A Matter of Trust Page 4

  Chapter Seven

  There wasn’t a parking spot left in front of the town hall. Ben was in the passenger side, trying to gather his thoughts as Jack drove. He still hadn’t figured out how to start this meeting, but he was pretty good at assessing a situation and running with it in the moment. He wiped his face as Jack pulled up to the boxlike, blue building, its paint faded and peeling. Concrete steps went up to the front doors, which were propped wide open. People were still pouring in, some with signs that he could only imagine were meant to intimidate him and the other residents who had come to listen. The protesters would stir up the energy, the anger, so no one would ask questions or have an open mind. It was a heavy-handed tactic meant to send him packing, but they didn’t know Ben Wilde if they thought he would run from a challenge.

  He glanced over at Jack, who was just sitting there with the truck idling. The man was a mystery. He’d said nothing to Ben about that morning and Carrie’s outburst. Whatever was between father and daughter, Jack wasn’t about to talk about it, and not with some stranger he barely knew.

  “Well, thanks for the lift,” Ben said.

  Jack just nodded. “I’ll bring you back after your meeting,” he replied—and that was that, no encouragement. Jack was holding on to something, too, and Ben couldn’t put his finger on it. It seemed a lifetime of secrets were bottled up in this man, things he’d never share with anyone.

  Ben slid out, taking his laptop with him. He waved as Jack pulled away and then started up the steps, taking a deep breath as he passed angry people, arms crossed. A few shouted the same rants he had heard before: “Go home, we don’t want you here!”

  He kept going, looking no one in the eye as he walked into the large, square room. It had hardwood floors, white walls—sterile, plain, an average town hall. There must have been twenty full rows of old wooden chairs, with people standing at the sides and the back of the room as Ben made his way to the front. People were coming in from everywhere. He was grateful that there was at least a table set up for him at the front, as well as an old microphone. Yay, he thought, knowing this was why he generally left this kind of thing to the PR people, who were used to dealing with angry, irritable—he paused as he took the crowd in. Many of the people here were like his parents and their friends, people he had grown up with.

  He put his computer on the table and then left it sitting there as he realized that it wasn’t going to work. These weren’t the type of people who’d be swayed by someone with a fancy laptop or a slideshow presentation. Even though he’d outlined an amazing presentation that would cut to the heart of the matter, he could tell by their faces that it wouldn’t work.

  It was then that he spotted Carrie in the front row, third from the end, beside a large Native man. He had dark hair and was older, and both appeared to be here only as a matter of principle. They had already made up their minds. Ben stepped in front of the microphone and raised the stand so he wouldn’t have to hunch over.

  A man in the corner, with thinning hair and a plaid coat, strode over to him and said, “Just flick this on. It’s ready to go.” He gestured to the button on the side of the microphone, attached to a long cord.

  Ben pulled the microphone from the stand, unwinding the cord, feeling the need to move around. He leaned against the table behind him, flicked the microphone on, and tapped it with his finger. It echoed, and the hum of voices quieted. “Hello. My name is Ben Wilde.”

  “Go home, you oil company scum!” a man shouted from the crowd. There was a rumble of voices. The toughest part would be getting them to hear him out.

  “I had a speech and presentation all prepared for you folks.” He took in the look of anger on the faces in the audience as he held the microphone and crossed one arm over his chest. “Look, I know that you’re not happy I’m here. I get that, but I would ask that you hear me out, and then I’ll answer any questions you folks may have.”

  “We don’t want any oil here!” someone else shouted from the audience, and Ben couldn’t help himself. He looked over to Carrie, who was craning her neck to see who had spoken. Of course, when she looked back at him, he was still watching her, and her face flushed.

