Page 108 of Crash Course
Cruz stood aside, waving Cilla into the roughly twelve-by-twelve office where Phin sat behind a glass desk. Between the desk, the chrome guest chairs, and ornate steel sculpture by the window, the room absolutely screamed Phin and his stellar taste. A woman—Kayla presumably—with long, sun-kissed blond hair sat in one of the chairs across from Phin.
When Cilla entered, Phin came around the desk, holding his arms open for their normal, friendly hug.
After a few seconds—nothing smarmy about Phin Blackwell—he stepped back, gesturing to the blonde.
"Priscilla Randolph, meet Kayla Crowne."
Kayla stood, extending her hand and giving a solid shake. Her bright green eyes crinkled at the edges and her smile came fast and easy, lighting up her face in a way that showed confidence times twelve.
Describing Kayla as beautiful might be a travesty. An understatement if ever there was one.
Phin gestured to the empty chair beside Kayla’s. "Sit."
Given the lack of seating, Cruz leaned against the wall.
Cilla angled sideways and faced Kayla. "Thank you for meeting with me."
"Absolutely. After Phin called me, I thought a few days at my Asheville home would do me some good. Phin updated me on the situation in Morgan and the toxicology report. How can I help?"
Could Cilla out her father to the EPA? After he had sabotaged her case, and might continue to do so?
Yes. If nothing else, she refused to cower to his intimidation tactics.
"My father’s company is producing toxic chemicals that are contaminating the environment. And making people sick."
Kayla nodded. "Phin told me about the little girl. Horrendous."
"It is. My problem is I’m mentioned in an NDA that BARS signed with my father’s company. I believe I can get around that with whistleblower laws, but I don’t want BARS to suffer any blowback."
"Understood. Would you like me to leak something?"
Boom. That fast. She just laid it out there like it was no big deal to wreck a billion-dollar company.
Before Cilla could respond, Kayla put her hand up, her elegant French manicure catching the overhead light. "Gentlemen, could you give us the room?"
Cilla met Cruz’s eye and she nudged her chin.
"Sure," he said. "We’ll wait outside."
The men cleared out and Kayla shifted her chair to face Cilla. "We’re both successful women playing in a man’s world. I asked Cruz and Phin to leave so we could talk openly. No bullshit. No measuring our words. We don’t have time for nonsense and if what you believe is happening in Morgan, people’s lives are at risk."
"It’s not what I believe. The reports are proof."
"Then let’s do something."
Cilla nodded. "I’ve been thinking about a friend from law school. He’s tort law."
Kayla rolled her lips into a pucker. "A class action suit?"
"Maybe. It’s a ton of work. The other option, which could be in addition to a class action suit, is the state leveling fines on Randolph Industries for polluting the environment. My father has been working—supposedly—with the state’s EPA. Just last week, he told me they’ve continually cooperated. Investigators show up, Randolph turns over requested data, and nothing happens."
Kayla cocked her head, considered that. "Nothing? Sorry, but hard to believe. If the toxicology reports are correct, there are forever chemicals in all the areas you tested. Including a stream. And that’s probably not all of it. The town’s water could be compromised."
"Exactly why we’re having this meeting. I’ve spoken to my father. Showed him the reports."
"Let me guess, he played dumb."
Cilla didn’t bother responding. This entire episode was sickening enough. Not only was she betraying her father, she’d lived life on the spoils of Randolph Industries’ success. While she’d led her privileged life, people might have died from Randolph’s pollution.
