Matty Dove had 18 months to try and find a buyer for her late grandmother's lighthouse. A buyer who, she hoped, would not only buy the lighthouse, but love the village so much that they would invest time and money into saving the community. In 18 mo...
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Jackson sat at the table, as the woman put a couple beer on the table.
"Will dere bes anyting else?"
Jackson shook his head.
"I'll call you."
He looked at Calvin.
"So this is how the mighty act, when they fuck up."
Calvin sipped his beer.
"I will ask again. Who the fuck are you?"
"I am your new business partner."
Calvin laughed and finished his beer.
"What business?"
"The business of gold, Calvin."
Calvin sat back in his chair.
"What gold?"
"Tuckamore Bay gold. The gold that you and my idiot ex son-in-law, were supposed to secure for me."
"I don't know you and I sure as fuck don't know your son-in-law."
"Does the name, Simon Hirst ring a bell?"
Calvin's expression never changed.
"Look mister, whoever the fuck you are."
"Lamont. My name is Jackson Lamont."
"Well Jackson Lamont. I don't know you and I don't know any Simon Hirst."
Jackson smiled and leaned on the table.
"Look, you stupid fuck. Your stupidity lost you your political career. Look at you now. Sitting in this shitty bar, in the middle of fuck-knows, Newfoundland, drowning your sorrows in beer that tastes like piss.
Now. I am offering you an opportunity, to get some of your dignity back and in the same breath, get back at those that put you here.
Namely Bill Williams and Matty Dove."
"Pricks."
Calvin slammed the beer bottle on the table, causing it to foam over.
