Rust and Stardust (Sagebrush Cowboys #1)

1. Lucas

Chapter 1

Lucas

I was single, stressed, and now I realized I was working for a company that was starting its descent into moral ambiguity.

“Well, that was the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard pitched in a board meeting,” I scoffed, giving my friend Logan a nudge as we stepped out of the giant conference room near the top floor of the Harvest Foods office. “Talk about a legal nightmare.”

“The boss's nepo son wants to steal from poor rural Texans…” Logan shook his head. “Maybe he should have become a politician instead of working for a corporation.”

“Anything to make another dollar,” I sighed as we headed down the hall back toward our shared office on the eastern side of the building.

Logan hummed in agreement. He was just as tired of all those stuffy suits as I was. When I’d gotten my master’s degree in marketing, I imagined using it to build small companies and bring better products and people into the world. But when a professor of mine lined me up with a job in New York City that would pay off my student debt in just a couple of years, I couldn’t say no. That was five years ago and there I was, still sitting in that small but cushy corner office overlooking Central Park and still paying off my student loans. It turned out living in New York was more expensive than I could’ve ever imagined. Sometimes I wondered if the view was the only reason I still came to work anymore. It would’ve been a lot cheaper to live somewhere else and make half as much money. But if I wanted to keep my apartment, I had to put on the suit every day.

We reached our office, and I slumped into my ergonomic chair, swiveling to face the sprawling cityscape beyond the floor to ceiling glass. Logan settled at his desk across from mine, loosening his tie with a frustrated tug.

“You know,” he said, his voice low and contemplative, “my uncle's got a ranch down in Sagebrush. Northern Texas. Nothing but rolling prairie and green grass for miles. And they’ve got some of the best barbecue in the world.”

I turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Sagebrush? Sounds like the kind of place these corporate vultures would love to swoop down on.”

Logan's lips quirked into a half-smile. “Maybe. But it's also the kind of place where a man can breathe, you know? No skyscrapers, no traffic, no...this.” He gestured vaguely at our surroundings.

I nodded, considering what he was implying. “Do you ever wish?—”

“Already figuring out where to scout for our new line or recipes, huh?” a familiar voice chuckled from behind us. “That’s why I hired you two.”

Both of us turned to see the big boss stepping into our office. In a flash, we were out of our seats, giving him our full attention. The boss rarely came down to our office to see us. We got the corporate card every year for Christmas and a handsome bonus for our work, but talking to him face to face was nearly unheard of.

“We were just—” I began.

“No need to explain,” he said, cutting me off as he held up a hand. “I know you boys do good work and you make this company good money. It's that kind of ambition and loyalty that I need right now,” the boss continued, his tone growing serious. “I've got a special assignment for you two. Off the books.”

Logan and I exchanged a quick glance. This was unexpected.

“What kind of assignment, sir?” I asked cautiously.

The boss moved further into our office, closing the door behind him. “I need you to go to Sagebrush, Texas.”

My heart skipped a beat. So, he had overheard our conversation.

“There's a small country fair down there that’s famous for its food. At least ten different barbecue champions have come out of that county alone in the past thirty years,” he explained. “I need you two to go down there, pose as tourists, and scope it out. And once you’ve eaten the food, send me the recipe.” He glanced over at Logan. “Pretty opportune timing, considering you have family there.”

I felt a knot forming in my stomach. This was exactly the kind of corporate vulture behavior we'd just been criticizing.

“Sir… how are we supposed to get the recipes for their food?” Logan asked, sticking his neck out so I didn’t have to. “Barbecue champions keep that information under lock and key. They wouldn’t give it up even if Jesus himself asked for it.”

“Get creative,” he replied smoothly, his tone hinting at something much more sinister.

I cleared my throat nervously. “Are you… uh… asking us to steal recipes from people?”

“I’m simply saying that if I don’t have five recipes for our new southern picnic line next year on my desk by the end of the month, you two will be looking for new jobs.”

My stomach felt like it had turned to lead in an instant.

“What if we just bought the recipes?” Logan offered. “Rural Texans can’t be too picky about that kind of thing, right?”

“By all means,” the boss shrugged. “Spend your money however you want.”

“I meant?—”

“I know what you meant, and my answer is no,” he snapped, cutting Logan off. “My son was right. Research and development are a waste of time. A bunch of useless scientists in a lab are never going to create something regular people actually want to eat. Why would we pay them when the good folks of Sagebrush, Texas, have already figured it out?”

