Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
CALEB
“ C an someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?” I ask.
Most of those who attended the meeting have left. There are only a few stragglers left talking to members of my team.
Wes comes up, his phone pressed to his ear.
“I don’t care, Caleb wants answers.” There’s a pause. “And so do I,” Wes says, disconnecting.
“Where’s Finnigan?” I ask, looking around. If anyone can answer the question, the bloody landlord can.
“He’s gone. Left as soon as the meeting ended,” Jeff, the man who chaired the meeting says, coming up to stand next to me.
“Get him on the phone,” I say. “I want a meeting with him, in my office, either later today or first thing tomorrow morning. I do not like being blind-sided, gentlemen.”
I feel the glances passing between the men surrounding me but damn it. This is not how I do business.
Wes steps forward. “Her name is April Wilson. She owns a dance school on Sunny Down. It’s on the edge of the development site. ”
“Wes, I’m aware of Sunny Down’s position. I know the bloody site inside and out. I’ve been staring at development plans and schematics for over a year. What I want to know is how the hell we’ve missed this?”
I run a hand through my hair. I want to yell at someone but know it will achieve nothing. Bloody hell, this is not what I need today. And seeing her again, hearing her voice—this is not how I wanted us to reconnect.
Shit! All this time and she was right under my nose.
Wes stops and looks at me strangely.
“Sorry.” I take a deep breath. “Go on.”
“Doug just informed me that the building was locked up the week we reviewed the area. The landlord claimed she was moving out, and it wouldn’t be an issue. Told him she had new premises.”
“Did no one check with her?” I ask.
“They couldn’t. As I said, the premises were locked up, and the tenant was absent. The landlord got a key from the neighbour to enable us to view it. Doug has just said he was surprised because the building was in good repair inside, but the landlord’s story was plausible.”
“Well, clearly, that is not the case,” I say, knowing I’m stating the obvious. “Did no one follow up when she got back?”
“Caleb, it’s one woman,” Wes says, a frown marring his brow. “If her tenancy agreement is up, then we’ve done nothing wrong. We’ve purchased all the property as vacant possession. It’s a landlord issue.”
I stare at the man who’s been by my side since the beginning. “That’s not how we do business, or have you forgotten?”
Wes steps back as if I’ve struck him, and I know I’m being unreasonable. But seeing her again has left me flustered. She talked about her business, what it meant to her, how hard she worked to get it off the ground, and now here I am about to destroy it…albeit unknowingly.
“Were they the protestors?” I ask.
“It looks like it,” Wes says, sighing.
He knows this will be one of those scenarios where I don’t let go.
“The landlord is within his rights not to renew her contract. I understand that. However, listening to Ms Wilson and then other members of the local area, I see that this dance school is part of this community. It needs looking into.” I hold Wes’s gaze. “We’re doing this to assist and improve communities. We don’t destroy businesses. It’s the company’s bloody ethos. It’s my damn ethos!”
“Can we not just buy her out? Compensate her?” One of the newer members of the team says as they approach.
“Community—look it up,” I snap, walking away before I say something that I’ll regret.
I’m known for my even temper, but this afternoon, I’m on the verge of exploding.
Wes appears at my shoulder. “Where are you going?” he asks.
“I’m going to track her down.”
Wes grabs my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “Do you think that’s such a good idea? You should speak to our lawyers. Find out our position.”
My eyes drop to the hand clasping my arm, and he lets go instantly.
“It’s the best fucking idea,” I say. “And tell Doug to do his job. I want every ounce of information we can find on Ms Wilson’s Dance School. I’m going to fix this mess before the press gets hold of it.”
The furrow between Wes’s eyes deepens, but he knows when to stay silent, and a brief nod is the only acknowledgement I receive .
I turn and walk back to my car.
Mason gets out and holds the door.
“Where to, Boss?” he asks.
He’s driven me since the beginning, a driver making it easier to visit sites than find somewhere to park in this city.
“Sunny Down. There’s a dance school there.”
He nods and closes the door.
I run a hand down my face.
“Fuck!” I hiss, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Mason gets into the car, and I sit back, staring out of the window.
It’s time to find April Wilson.