  “I assume everyone already knows the details of the proposed project, the seven hundred miles of proposed pipeline to the coast that will transport the crude oil,” he began. “You need to know that this isn’t something we planned overnight. We’ve done our homework, and we’re taking precautions, using technology to ensure our distribution is done safely, with minimal impact on the environment, and—” He had to hold his hand up at the outburst from the audience. “Our record is solid, but we know we can do better, and we’re willing and ready to work with each community to ensure all safety and environmental protocols are met. Look, folks, I grew up in rural Idaho, and my dad raised us to respect the land and look after it, because it’s all we have. I understand your concerns. We’re not coming in and doing this without consulting with you.” He touched his chest with the flat of his hand. “This is a partnership. With this project, we’re bringing revenue, income, jobs to this community. The land stewardship that—”

  “We can’t afford an oil spill here!” Carrie shouted. “How can you stand there and tell us how safe it is? What can you do to guarantee that there won’t be a spill? If that happened, it would cripple the coast and this community!” She was staring at him, standing now. It could have been just the two of them in the room.

  “Well, for one, we carefully select the pipes used in the project during manufacturing and installation. We’re using x-rays to inspect all of the welding during construction, and our technology is cutting edge, similar to what’s used in the medical field. We can detect the tiniest changes in any structure…”

  He stopped talking. People were whispering, and he could hear discord in the hum. He was about to say they were meeting and exceeding government standards, that they weren’t cutting costs on any aspect of the project, but at this point he knew it wasn’t what this crowd wanted to hear.

  “What about the safety rules that were broken at over half of your pumping stations?” a man shouted. “There was no emergency shutdown or any backup power, and this wasn’t something your company was willing to disclose. In fact, your CEO tried to bury it!”

  Ben wanted to cringe. He remembered all too well how that report had been misfiled by someone in the typing pool, never making its way to him or Peter. It was embarrassing, not one of their best moments, but they’d since made sure everything had been brought up to standards.

  “What about the oil spill in Wisconsin and the leak in Red Deer?” someone shouted, and then everyone was yelling at once, naming every one of their fuck ups, along with those of every other oil company.

  Someone whistled, loud and brisk, cutting through the commotion. It was Jack, walking up the middle aisle. He held his hands up and faced the crowd just in front of Ben. “Folks, I used to be in the oil business. You all know that. I’ve done my share of things that I’m not proud of, and I have to live with that. There’s no way around it. Every one of you has done something you wish you could go back and undo. I’m not saying it’s okay, what he’s proposing, but you need to listen to everything this man is saying. For one, the money being offered—what will it mean to this community? Ray, you haven’t worked in how long?” Jack said, gesturing to the man who had spoken up. “Many of us are barely making ends meet, living just above the poverty line. You can see it in the community when you drive through. Martha, you’ve needed that hip surgery but have no insurance to pay for it! What I’m saying, folks, is that this is an eighty-billion-dollar project, though what they’re offering this community is just a small portion of what it should be, since you here are assuming all of the risk.”

  There was silence in the hall, and Ben watched Jack, the quiet man who was so full of surprises. He didn’t quite know what to say.

  Jack had just put their project right back on the table.

  Chapter Eight

  She
couldn’t remember ever being this mad—spitting mad, furious! At the same time, she felt speechless and embarrassed, sitting there as her father had the nerve to walk up front, and stand shoulder to shoulder with Ben, in front of the entire town. The final straw, which brought Carrie’s simmering rage to a full boil, was that not only had he managed to get everyone to quiet down, but also had gotten them to listen. She could see it as she looked around at their faces, all the people she knew, who had fought side by side with her on this issue. Their expressions said it all: They were considering what her father had said.

  She shut down, unable to hear anything else from her father or Ben. Her mind and heart were stuck on what her father had said, spinning it around as if a thousand bees were buzzing in her head. When the meeting broke up and people started filing out, now without the air of disdain and protest, she kicked her chair, calling her father a few choice names under her breath. People shot her a look, and one woman gasped, but she ignored them. To Carrie, this was personal. How many of the townspeople would now go home and consider a different perspective because of the money?

