes’s sustainability plan. It’s nice to see y’all so committed. That said, think you could up some of your replant commitments? We’re trying to increase our percentage as a whole across the state, and a larger commitment from a company like Hayes would go a long way. Think about it!
Best,
James
Up my replant commitments? For fuck’s sake.
Just one more way I’m not good enough…
Could I? Yeah, I probably could , but that would cut into my profit. And as much as I love and care about the environment, at the end of the day I do have to turn one of those. Something I’ve always been damn good at. Hayes Industries is a business after all.
Not to mention, my forest replant plan is already pretty aggressive. I’m willing to gamble much more so than some of the other big names in the game. Likely why he’s asking me, because he knows that others will not only balk, but push back. Because they are only putting together a sustainability plan because they have to. Caving under the pressure from the protests, trying not to be the next one boycotted over their business practices. Or well, lack thereof.
I close out of the email, pretending that I didn’t see it. I’ll reply once I figure out a nice way to tell James that he can ask the others to up their commitments. That might be something that requires Willa’s help actually. She can wordsmith something for me.
Besides, right now, I need to focus. This playground isn’t going to relocate itself.
Bzzzzzzz…
My phone vibrates against the desk, the sound just annoying enough that it’s impossible to ignore. Reaching over, I go to silence it. At least until I see the name. Landon Noble.
“Landon,” I answer, trying to tamp down the worry that is climbing up my chest.
Outside of my brothers and Dolly, Landon is probably the person on this earth I’m closest to. The third of four boys—who are affectionately referred to around town as “the boy cousins,” since they are the sons of Rod Noble, whose brother, Ken, the town mechanic only has two daughters, Kenzie and Moira—we share an understanding of being the middle child, although Landon’s quiet and reserved personality is the opposite of my rough around the edges one.
More importantly at this moment, Landon is Hickory Hills’s assistant fire chief and EMT. And I’m pretty sure he’s on shift right now. So if he’s calling me in the middle of shift, something could be really wrong. Really, really fucking wrong.
Dolly…Miss Belle…shit…
“Hey,” he greets, sounding relaxed. Not that it’s doing much to help me right now. “First off, breathe, not why I’m calling.”
Oh, thank heavens…
“Fuck. Thank you.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I heard you stop breathing there. Anyway, you alone?”
Errr…what?
I look around, more out of curiosity than anything else. Because I’m not really sure how to answer that. Should I be worried about what comes next? Am I being Punk’d?
“I am. But…you’re not going to ask me to get naked and do dirty, dirty things for you, are you, Landon?”
“Wasn’t my plan,” he retorts. “You’re not really my type.”
“You’re not mine either.”
I prefer mine blonder, sweeter, and with something to hold on to…
“Well, now that we have that settled, you didn’t hear this from me.” He lowers his voice, as if he were about to share state secrets. Or worse, he was about to share his mama’s secret recipe and she was in earshot. “But I just came from the butcher shop, and Z told me that Dad let it slip who the holdout on your vote was.”
My heart stops.
Hickory Hills’s nine-person town council has six full-time members—the mayor, the town clerk, town treasurer, police chief, fire chief, and the school superintendent. Plus three members at-large from the community. One of whom is Rod Noble, local cattle rancher. Right along with Jack Keller and Ellen Potter, the retired French teacher from the high school.
Rod’s son Zachary, Z for short, runs the family’s butcher shop that is next to Oh, My Lard! The butcher shop solidly ranks in the top five for gossip hot spots. Although to hear that Rod is the one doing the gossiping is a little surprising.
Still, I’ll take it.
“Seriously?”
“I don’t know the details of the conversation, just that there was only the one holdout.”
I nod, not that Landon can see me. That part I knew. Auggie had shared that much with us. Long-standing town laws state that the ruling of the vote along with the vote count is public information, but that what was discussed and which council members voted in favor or against is considered confidential. Meaning I’m allowed to know that I lost eight to one, and that it’s because the one thought it wasn’t a good use of town funds, but I’m not allowed to know who that one is.
But this is a small town. And nothing stays secret for long.
“Who?” I ask, my heart jackhammering against my ribs, threatening to break them into a million pieces.
Part of me is afraid to know. I’ve known each one of these council members my whole life and can’t imagine who would vote against this. At the same time, I’m dying to know who I need to hunt down.
I mean, convince to rethink their position.
“Seth Jennings,” Landon says. Plain and simple.
Seth Jennings? The town plumber? That doesn’t track; he’s not one of the nine. Unless someone was ousted and I didn’t realize it.
“When was he elected?”
“Last spring. Special election after Ellen Potter died.”
“Ellen Potter died?” I exclaim.
“Found dead in her living room—heart gave out.”
Huh, missed that.
Anton and Jace walk into the office, giving me a confused look. I barely hear one of them mutter something about “didn’t we attend her funeral,” but I can’t tell which one it is, so I snap my fingers at them, signaling for them to be quiet. Giving me another weird look, they park themselves in the guest chairs facing my desk, leaning in to listen to the rest of my conversation.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” I say. “Like, less than zero.”
“I’m just telling you what Z told me. Which is apparently what Dad told him. Your guess is as good as mine.”
I shake my head, trying to make it compute. As if somehow the movement will shake the pieces into place.
“Hux, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a Hayes. Can’t you just pay for whatever this is yourself?”
I scoff. If only it were that easy.
“It’s not about the money. If that’s all this were about, I wouldn’t have involved the town at all. I can cover it no problem.”
I can. Not trying to brag, which I know Landon understands. At the end of the day, it’s a simple matter of fact—my family has money. Lots of it. And has for generations. On top of that, I hold an executive position in the still privately held company said family owns and am compensated more than fairly for that profit I’m damn good at turning. Being a Hayes has its perks.
