Chapter 26
COLT
Ileaned back in the leather desk chair like I had all the time in the world.
I was cool as a cucumber. I looked at all the little faces in boxes on my screen for what I hoped was the last Zoom call with these people.
Judd’s little tantrum was nothing more than background noise.
The truth was, my heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat, but I’d be damned if I let him see that.
“Are you finished?” I asked when he finally paused to take a breath.
“Finished?” His face was red, whether from the workout or the rage, I couldn’t tell.
Who the hell ran on a treadmill during a business meeting?
It was another sign I was doing the right thing by severing our contract.
“I’m just getting started, Anderson. You think you can just walk away from this? You think there won’t be consequences?”
“I’m fully aware of the consequences,” I said evenly. “That’s why I’m paying the penalty. Every dollar of it. My lawyers have already processed the paperwork.”
The other investors had been eerily silent. I knew it was a shock. I knew I just tanked my reputation in the business world. None of that mattered. I had to do what made my conscience quiet and getting out of the project was the only way to do that.
One of the other investors cleared his throat.
I was pretty sure I saw relief on a few of the investors’ faces.
No one wanted to be attacked by the environmental groups.
We all knew that’s what was coming next.
The locals were already making noise and they were just getting started.
Once their cause got picked up, it was going to be very loud with lots of negative publicity.
“Mr. Anderson,” an older guy said carefully. “Can you walk us through your reasoning? This is a significant financial hit for you personally.”
I appreciated that he was at least asking instead of screaming. I straightened in my chair and looked directly at the camera.
“The community opposition isn’t going to subside,” I said.
“If anything, it’s escalating. We’ve had vandalism, protests, and now property damage.
The locals aren’t backing down, and forcing this project through is going to cost us more in legal fees, security, and delays than any of us initially projected. ”
“That’s what they want,” Judd snarled. “They want us to roll over and give up. And you’re handing them exactly what they want.”
“I’m making a business decision based on updated information,” I countered. “Something I should have done months ago when the signs were already there. I ignored them because I was too focused on the numbers and not focused enough on the reality of what we were walking into.”
“The reality?” Judd’s voice dripped with contempt. “The reality is you got soft. You went back to your little beach town and got sentimental. Don’t think I don’t know what this is about.”
I held his gaze through the screen and didn’t flinch.
“This is about protecting my family’s name and reputation.
The Anderson name means something, and I won’t have it dragged through the mud because you want to bulldoze a community that doesn’t want what you’re selling.
I’ll take the business hit, but trust me, I’ll survive.
What I won’t survive is the guilt that will come from this destruction. ”
“Weak,” he spat.
My father had built the Anderson fortune on calculated risks and knowing when to cut losses. He would understand exactly what I was doing, even if Judd couldn’t see past his own ego.
“My father taught me to know when to walk away,” I said quietly. “And I’m walking away.”
I took a breath and softened my tone. These people weren’t the enemy. Most of them were just trying to make smart investments. I had personally recruited several of them. We had other business ventures together. I hoped those didn’t sour.
“Gentlemen and ladies, I want to apologize,” I said, looking directly at the camera.
“I misled you. Not intentionally, but the result is the same. I told you Surfside was the ideal location. I presented data and projections that made it look like a slam dunk. But I failed to account for the most important variable—the people who actually live there.”
A few faces got bigger on the screen, indicating they were leaning forward. They were listening.
“Surfside doesn’t want this port,” I continued.
“They’ve made that abundantly clear. And what we’ve seen so far is just the beginning.
If we move forward with breaking ground, the retaliation will escalate.
The environmental groups will get involved.
The media will pick up the story. Before we know it, we’ll be the villains in a national conversation about corporate greed destroying small coastal communities. ”
One of the investors—a woman I recognized from a pension fund out of Chicago—leaned forward. “You think it could go national?”
“I know it will,” I said. “And when it does, nobody’s going to want to book a cruise with a company that’s perceived as destroying someone’s home.
The optics alone will tank ticket sales.
You’ll spend millions trying to repair the brand damage, and that’s assuming you can even finish construction without constant delays and legal challenges. ”
I paused, making sure I had their attention. Then I leaned forward, doing my best to look each of them in the eyes.
“I’ll be upfront with you,” I said. “If you move forward with this project, I will publicly oppose it. I won’t just walk away quietly.
I’ll use every resource I have to make sure the people of Surfside have a voice loud enough to be heard.
Not because I’m trying to hurt anyone on this call, but because it’s the right thing to do. ”
The silence that followed was deafening. I watched the faces on the screen. Some looked angry. Others looked thoughtful. A few looked relieved, like I’d just given them permission to voice concerns they’d been sitting on for weeks.
The Chicago woman spoke first. “How significant are we talking in terms of opposition? What kind of resources?”
“The Anderson family has considerable reach,” I said carefully.
“Media connections, legal teams, environmental advocacy groups we’ve worked with in the past. I won’t use any of that to be vindictive.
But I will use it to amplify what the people of Surfside are already saying. This isn’t their fight to lose alone.”
Another investor cleared his throat. “I’ll be honest. I’ve been having second thoughts since the protest footage went viral. My wife saw it and asked me point blank if I was comfortable being associated with that kind of community backlash. I didn’t have a good answer for her.”
