Chapter 34 Jax
Jax
Icame alone to Cork because it was delivery day at The Banshee’s Rest, and Dee had vendors to yell at.
I’d managed to get an appointment with Fiona Hennessey, a sharp, no-nonsense land developer with the kind of keen eyes that made you feel like she could see straight into your intentions, according to Brad, who had done his homework.
After a bit of convincing, she agreed to meet with me to discuss my “land management concerns.”
As soon as I stepped into The Bookshelf Coffee House on South Mall, which Fiona had chosen for our meeting, I knew I’d like her because this was just the kind of place I liked—understated charm, delicious smells of baked goods and coffee, and a sleek modern décor that offered a surprisingly warm atmosphere.
She was having coffee, black, while I was having a café latte and a mouth-wateringly delicious pain au chocolat.
She took a sip of her coffee and set the porcelain cup back in its saucer. “Let me be frank, Mr. Caldwell,” she said, her Cork accent soft and pointed. “You’ve gotten yourself tangled up with a bad one in Cillian O’Farrell.”
“I figured as much.” I broke a piece of the croissant. “But what exactly makes him bad? Other than the fact that he’s a smug prick with a penchant for screwing people over.”
She gave a dry laugh. “That’s putting it kindly. He’s the kind of man who promises the moon and the stars to these big developers and leads them straight to places like…Ballybeg, which your manager said was your focus—places that don’t want or need development.”
I chewed on my croissant thoughtfully. “So, he’s a con artist with a real estate license.”
“That and more.” She shook her head as if disgusted.
“What he does is sell the idea of a development dream to foreign investors who don’t know better.
He’s good at spinning tales. But what he never mentions is how places like Ballybeg will fight tooth and nail to keep their land.
And the kicker?” She arched an eyebrow. “He’s not even showing them the best properties.
I’ve got files here on two areas that are far more suited for a golf resort—better access, less resistance, and the kind of infrastructure already in place that Ballybeg doesn’t have. ”
I leaned forward, my interest piqued. “And why doesn’t Cillian offer those? I’m assuming he knows about them.”
“Sure, he does, but Cillian can’t make the same kind of money off them that he can by forcing Ballybeg into submission. More money will need to be spent to buy the land and get the permits, all of which means his commission goes up,” Fiona explained.
That didn’t surprise me one bit. I’d seen enough of his smarmy grin to know that Cillian O’Farrell was a jackass of the highest order.
Fiona slid a folder across the table. “Here’s the information on those properties. Brad told me you’ve got the ear of someone in the game, and I suggest you might want to steer them in this direction. It’ll save everyone a headache.”
“And you’ll make a nice commission,” I reminded her.
She grinned. “Everyone has bills to pay, don’t they? Trust me, Ballybeg isn’t worth the fight.”
Maybe to her, it wasn’t, and I knew she didn’t mean it cruelly—it was just business. But to me, Ballybeg was everything. And no way in hell was I going to let Cillian steamroll it.
“Thanks, Fiona.”
I flipped through the files, already knowing I’d need Brad’s team to go through them and pull the key points—the ones I could use to sell this to Big Gil as a better alternative to Ballybeg. “Can you send this over to Brad?”
“Sure. I’ll email this to him right away.” She tapped away at her phone and then set it down. “Done.”
I liked her style.
“Just be careful, Mr. Caldwell. Men like Cillian don’t take kindly to losing.”
“Call me Jax,” I requested. “Cillian is a street thug without the balls to take on a big dog.”
“And are you the big dog?”
“The biggest.”
She laughed, and we talked some more about my plan to save Ballybeg.
“The city council is afraid of scandal,” she assured me. “With the interviews and social media push you’ve planned, they will feel the pinch.”
“How about the protest?” I asked.
She thought about it for a moment. “I think it needs to be more than Ballybeg. Look, there are several villages like Ballybeg in County Clare. Some are ripe for takeovers as rural economies struggle and the young leave for Dublin or Cork. We need to help these communities thrive, not rape their land and throw the villagers out of their homes.” She picked up her phone again and read through a few things.
“How about I send you a list of key people who, like Dee Gallagher, are invested in their communities? If all these villages take a stand together, then not only do we save Ballybeg, but we also prevent other villages from being destroyed by greed.”
“I like how you think, Fiona.”
We discussed the matter further, and Fiona promised to keep in touch.
I liked her.
She was sincere without being smarmy, practical without being greedy, and a good listener.
After the meeting, as I was walking to my car, I saw a jewelry store.
In the window display, I saw an emerald ring; it came as a set with earrings, a necklace, and a bracelet. The green of the precious stones reminded me of Dee’s eyes.
Before I could go inside, I was face-to-face with Cillian and Aoife.
“Well, well.” His grin stretched across his face. “If it isn’t the PGL golden boy himself. Come to Cork for a taste of real civilization?”
I clenched my jaw, forcing a tight smile. “Cillian.” I kept my tone neutral. “What a surprise and not a pleasant one at all to see you here.”
Aoife looked up then, her perfectly arched eyebrows rising.
“Jax Caldwell,” she said sweetly, though her tone dripped with venom. “Still playing the hero in Ballybeg, are you?”
“I’m no hero, Aoife, just a golf golden boy,” I replied dryly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“You can’t save Ballybeg.” Cillian put his hand on my arm to stop me from walking away.
I leveled him with a warning glance. “If you want to keep that hand, you’ll take it off my body.”
There was only one way to treat a bully: you had to show him who the bigger dog was in the fight.
He did as I asked, but didn’t step away. “I have this deal nailed, and when I buy that land of hers, you’ll—”
“How will you buy the land?” I drawled lazily.
“She can’t afford the taxes.”
“But I can.” I smiled. “I can afford to not only pay her taxes, which I have. You should check with the revenue office. In fact, asshole, I can afford to pay taxes for the whole village.”
He went pale as if he couldn’t believe what I’d said.
“Why would you pay Dee’s taxes?” Aoife looked at me, confused.
Now was a good time as any to make the announcement, I thought, since I’d now found a ring to propose to her with. “Because she’s going to be my wife very soon, Aoife.”
Her expression fractured, surprise slipping through the cracks.
“You’re going to marry her?” Cillian looked just as dazed as his ditzy woman. “Why the feck would you marry that bitch?”
“Now, why would you speak of my future wife like that, Cillian, unless you want me to shove my shoe up your ass?”
He stiffened. “I can make this work without her farm,” he declared belligerently.
“I don’t think so,” I remarked and then got into his face. “It was in poor taste to go after your own village, O’Farrell. Really poor taste.”
He scoffed. “What can I say? Some of us have ambition.”
“Is that what you call it?” I arched an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like screwing people over.”
His smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he spread his arms wide as if he were making a statement. “It’s called business. You wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand plenty,” I drawled, enjoying the moment. “And if you did as well, you’d know to stay the hell away from Ballybeg.”
Cillian laughed outright at that, the sound grating on my nerves. “And what are you going to do, golf me into submission?”
“I’m giving you fair warning that once this deal falls apart, which it will, I’ll make sure your reputation is completely ruined.”
Cillian’s smirk faltered.
I pressed on. “You think you’re untouchable, but I’ve got money and contacts, arsehole—and by the time I’m done, you won’t be able to sell a patch of grass to a man with a goat.”
On that note, feeling rather pleased with myself, I walked into the jewelry store and bought my future wife’s engagement ring and some other jewelry that I knew would look amazing on her.