Page 69 of Crash Course
"Sure."
They each took a seat. Cruz on the sofa and she in the lone side chair. "You didn’t mention you’d be in Charlotte today."
"I wasn’t planning on it."
Uh-oh. Had this meeting been the reason? If so, it probably meant bad news. Why drive nearly three hours to deliver good news when video conferencing would do it?
Definitely bad news.
She sat back, squared her shoulders, and crossed her legs. "Why do I feel like I won’t be happy at the end of this meeting."
"Because you’re a smart woman." He pulled a folder from the backpack he’d placed beside him. "Got a few things to show you."
"Did the sample results come back?"
"They did." He passed the report over and she perused it, searching for the magic PFOA amount on the Tate property. Her heart, along with every other organ, sunk. "Three times the limit."
"Same as the first report."
Still scanning, she shook her head. "I was hoping for a different outcome."
"I know. Sorry."
"Me too. The stream samples tested positive for PFAS." Yet another forever chemical. Cilla set the report on the table in front of her and sat back again. "I’ll meet with my father this afternoon about this."
"You’re gonna show him the report?"
"After meeting Brittney yesterday and knowing she’s sick, I have to."
"And if he asks why you have it?"
She hadn’t quite thought it all the way through, but lying wasn’t an option. Not for her, anyway. She’d share her concerns over Dad not having the full picture, particularly after Paul’s threat this morning, and add that she’d hired BARS to look into it since they were already limited by an NDA.
Still, the conversation wouldn’t be an easy one. He’d most likely rail on her, something that didn’t happen often, but definitely had happened.
She’d survived his wrath in the past. She’d survive it again.
"I’ll tell him I had concerns and hired y'all. I’ll make sure there’s no blowback on BARS."
"I’m not worried about that," he said. "We’re big boys. It’s you dealing with this that worries me."
"Thank you. But I’m a pro when it comes to Darren Randolph." She let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Years of practice."
It sounded good. Too bad she didn’t feel the confidence she’d just proclaimed.
"Anyway," she brightened. "Is that it?"
He handed over a few more sheets. "These are e-mails Rohan found. Between your Dad and Paul. The second one is from someone else."
Cruz held her gaze and something in those blue-gray depths made this little impromptu meeting painfully clear. Whatever was in these e-mails, it wouldn’t be good. Not for her. And probably not for Dad.
"This is why you came here, isn’t it? To deliver these in person."
Which, hello? She was a criminal defense attorney. Did he think she’d fold to the floor in a heap of tears over whatever these documents contained?
Hang on.This was Cruz being a decent human being. Not like some men she’d worked with in the past who’d assumed her father’s influence got her a law degree.
She took a quiet breath, got her mind right. "Don’t answer that," she said.