“Same here,” another one chimed in. “We have zero local support for the port. Even the local businesses, who stand to profit the most, don’t want it.”
I saw the tide beginning to turn. They were starting to see what I’d been too blind to see months ago.
Judd must have seen it too because his face went from red to purple.
“This is bullshit,” he snarled. “You’re all letting one bleeding heart derail an entire project because he got nostalgic about his summer vacation spot. This is business. Grow the hell up.”
“This is a business decision,” I said evenly.
“It’s bad business to force a project through when every indicator says it’s going to cost more than it’s worth.
You want to talk numbers, Judd? Let’s talk about the cost of round-the-clock security for the next two years.
Let’s talk about legal fees fighting injunctions and environmental impact challenges.
Let’s talk about the PR campaign you’ll need to salvage your brand when this blows up in your face. ”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spat.
“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” I said. “This is a losing proposition. No need to throw good money after bad.”
“This meeting is over,” Judd announced abruptly. “We’ll reconvene when everyone’s had a chance to calm down and think rationally.”
Screens went black as people started dropping off the call. Within seconds, it was just me and Judd staring at each other through our respective cameras.
“You just made a very big mistake,” Judd said quietly. He wiped the sweat from his face with a towel. I was so glad I didn’t have to hear him grunting and breathing hard anymore. The rage was still there but it had changed. He was calculated. That was somehow worse than the screaming.
“Maybe,” I said. “But it’s my mistake to make.”
“You think walking away protects you?” He leaned closer to the camera.
“You think paying the penalty and making your little speech absolves you of responsibility? You brought me here, Anderson. You sold me on this location. You put my name on this project. And now you’re trying to publicly humiliate me to save face with your beach buddies. ”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Like hell it isn’t,” he snarled. “You want to step in the dog shit? Fine. But don’t be surprised when you track it everywhere you go.
I will make sure everyone in our industry knows exactly what kind of partner you are.
I will make sure your name is poison in every boardroom from here to New York.
You don’t know who you’re fucking with. You will deal with the wrath of Judd Mathers. ”
I shrugged. “If you want to go to war, that’s your choice. I know what’s right. And that’s what I have to do.”
Then he was gone and I was staring at my own face. I blew out a breath and hoped like hell I hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of my life.
I needed to run. My body was buzzing with adrenaline and the only way I knew how to burn it off was to pound the sand until my legs gave out. I changed into running gear and headed down to the beach without telling anyone where I was going. Cody would figure it out. He always did.
The morning air was cool against my face as my feet hit the packed sand near the water’s edge.
I fell into a rhythm quickly, my breathing evening out as I pushed myself harder than I probably should have.
My mind replayed the meeting. Judd’s face turning that alarming shade of purple whether from anger or the treadmill was anyone’s guess.
The other investors’ expressions. The moment I’d drawn a line in the sand and dared them to cross it.
I’d just torched a significant chunk of my professional reputation. The penalty alone was going to leave a mark on my quarterly earnings. Dad was going to have questions. Cody would probably tell me I was an idiot and then laugh at me because I’d gone soft over a girl.
Except it wasn’t just about a girl. It was about doing the right thing. My parents would support my choice. They would prefer I keep my principles. Not everything was for sale. That’s a lesson they taught all of us. We were wealthy, but we weren’t dicks.
I pushed harder, my legs burning as I picked up speed. I jogged around some slower joggers and beachcombers. I didn’t miss a couple muttered insults. It was going to take a long time for me to clean up my reputation.
I was maybe two miles into my run when I spotted them.
A cluster of tiny humans on the beach, all lined up on surfboards in the sand.
They were in various stages of what I could only describe as organized chaos.
One kid was lying flat on his board like he was taking a nap.
Another was standing but facing the wrong direction.
A third was attempting some kind of dance move.
And there she was, moving between them with the patience of a saint.
Summer. My beautiful girl.
She was wearing a high-neck rash guard and board shorts, her hair pulled back in a braid that hung down between her shoulder blades.
Even from a distance, I could see the definition in her strong body as she demonstrated the proper pop-up technique.
She looked strong as hell. Capable. Completely in her element.
I slowed my pace, then stopped altogether, my hands on my hips as I tried to catch my breath.
I couldn’t look away. She was crouched beside one of the smaller kids, adjusting his hand placement on the board.
She said something that made him laugh, and I saw his little face light up with pride when he tried the movement again and got it right.
She straightened up and scanned the group. That’s when she saw me standing there like a creep watching her work. To my relief, she smiled and waved. The morning meeting faded from my memory and it was all her. My Summer. Better than the sun and the beach.
I waved back, grinning like an idiot.
Summer’s smile washed over me like a cool wave on a hot day.
It was confirmation that I’d made the right call.
Whatever shitstorm Judd Mathers wanted to bring down on my head, I could handle it.
I’d burned bridges professionally, potentially damaged relationships with other investors, and basically declared war on a man who didn’t know how to lose gracefully.
And it was all worth it.
“I’ve got thirty minutes left,” she said as I got closer.
It was an invitation. One I wasn’t about to reject. “I’ll wait,” I said.
She grinned and turned her attention back to the kids. I would wait for a week.