3. Sawyer #2
“I need to go.” My suit is now ruined, my designer shoes completely covered in cow shit, and as I run my hands through my hair without thinking, mud now licks up my cheeks.
I really need to go before I lose my cool. I’m angry and embarrassed and completely out of my comfort zone here on a fucking farm, delivering fucking contracts like some intern.
“Thank you for stopping by. I’ll look through the paperwork tonight and let you know if I have any questions,” Annabelle says, and I nod.
Then, without saying another word, I turn the corner and round the house, spotting a few chickens nearby that look at me like they want to peck my toes, along with rows and rows of thick lavender and roses, both surprisingly fragrant.
Peeling off my jacket, I place it on the seat of my new truck with a huff before I get in and drive straight back to town.
I’ve been here not even a day, and I already hate it.
But when my eyes look to the rearview mirror and I spot Annabelle, hands still on her hips, standing in the same spot, watching me drive away, her image getting smaller and smaller the farther I go, I find that I have to force my eyes back on the road.
As I pull back onto the shithouse road that’s full of holes and rocks that flick up onto my new truck, my cell rings, my brother's name flashing.
“What!” I answer, my mood clearly not any better. Probably because I still feel the shit and mud that’s coating my suit and skin.
“Whoa, bad day, brother?” the smart-ass asks, and I imagine he’s floating around in his pool in LA, without a fucking care in the world.
“You could say that.”
“What’s got your knickers in a knot?”
I swear if he was here, I’d punch him.
“I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere with cow shit on my suit.” Even getting out my frustration, I’m still glancing up at my rearview mirror, searching for the small-town beauty I just met and being immediately disappointed that I can’t see her anymore.
“Cows? Have you been eating gummies?”
“Gummies? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Sawyer, you and cows don’t really go together. Where are you? Jersey?”
I roll my eyes. “No, Whispers. Where are you?”
“Home. Just trying to lay low.”
I turn the corner onto the main highway again, glad to have smooth asphalt under my tires, even though the stench of shit is starting to fill my truck.
“Lay low? You? Yeah, right.”
My brother loves the limelight. Even as a kid, he was always the one showing off in front of everyone. Especially the girls.
“How long are you in Whispers for?” He’s never been here, but he knows Connor and is best friends with Hudson, the local doctor.
“Not for long, if I have anything to do with it.” I see Distillery Drive up ahead and turn down, needing to speak with Tanner.
“Alright, well, I’ll call you later in the week. I might have something for you,” he says cryptically, but I don’t ask. There’s always something going on with him.
“Sure, talk then.” I end the call as I pull up to the distillery. As luck would have it, both Connor and Tanner are standing out front, so I jump out and strut straight up to them.
They take one look at me, and their faces morph into shock before they both get matching shit-eating grins.
“What the hell happened to you?” Connor asks, trying not to laugh.
“I ruined my fucking suit, that’s what happened.”
“You smell like shit,” Tanner says.
“That’s because it is shit!” I deadpan.
“Annabelle’s?” Tanner asks.
“Yes, Annabelle’s.” Oddly, my temper recedes a little at the mention of her name. Both the Whiteman men murmur and nod.
“You didn’t tell me she was a crazy farmer with crazier kids.” I don’t really mean it, but my aggravation lingers.
“She isn’t. She’s just got a lot on her plate.” Tanner looks at me pointedly.
“Yeah, well, her son looked like he wanted to gut me,” I murmur to them, remembering how Kevin’s eyes flamed when he was getting the cow back in the shed.
“Kevin? Nah, he’s harmless.” Connor shrugs and continues to grin.
“I need you to look after her,” Tanner says as he watches me carefully, and I frown.
“What do you mean?”
“She’ll need help with all the legal things but also the business side. I want Victoria and myself to remain impartial, so I need you to ensure she understands things.”
“I’m a lawyer, not a business coach.” I scrub my face. I knew I should’ve gone over the details with her.
“This is what it means to work in a small town, Sawyer. We all rally together and help each other. Not to mention, you’ll be paid accordingly.
Annabelle has a lot going on and is too proud to ever ask for help.
So all I’m asking is if you can make sure that whatever she signs, she knows what it entails.
And offer business advice if and when she needs it. ”
Releasing an impatient breath, I shake my head. “I need a shower.”
“Yes, you do.” Tanner nods in agreement.
“And a fucking big bottle of whiskey,” I say, and they both chuckle.
“Well, you’re in the right place.” Tanner’s grin widens.
“That's debatable.” I give them both a death stare.
“Welcome to Whispers!” Connor says jovially as his hands fling out to his sides, and he smiles like he’s in a tourism commercial.
My return smile is fake, and they know it. “Fuck you.”
They both cackle as I stride back to my truck and drive to my new place on Billionaire Boulevard. A shower’s in order, and there are a million things to do, including ordering a new tailor-made designer suit.
Yet the woman with the blond hair isn’t very far from my mind for the rest of the afternoon.