Page 97 of Strike Zone

“Do you think we should invest in them?” he asks. It’s something I’ve mulled over since I first learned of their situation. I always knew our firm could step in and help because we have the resources, financially and otherwise.

“No,” I answer honestly. If he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it. “If the company helps, they will lose a large percentage of what they have worked so hard to keep. I don’t want to do that to them. They need to retain all interest in their business.”

“What do you want to do? While your starter plan is brilliant, it’s a Band-Aid when what they need is surgery.”

While the fact that Fred Abbott is digging for information about the farm behind the scenes escalates the situation, it was my heart that decided this was the right thing to do—not my head.

I readjust myself in my seat. I don’t know how he will react to what I’m about to suggest. “I want to be the sole investor. My trust will cover the debt and leave enough to foot the bill for some of the smaller construction projects. It will be enough to get them off the ground and generating revenue again.”

“You want to invest?” His eyebrows furrow. “I thought you didn’t want to take away a percentage of the company with an investment.”

“I wouldn’t be. They would retain complete ownership according to the original agreement of the land when they purchased.”

“Wren, I have to advise you against handing over hundreds of thousands of dollars for nothing in return.” He pauses. Leaning back in his chair. “It wouldn’t be, would it?” he asks, putting together what I knew after one night with Wyatt. “That money is meant for your future and your future is there with Wyatt.”

Emotions begin to bubble out of nowhere. I do my best to rein them in. I don’t mind crying in front of my dad, but I don’t want to look like I just had an emotional breakdown before Abbott gets here.

“He hasn’t asked me to stay. However, I wasn’t planning on giving him much of a choice.” We promised each other before we started our friends with benefits situation that we would remain friends. Even if he rejects me, I will still be there for my best friend.

“This feels like the right thing to do. It wouldn’t be without any stipulations. I’ve thought about it.” Using my trust fund and savings isn’t what Jack and Faith had in mind when they asked for my help. They were entertaining a partnership. I can’t do that to them. “Will you help me with the paperwork?”

“Of course,” he answers. There’s a loud knock on his door. “We’ll talk more about the details later. Remember, give nothing away.” I nod. “Come in,” he calls out.

I steel my spine and wait for Fred to enter the room. My dad stands to greet him. The energy in the room shifts immediately. For someone who is so eager to be associated with my family, you would think he could hide his disdain a little better.

“Wren, how nice to see you,” he says, greeting me.

“Hello.” I don’t bother getting up.

Fred takes the seat beside me while my dad fetches them both drinks. It’s tempting to have one myself but I prefer to have all my wits about me for this conversation.

“If we are discussing wedding plans, shouldn’t Daniel be here as well for this conversation?” Fred asks.

“That won’t be necessary. Wren and I have been talking. There isn’t going to be a wedding,” Dad says. He’s relaxed in his chair with his scotch while Fred looks ready to erupt.

“It is happening. We decided years ago.”

“Years ago when they were teenagers, it was idle chatter. It had no weight to it. You were the one who presented the idea again a few years ago. Why?” Dad’s tone is casual. He is doing his best to be amicable. Friendly fire still has a twenty percent death rate. The question is, who’s going to shoot first?

Fred’s eyes narrow slightly. “They would be a power couple. Together they would run both companies. They make sense together.” His hand grips tighter on his scotch. “Daniel cares about Wren. He will be devastated.”

I scoff. Dad’s eyes dart to me with a warning to stay calm.

“I agree both of our children will make great assets to each of our firms, but they are on different paths. I’ve gone over the logistics and it’s no longer beneficial for us to partner up, personally or professionally.”

Fred’s face flushes and his eyes narrow on my dad. “What are you saying exactly?”

“I’m saying that we will no longer be doing business with you. I am severing this connection.” My dad leans forward onto his desk.

“You may want to rethink that,” Fred warns.

“Are you threatening me? Remember, I have just as many connections in this city as you do. You do not want to mess with me or my family.”

Fred stares at my dad silently for a moment. Then he turns his attention to me. “Did you have a nice spring break, Wren?”

“It was fine.” I refuse to elaborate or offer him a modicum of ammunition to use on me later. He doesn’t know I’m already aware of everything he is about to say to me thanks to Daniel’s warning.

“I never thought you would be one to go on vacation in Rivers Bend. There isn’t much to that town anymore.” He pauses for me to respond. I stare at him waiting for him to continue until it gets awkward. It is an interview tactic I’ve picked up from watching murder documentaries with Wyatt. Fred will have to fold or reveal his cards. I’m not saying anything.

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