  She was sickened that everything always came down to cash, and this was an argument she’d had with her dad for years. The fact was that he had never been there for her, growing up, until her mother got sick. He had been an engineer with one of the country’s largest oil companies, and they had spent years overseas in Bahrain, Indonesia… Her father had made really good money, working long hours, driven by his need to succeed, all the while allowing the distance to grow between them.

  Carrie was walking along the side of the road about a mile out of town, wearing her sneakers, blue jeans, and a caramel cardigan. She didn’t know where she was going. She just needed to walk off everything she was feeling: the hurt, the anger, the betrayal that was building inside of her like an inferno. She needed to defuse it all before she did or said something that she’d regret--again. She didn’t know what made her look up, but she noticed someone on the other side of the road jogging her way. She almost tripped over her feet when she realized that it was Ben Wilde. Not only was he drop-dead gorgeous but he also ran, obviously to stay in shape and keep that hard, lean, toned look the women loved. She didn’t miss the cut of his biceps, his thighs, his lean hips, a body you could really lean into—that is, if you liked the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing. Something about him seemed to scream that he knew how to treat a woman. Hell, he probably dated half a dozen at a time--a womanizer. That had to be why he was still single, Mr. Hot and Gorgeous Bachelor.

  He didn’t see her right away, and that made her feel terribly self-conscious. Her first instinct was to stick her head down and keep walking, but then she realized he had something stuck in his ears—ear buds. He was listening to music. She could probably keep right on walking and he wouldn’t notice her. Yeah, okay. She’d look away and pretend not to see him, either.

  “Carrie!” he called out, pulling the ear buds from his ears and jogging across the road. He wore black shorts, cross trainers, and a white t-shirt. He was all sweaty, of course, but instead of being disgusted, she was fighting the urge to step closer. How could a man all damp and sweaty not smell revolting? Good grief, this man was a magnet! She wanted to snarl at him, but maybe her common sense was starting to kick in, after all. He raised a brow as if reading her mind.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you,” she said, wondering if her nose was growing.

  “Yeah, you did. You were ignoring me.”

  She couldn’t believe he had called her out! No one did that to her--ever. She stared up at him, her mouth open.

  “What?” He shrugged, putting his hands on his very enticing hips. “Sorry, Carrie. I call it as I see it, business and…personal.” The way he said “personal” had her heating up again, and it was far from warm outside.

  She started to say something, and Ben did nothing to help. In fact, he just watched her as if he had all day to wait her out. “I needed to clear my head, think about today.” She glanced away, hoping he’d say thanks and be on his way. Instead, he sighed.

  “Yeah, it got pretty heated in there. I suppose you didn’t like the fact that your dad spoke up.” Ben was watching her reaction, and no matter how she tried, she couldn’t hide the hurt that came with the mention of her father.

  She shrugged. “Never know what Dad’s going to do, but I didn’t expect that. It was such a betrayal,” she said, tasting sour grapes in her mouth at the mention of what he’d done.

  “To who, you?” Ben said. She thought he sounded angry. “Sounded to me like a man trying to get folks to listen and get all the information before they make a decision that could greatly affect them for the rest of their lives.” He crossed his arms and didn’t move any closer even though she could feel him, as if he’d invaded her space.

  “Yeah, of course you’d see it that way. My dad’s also an oilman, so yes, he’s on your side,” Carrie snapped, starting to stomp off.

  “Hey.” Ben reached for her arm, and her eyes went right there, to where he had touched her. She wheeled around, angry, because his touch had stirred something in her that she had no right to feel with him. He lifted his hand and held both up with a carefully guarded expression. “Calm down,” he said. “If you take a minute to think about it, you’d realize your dad wasn’t on my side, he was on the town’s side.”

  “How is he on the town’s side? That’s such bullshit. Even the mention bringing your oil company and that pipeline project to this community, my community—the community I’ve stood side by side with, the community that’s been dead set against this project from the beginning…it’s such a betrayal!”

