Winning Her Forever. Harmony Evans

offices.

      She returned a warm smile. “Good to see you. I heard you and your brother talking outside.”

      “Yes, he was asking me to fly, and he knows I hate to fly, and besides, I don’t have the time.”

      “Come on, Mother,” Steve cut in. “Even though I’m the first born, you always loved Trent more and thought he was a perfect little angel. He’s got to have wings hiding underneath all that muscle somewhere.”

      “I love you both equally.”

      She got up to straighten one of the framed renderings of the developments that hung on the walls. “There’s fresh coffee and muffins if you’re hungry.”

      Trent stepped over to the antique mahogany sideboard that Agnes had insisted be put into the conference room to lend the room an air of elegance.

      Of course, Steve was already there, munching on the last banana muffin, which he knew was Trent’s favorite. He settled for pumpkin, but only because he was really hungry.

      Lawrence ended the conference call with an audible huff and a growl. He put his palms facedown on the table, as if he were about to stand up. Trent had long learned that was a habit, something his father did to steady himself after a difficult conversation. As president and CEO of Waterson Builders, he had plenty of those every day.

      At six foot four, he towered over both of his sons and his wife, but never used his stature as a point of intimidation. It was when he stroked his neatly groomed salt-and-pepper beard that they all knew to brace themselves—not for yelling or screaming, but for tough questions. The company that he’d founded was his baby and he would do anything to protect its interests.

      “What are you two boys squabbling about now?”

      “Angel’s wings, Dad,” Steve said jokingly as he pulled out his chair and sat down.

      “Here’s something that’s not very funny,” his mother said. “Have you read the latest editorials in the Bay Point Courier? That’s the first topic on our agenda today.”

      “No, and I don’t want to hear it,” Trent’s father said, and Steve agreed with a nod.

      Agnes threw up her hands in disgust. “You two are as stubborn as mules.”

      Trent sat down and began to thumb through the paper in front of him. “What’s going on, Mom?”

      “Backlash galore,” she replied with a huge huff of a breath. “Everyone is complaining that our homes are too expensive, and out of reach for the average income-earning person.”

      “I don’t know what the problem is,” Steve muttered, placing his paper to the side. “Luxury homes are our business. We’re not any different from any other company that services high-net-worth customers.”

      “I agree with Steve. We’ve been successful for over twenty years because our customers are overjoyed with their homes.”

      “There’s even an editorial from Mayor Langston,” Trent said, scanning the page. “He thinks it’s our civic responsibility to build affordable housing. I’m actually surprised we haven’t been called out before this.”

      “What is that supposed to mean?” his father demanded with a slam of his fist on the table.

      Trent’s tone was grim. “The luxury townhomes and apartments downtown that were built during the period of revitalization can only be afforded by the wealthy. They’re out of reach for many longtime residents of Bay Point.”

      “We’re a private company, not a public institution. We are only accountable to ourselves and our customers,” Steve piped in.

      “Don’t forget the hundreds of people we employ every day in Bay Point and other cities in the region,” his mother added. “We play an important role in the local economy.”