Page 49 of Every Summer Since
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re looking for Summer.” He scrolled with his thumb. “Which is fine. Understandable, even. Very sweet. What a good little boyfriend.”
He was goading me. He had been all morning. I ignored him and scanned the crowd again. A group of older locals stood near the hardware store with their signs resting on their shoulders, talking among themselves. A woman was handing out water bottles from a rolling cooler.
A group of teen surfers wearing board shorts flirted with a gaggle of young ladies. So far, everything was very peaceful. It was more like a community gathering than a protest. There were families with their kids wearing T-shirts that had been painted. More warnings about ruining their hometown. People who’d lived their whole lives in the town. They all felt connected and very strong about their conviction to keep their town small.
The sun was relentless. It bounced off the pavement and cooked the back of my neck. I pulled my shirt away from my sweaty back.
“They’re calling Judd the Capitalist Crusader,” Cody said.
“Who is?”
“Everyone.” He turned his phone toward me. An Instagram post with hundreds of likes and comments. “Check out this one.” It was a Facebook post with an AI photo of Judd with a red cape. “It’s trending. Locally, at least.”
“Great,” I muttered.
We pushed through the last cluster of people and I finally had a clear sightline to the front of the building. The front was where the rabblerousers were hanging out. A couple of older womenwere handing out flyers. I took one just to see what was being said.
“Shit,” Cody said as we read the bullet points.
“They really don’t like us,” I said.
“When you read this, we sound like villains in a Scooby Doo movie.”
“Dad’s going to be pissed. Our name is getting dragged through the mud.”
“Maybe we pull out,” he said softly.
I looked around. “Not yet. There’s still a chance we can convince them. Show them it’s not all bad. They’re talking about the cost of housing doubling. But for those that own homes, their profits double.”
He gave me a look. “You really think that’s going to convince them it’s a good thing? Hey, we’re destroying your home but good news, some rich prick is going to come along and tear down your family home. The place where you watched your children grow up.”
“Whose side are you on?”
He laughed. “Honestly, I’m not even sure.”
We continued on our way toward the area where someone had a megaphone. I stopped walking abruptly. Cody walked into the back of me.
Judd Mathers was standing at the top of the front steps of the headquarters building. He was wearing a suit that cost more than most people in this crowd made in a month. And while that was offensive, it was the two dudes flanking him in tactical gear that really painted him as the asshole he was. The men weren’t your standard security detail. They had their arms slightly bent at their sides like they were ready to draw their weapons in a second. The men had earpieces. They were looking at the crowd like they were the Secret Service.
Their presence was not helping matters. They were armed and looked like they were hoping someone would step out of line. It was a powder keg and it wasn’t going to take much for things to pop off.
I stared at them and then I looked at the people around me. A woman in her sixties holding a hand-painted sign with a seagull on it. A man with his granddaughter on his shoulders. A teenager eating a popsicle.
“What the hell is that?” Cody asked. “Where are we? Does he think he’s that special?”
“Yes.”
Cody gestured broadly at the surrounding crowd. “These guys look real violent.”
“It’s meant to intimidate,” I said. “Apparently.”
Cody shook his head. “You know, maybe these people have a point.” He tilted his head. “Going into business with this guy might not be a good look for you. The family.”
I kept my eyes on Judd. He was standing straighter. Lifting his chin and glaring down at everyone. It looked like something out of a dystopian movie. He did not care that he was the villain. I think he was actually enjoying the role. He didn’t give a shit that he wasn’t just tarnishing his name. He was making all of his investors look bad as well.
He was an entitled rich asshole. I knew that. I’d known it for a while. The difference between Judd and most of the wealthy men I’d done business with over the years was mostly a matter of degrees. They all had the same instinct that money exempted you from having to understand the people affected by your decisions. Money solved all the problems. It erased accountability.