So no, money is not the issue here.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean forward, resting my elbows on the desk. “What I don’t have is a place to put it.”
Landon is silent for a moment, and I know I stumped him. I also know that he’ll never ask what it is I’m trying to build. That’s not who he is.
“All that Hayes land and you got nothing?”
“Hayes land won’t work for this. I don’t think. It’s not as simple as clear-cutting a bunch of yellow pine. You really think I didn’t think of that?”
He chuckles. “Touché. Alright, well, that’s all I called to tell you. I’m gonna go now because all this talk has me feeling like Mrs. Chamberlain, leaving me with the deep urge to shower.”
I shake my head, silently joining in his laughter. “Does that make me Mrs. Burch?”
I can see Dolly’s great-aunt now, huddled up with our former math teacher, the two of them intent on knowing everything about everyone in this town, and ready to use it against us. A shiver rips down my spine at the thought, and I can’t disagree that a shower sounds pretty good actually.
“If the shoe fits, man.”
We hang up, and I toss my phone on the desk. What the actual fuck. Seth Jennings. The town plumber. It’s hard enough to wrap my head around the fact that he’s on the town council, much less that he voted against my project. As the lone vote.
“Who was that?” Jace asks, cutting into my thoughts.
“Landon, doing his best Mrs. Chamberlain impression.”
“What?”
I shake my head, waving off my own bad reference. No need to drag the rumor mavens into this more than needed. In fact, keeping them out of it altogether is greatly preferred.
“D’ya know that Seth Jennings is on the town council?” I ask them, still trying to sort it all out.
“Who?” Anton asks.
“Jennings Plumbing,” Jace answers.
“I thought his name was Steve.”
Jace shakes his head. “Seth.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Naw, the guy who came and did the sprinklers for the greenhouse was definitely Steve. I remember his shirt.”
“Then you can’t read. We went to school with Seth ,” Jace tells him. “You’re making up Steve.”
“It’s definitely Seth,” I chime in. I might not be able to remember the last time I saw him, but I remember the guy’s name.
“What’s definitely Seth?” Gus asks, walking into the office. He leans against Anton’s desk, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“The plumber. Who is apparently on the town council? Did you know this?” Sending a pleading look his way, I also toss up a silent prayer that our uptight, know-it-all oldest brother is going to put all that to good use and have some information here.
“Steve owns Jennings Plumbing. He’s Auggie’s age. Seth—who yes, is on the council, replaced Ellen Potter after she passed last year—is his son. Where have you been?”
Of course he knows. Normally, I’d flip him off for his sarcastic question there at the end, but am so thankful for making the bickering between the other two end, I hold back. Sometimes Grumpy Gus has his uses.
“He’s the holdout.”
A mix of a “what?” and “huh?” jumbles together as all three of them respond simultaneously. I nod, not sure what else to say. Mostly because I can’t work it out. None of this tracks. None of it.
“Holdout for what?”
“He’s the one that voted against Project: Second Star. The one who said it wasn’t a good use of town funds.”
“How do you know?” Gus asks.
I shoot him a look. One that says he doesn’t want to know. But he pushes anyway.
“Those votes are confidential.”
“I am aware.”
I am also aware that this is a small town. And like I said, nothing stays secret for long. Gus should know that better than anyone right about now. Just look at how his “secret” relationship with Margeaux went.
Then again, maybe I shouldn’t talk. Dolly and I are keeping a pretty big secret ourselves.
“But I know now,” I continue. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do about it.”
“Nothing. You can’t. Because you can’t know,” Gus chides.
Fucking rule-following big brothers…
“What’d you do to him?” Anton asks.
“No idea. I honestly don’t even know the last time we crossed paths. I haven’t talked to him in…” I think about it again, racking my brain. I can’t even come up with a town event where I saw him from afar. “I don’t fucking know.”
“Did you kick his ass in high school or something?” Gus questions.
“He wasn’t even in my class. He was in Jace’s.” I gesture toward brother number five, who’s sitting back in the chair like nothing is wrong.
“Ewan’s,” he corrects me.
Even better. If he’s Ewan’s age, he’s three years younger than I am. Our paths really didn’t cross back in the day. He’s never worked directly for me. I’m sure as the local plumber they’ve contracted for Hayes Industries at some point, but even then, that’s probably rare, since we have a full-time maintenance staff.
What the hell could I have done to this guy?
“He’s got to have some motive,” Anton surmises. “And we need to figure out what.”
“No, no, we do not,” Gus warns.
Popping up from his chair, Anton rubs his hands together, a devilish look appearing in his eye.
“Now, Gus, are you really going to sit back and let this happen?”
“Didn’t say that.”
“Then we need a plan.”
“A good one,” Jace adds.
“And here I thought we’d start with a bad one,” I quip, unable to help myself.
Jace shrugs, still leaned back in the chair, letting my sarcasm roll off him like water off a duck’s back. Must be nice to be so unaffected.
“Look, all I want is to get this approved. To build the playground for Dolly, so that…”
I trail off, not able to finish that sentence. Or maybe just not wanting to finish it out loud.
So that I can show her I might be good enough…
“Stupid question, but it has to be a playground? We can’t help upgrade the diner?” Anton asks.
“Has to be a playground.” I nod solemnly. Although if she wants to upgrade the diner, we’ll do that too. Fuck, I’ll build her a whole new one. And another one on top of it. That doesn’t change that the playground is nonnegotiable though. “We met on the playground.”
So you’re my Wendy…
“Fuck, dude,” Jace mocks throwing something at the ground, shaking his head. “You sure you’re not sneaking peeks at my books?”
“No, he’s just making it fucking impossible for the rest of us to live up to him,” Anton mutters.
I shrug, not giving a damn what they think. I have something to prove.
And I’m still probably going to come up short.