  “A betrayal to you, maybe, but I don’t think you’re really just talking about this project,” he said, leaning in. There was something in his eyes, a dark expression that she didn’t like. It was as if he was calling her out on everything. “Just be sure you’re not confusing whatever is happening between you and your dad with your stance on this project. Your dad was the only one at that meeting who was thinking clearly.”

  She started to say something, but Ben gestured sharply for her to stop. “Enough. Listen to me,” he said. “You have a community that’s living below the poverty line. There are families that can barely afford to put food on the table, a roof over their head, clothes on their kids’ backs. Look at the shadows all around you of the burden these people carry: the rundown buildings, the fishing boats moored in the water, rotting. The fishing industry is in the toilet because of all the cuts and government restrictions, and your dad sees that. Smart man. With poverty comes hopelessness, especially for the children. I hope some of the people who were at the meeting will listen to him.”

  “He wants to support a pipeline project through here! There’ll be tankers and—”

  “No, he doesn’t!” Ben shouted, cutting her off. She had to step back, because she’d never seen a man get so worked up with her. His whole energy was fired toward her in that instant. “He told you, all of you, to renegotiate your share from what was offered. You have all the risk, and he gave you an idea of what we’ll gain. What he said was very clear. He was trying to get you all to think in dollars and cents. You’re not being offered your fair share, considering you’re assuming the greatest risk. He just wants this town to negotiate a bigger piece of the pie so that the town and the people in it can prosper. Then maybe there’ll be something to talk about.”

  She frowned. All she had seen was her dad waltzing up there to try to undo all of her hard work. This, being part of this protest, had defined who she was. It had given her something to believe in, and the fact was that oil companies had a history of creating catastrophic environmental damage and dumping the cost entirely on the affected communities, crippling them for years and years.

  “What your dad is proposing certainly won’t make my company happy, so know that this isn’t a win-win for us, not by any means. Your dad wants to cut into our profit, but I just happen to respect what he’s done. From where I’m standing, he app
ears to be the only one looking at what’s best for every one of you--and this town.” Ben let his arms fall to his sides and just watched her.

  He just didn’t get it. If he only knew everything that her dad had done, he wouldn’t be on his side. She began to open her mouth, but Ben angled his head, frowning. She wondered if he could read her thoughts.

  “You have issues with your father, so maybe you’re not able to be objective,” he said. “Let’s just hope the rest of the town can be.”

  “I don’t have issues with my father. He’s…” She stopped. How could she explain how complicated their relationship was?

  “Have dinner with me,” Ben said.

  “What?” She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d asked her to stand on her head.

  “Tonight. Just two people having dinner, and we leave our issues with each other at home.”

  His entire expression was intense. She really needed to say no—hell, no! But her body, her heart, every part of her felt something come alive, just being around him. It didn’t make her happy, of course, because she felt as if she was betraying a part of herself that she needed to stay true to.

  “I shouldn’t,” she replied.

  He smiled brightly. “Come on, don’t think about it. Besides, you need to eat, and so do I. Just say yes. Let’s just do it.”

  This time, when he put his hand on her arm and squeezed softly, she probably would have agreed to anything. “Okay,” she said.

  Chapter Nine

  Ben led Carrie into the only restaurant in Kit Cove. He had managed to chat briefly with Jack and borrow his truck, since getting a rental vehicle in this small community would be impossible. He hadn’t planned for this, either, but right now, the way this project was twisting and turning and taking on a mind of its own, nothing was as simple and straightforward as he’d hoped. Maybe having Verna send a car in would be a smart idea, but that would take time, and tonight he needed wheels. Jack hadn’t hesitated to toss his keys to Ben, though, who was grateful that Carrie’s father hadn’t asked what he needed the truck for. Ben wasn’t sure how Jack would react to the idea of him taking Carrie to dinner. Even though there was a powerful disconnect between Carrie and her father, which carried over to Alice, family was still family.