Chapter 22 Jackson #2
By unspoken agreement, they dug into their food, turning to easier talk of work issues and social plans as they ate. There were no recriminations. In front of the restaurant, they shared a hesitant moment on the sidewalk but Niamh’s smile was genuine, unruffled.
“Maybe I’ll look for someone with less hidden depths to hang out with. I’m after an easy life and you’re quite hard work, you know. Way too brooding for me.” She squeezed his arm affectionately and pressed her lips to Jackson’s cheek. “I’ll see you around.”
His father was on time, pacing by his car and having an intense conversation on his cell when Jackson pulled up in the parking lot of the Branning Lake Country Club. He caught the tail end of it as he approached.
“As long as they think he’s one hundred percent onboard, I don’t care how he plays it. Get him to promise whatever’s needed. He’ll be out long before he has to come up with the goods.” His dad’s eyes cut to Jackson’s face. “Got to go. Let’s speak later.” He hung up without another word.
“Everything OK?” Jackson asked.
“Yes, all good. Just Florian with some queries.”
Caught in a drowsy interval between the afternoon post-golfing drinkers and the incoming evening clientele, the bar had emptied out by the time Jackson and his father walked in.
Only a couple of tables were occupied. Four guys, straight off the course, bickered noisily over their score cards.
A combination of cigar smoke and self-importance hung in the air.
Jackson suppressed a grimace. This kind of setup wasn’t his thing.
The majority of members were twice his age and, although he could hold his own on a golf course or tennis court, neither sport interested him.
His parents, on the other hand, loved it all, their social circle as entwined with the club as ivy on the bricks of an old mansion.
“That’s Landon over there. Green jacket. At the table by the window. Let me do the talking,” his father said firmly, as he ran a hand down the length of his tie and started forward, his relaxed stride at odds with the tension in his jawline.
“Alistair!” A barrel-chested man in a yellow polo shirt welcomed them as they approached. He was recognizable from the handful of social events the Hales had held at their home but Jackson couldn’t recall his name for the life of him. They all looked alike. “Didn’t know you were coming in tonight!”
His father extended his arm for a polite handshake. Jackson did the same.
“Not stopping, I’m afraid. We’ve dropped by for a quick word with Landon.”
Hearing his name, Peake broke off from his own conversation and climbed to his feet, beer glass in one hand. “Great timing—I’ve got a few minutes. Shall we take it over here?” He indicated a nearby table.
They each pulled out a chair, the short-tufted carpet masking the sound, and the low conversational hum resumed in the background.
“Let me get you both a drink.” Peake gestured toward the bar.
“We’re good, thanks.” Alistair unbuttoned his suit jacket and sat down.
“You must be Jackson. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” When the older man clasped his hand with warm, strong fingers, Jackson merely nodded in return. Any pleasure was one-sided.
Landon Peake glanced between them, the encouraging smile of a marriage counselor dancing beneath his mustache. The thought of him talking his way past Leah and through the front door of Amity Court set off a twitch at the corner of Jackson’s right eye.
“The loan, Landon,” his dad began. His voice held an unusually amenable edge. “This is a business arrangement. It’s between us. You don’t need to pay house calls to check up on the situation.”
Peake leaned back in his chair. “Well, you see, it is and it isn’t.
Between us, that is. I’m more than happy to keep it that way in general, but I need to feel on top of how things stand.
I want to know I’ll get my money. And it was such a joy to meet the lovely Miss Raven and her friends.
What a trio they are.” He shook his head, eyes crinkling, and chuckled, as if enjoying a private joke.
“I’d be grateful if you would time any further visits for when I’m at the house. I can give you my number.” Jackson kept his words mild, even as his eyes raked over the man opposite him.
“And you will get your money.” His father lifted his chin.
“Hmm.” Peake took another swig of beer. “I heard about your little bat problem. Celia told Marissa. A hitch you could do without, I’d imagine.”
“It doesn’t change the original plan. We’ll be selling my mother’s house shortly and you’ll be paid back in full when we do.” Alistair’s hand clenched beneath the table, though his voice remained calm.
Peake pulled what could have passed for a sympathetic face if his eyes weren’t glinting sharply.
“That house isn’t going to be an easy sale.
It clearly needs a ton of TLC. And I owe it to my friends and business contacts to share information if someone is becoming a bad risk.
That’s how I operate. I’m sure the last thing you’d want is your social standing affected by something as crass as an unpaid debt.
” Landon Peake was still smiling, still relaxed.
“I know what it’s like. We make this club everything to us, don’t we?
And then, one wrong move, and you’re on the edge of blowing up your whole friend circle, all your business contacts, and probably your marriage, too.
I know Marissa would kill me if I screwed with her golf and spa cronies. ”
Alistair’s face was stony; a flush climbed the back of his neck. “You will get your money,” he repeated.
“Then there’s no problem. My source who says you’ve overstretched Hale Evolution must be wrong.”
His father flinched in his seat. Icy tendrils threaded the vertebrae along the length of Jackson’s spine. What the fuck?
“Hale Evolution has never been in better shape,” snapped his dad, niceties forgotten. “I didn’t borrow money for any other reason than expediency. Stay away from our homes, Landon. I don’t want you bothering my wife with this.”
“If we’re resorting to threats, Alistair, here’s one of my own.
” Peake placed his glass carefully on the table and leaned forward.
“Keep those payments coming or I will pass on your debt to my people in Detroit. And, believe me, you do not want that to happen. They’re not known for their understanding.
” He rose to his feet. “But I’m sure you won’t let it come to that.
” His eyes as chilled as asphalt in February, Landon Peake smoothed his mustache and turned away to re-join his friends.
“What did he mean about the business?” The fingers of Jackson’s right hand opened and closed into a fist on the table.
His father, glaring after Peake, hissed, “He’s talking out of his ass.”
“Don’t keep me in the dark. If there’s anything I need to know, for Christ’s sake tell me now.”
“You’re letting him rattle you.”
“You’re rattling me, Dad.” Jackson propped his forearms on the table. “You, with your secrets and half-truths and autocratic decisions.”
Alistair pushed his chair back. “Schedule a meeting with Florian. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
“The Kingswater site isn’t worth this amount of stress. We could put the team on half a dozen different renovation projects, with less risk on each one of them.” Frustration burned in Jackson’s gut.
“Oh, please. You’re stretched thin enough as it is.
” His father straightened his cuffs, his eyes already drifting toward the doorway.
“Why don’t you concentrate on minimizing the fuckups on the projects we already have and get your grandmother’s house on the market.
Leave the big thinking to me. It’ll work better that way. ”