Clashing Hearts - Nicky James

Chapter One

Lachlan

“Picture it. Nestled here”—Fredrick Montgomery tapped a blown-up picture of a map he’d pinned to the whiteboard—“two kilometers outside Jasper, right at the base of the Pyramid Mountains. I’m talking million-dollar condominiums. A fresh new ski resort that caters to this higher-class clientele who will live in these condominiums. And”—he pinned another picture to the board—“a brand new lodge, three times the size of Jasper’s biggest lodge. Can you see it?”

A spark of excitement emanated from my father’s eyes as he dashed his gaze between my brother, Christian, and me.

“But Jasper already has a ski resort and a bunch of lodges. Isn’t it overkill? I don’t understand,” Christian said.

I shifted on my seat, ducking my attention to the pad of paper I kept in front of me in case I needed to take notes. My brother was the king of putting his foot in his mouth.

On cue, exasperation filled our father’s face. “But not like this, they don’t. The old lodges in town are dated. The resort is dated—”

“But—”

“It will increase tourism as well,” I said, cutting my brother off and saving him a reprimand he didn’t know was coming. “I mean, Jasper already brings in a decent amount of tourism, but this could double it easily.”

“Exactly!” Dad slapped a hand on the table and wagged his finger at me with a wide grin. “That’s what I’m talking about. See, you’re using your brain, unlike this mindless idiot.”

Pride swelled my chest as I side-eyed Christian. He’d lowered his focus to the table, frowning as he picked at the corner of a folder. He should know better than to disagree outright with anything Dad had to say.

“Is someone selling?” I turned my attention back to my father and the photographs of mountainous landscapes and deep valleys where he dreamed of putting these new buildings.

“Not yet. But that’s where you come in.” Fredrick rubbed his hands together with a mischievous grin aimed in my direction.

Quirking a brow, I glanced at Christian who was paying attention again and looked scorned at being left out.

Smirking, I tipped my head, encouraging my father to explain.

“Right here, nestled in this exact area is the Campbell Stables and Riding School. They own over three hundred acres of land that span up a favorable part of the mountain and butt up against Pyramid Lake. It’s a golden area, rich for development.”

“And what makes you think they’d sell?” Christian asked, earning another sneer.

“After some investigating, it’s come to my attention the stables aren’t doing well. The old man who owns the land is struggling to keep up with bills and land taxes, and they are in a financial mudslide. In a couple of months, he won’t have a choice unless he wants to declare bankruptcy.”

“So we go in now and make an offer he can’t refuse before others catch wind of the potential developmental area,” I finished for him.

“Yes!”

I rolled the plan through my head. My face hurt from smiling.

“So why does Lachlan get to go make the deal?” Christian glared between the two of us. “He’s already in over his head with the Bertrand deal. I’m more available.”

“No. This one is too important. This could send our company rocketing into the next stratosphere. We think we’re monopolizing the industry now? Just wait and see what happens when we secure this deal.”

I shared the conspiratorial look on my father’s face. A person could never have enough money. Some called it greed; we called it ambition. There was nothing wrong with striving for more.

Fredrick studied Christian’s disappointment. My younger brother didn’t offer the same backbone to the company as I did. He was too argumentative, too pessimistic, and too soft like our mother. Physically, we were similar. Fredrick had strong genes and had given both of his sons his near-black hair, emerald green eyes, and tall thin frame.

Whereas Christian wore his hair longer and windswept, I kept mine short and styled to within an inch of its life. Not a single hair was permitted to fall out of place. I wore only tailored-to-fit designer clothes and top-of-the-line loafers, while Christian was comfortable in off-the-rack slacks and unknown brands for shirts and ties—something I would never understand.

He wasn’t the right image for Montgomery Developing, and Father knew it.

“You’ll take the Bertrand deal from Lachlan and close it. The legwork on that project is done.” Before Christian could object, Father turned to me. “You’ll leave tomorrow morning. Here’s a bit of information I was able to gather on old man Campbell. Our