“But the board?—”

“I don’t give a fuck what the board thinks,” the boss snapped.

Both Logan and I stood there, too stunned to speak. This didn’t sound like the man who sent us Christmas cards and bonuses with thank-you notes each year. Then again, maybe we’d just been kidding ourselves that they were actually personalized. That we could be that important to the company. From the way the boss was talking, it sounded like we were just as much a pawn as everyone else, to be used when he needed his dirty work done.

“Oh, and don’t use company cards while you’re there,” he added. “This research mission is off books and on your own dime.” With a dismissive wave, he headed back toward the door. “And boys,” he added. “If you get this right, there might just be a promotion waiting for you when you get back. And maybe even a seat at the executive’s table.” His eyes glimmered maliciously as he stared at us. “I know a couple of low-level marketing reps that have some big student loans. Wouldn’t it be nice if those just disappeared?”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Logan and me in stunned silence. We stared at each other, the weight of what we'd just been asked to do settling heavily on our shoulders.

“Did that just happen?” I finally managed to croak out.

Logan nodded slowly, his face a mix of disbelief and disgust. “Yep. We just got ordered to go down to Sagebrush and steal recipes basically from my family and neighbors.”

I slumped back into my chair, running a hand through my short, dark hair. “This is insane. We can't actually do this, can we?”

Logan leaned against his desk, loosening his tie even further. “I don't see how we have much of a choice. It's either this or unemployment.”

“You’d steal from your own people? ”

“I just renewed my lease for three more years,” he replied. “It’ll cost nearly three months' worth of paychecks to break it if I get fired. Not to mention, I’m barely making ends meet now.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, understanding his predicament. I was in a similar boat with my own finances. “So, what should we do?”

“We go to Sagebrush,” he said. “We keep a low profile, get the recipes, and then get the hell out of there.”

I nodded reluctantly, knowing Logan was right. We didn't have much choice. But as I gazed out at the sprawling city below, a tiny seed of rebellion took root in my mind.

“Alright, we'll go,” I said slowly. “But maybe... maybe we don't have to play entirely by his rules.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

I leaned forward, lowering my voice. “We go to Sagebrush, sure. But instead of stealing recipes, what if we actually talked to these people? Learned their stories, their techniques? We could come back with something authentic, something that honors their traditions instead of exploiting them.”

“Lucas,” he sighed, shaking his head. “That’s a really cute social justice angle on the fact that you’re still taking their recipes without compensation so the company can profit from them.”

I flopped back into my chair, realizing he was right. “Fuck…” I ground my palms into my eyes, trying to come up with a different idea. “Are you sure we can’t just buy the recipes? Or maybe your family has some we can use?”

“We’d never be able to afford even one. Plus, they’d want a cut. You’d think a bunch of hicks in rural Texas would be stupid, but they’re not. Especially not when it comes to family secrets. And that includes my family. They aren’t going to give those up without getting a cut of the profits.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. That pretty much sums it up.”

“So, what choice do we have?”

“We don’t,” Logan muttered. “It’s either recipes or unemployment because not a damn person in this whole company is going to choose us over the boss.”

I let out a long, defeated sigh. “When do we leave?” I asked, turning back to Logan.

“Tomorrow,” he replied firmly. “We'll drive down. It'll give us time to figure out a plan.”

“You want to drive all the way to Texas?!” I balked. “That’ll take days!”

“Can you afford a plane ticket right now?”

“No…”

“Then I guess we’re driving.”

I sighed again, but this time out of pure frustration. Long road trips sucked, especially ones that would take nearly two days to complete. I hated being backed into a corner like this, and I truly could not afford to be traipsing about the country. There was hardly enough money in my account to cover the cost of food, much less anything else. And that meant using my emergency credit card, more debt, and even more reason I needed this stupid fucking job in the first place.

“Fine,” I said, pushing myself up from the chair and slamming my laptop shut before shoving it in my bag. “But I’m taking the rest of the day off because fuck these people.”

Logan grinned. “You know what? I’ll join you in that.”

“Chinese food?”

He nodded. “I’ll get the beer.”

I knew I shouldn’t be spending money on such things, but I was too exhausted and pissed to care at the moment. Besides, a tiny comfort before the shitstorm of morally reprehensible things I was about to do seemed insignificant. Because after this month I’d forever have to live with the fact that I was a corporate thief, just like everyone else on the executive team upstairs.

I just hoped that the promotion was worth it.