1. Disappointed #2
“You wouldn’t last a day out here. You sound too much like old money,” Chris scoffed. “Couldn’t shake that prep school accent if you tried.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have a choice.
” I attempted to change my voice unsuccessfully.
Not only did I have an accent too much like my mother’s high society influence, but we’d also lived for years in Nashville, home of Magnus Music’s headquarters.
It resulted in an interesting blended sound unique to me that I refused to give up; while my brothers worked hard growing up to speak like everyone else.
I unfolded the page. “It says, ‘Prove you can exist without the spoils of riches… or forfeit everything. No money. No Magnus name. Live on your own for a minimum of thirty days. Deadline: midnight, December thirty-first.”
“Christ. How will you ever survive?” His eyes flicked past me to the Ferrari. “And you drove that here to beg.”
“She’s a beauty. I saw the red paint job at the rental place and couldn’t resist. V8 engine, F1 steering wheel, Frau leather interior. She corners like… um…” My voice drifted off at his scowl. What an entitled snob I could be.
“Get out of here. Go get a job waiting tables or something.”
“I’ve tried finding a job all year to no avail. No, really, I have.” I caught his cocky smirk and the tilt of his head. Okay, so my attempts at finding employment were meager at best. Wasn’t there something a playboy could do?
“There’s one problem. We only hire military veterans at the Off-Duty ranches,” he pointed out.
“Perfect. I’m a veteran. I joined the Army Reserve out of college just to piss Dad off.
Look, I don’t want special treatment, okay?
I’m simply asking for a job. That’s all.
I’ll work to meet the terms of this challenge for a month and be done, and we’ll never need to speak again if you don’t want to. ”
“Chris, is everything okay?” A woman appeared on the porch, her voice a drawl, smooth as honey. Her blonde hair and makeup looked as if a team of professionals had just prepared her for a performance.
“This is Carter. My half-brother,” he emphasized. “This is my wife, Nikki.”
“Oh. A Magnus?” Her eyes narrowed, voice instantly cold.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am. Don’t worry, I’m not like Hugh,” I quipped with a smile that typically charmed the ladies. She did not smile back, but side-eyed me.
I knew her history, about the time our oldest brother basically kidnapped her to force her into renewing her performing contract with Magnus Music. Chris saved her, and now she’s well-known and highly regarded as the famous country music star Nicoletta.
As Chris filled her in on the entire ordeal and what I was asking of him, she melted right in front of me with the sympathetic eyes of a mother to a child.
“I see. Well good luck, Carter.” Then she turned to Chris. “Honey, we need to get ready for the barn dance,” she urged.
“Barn dance?” I inquired.
“I’m backing the local sheriff for reelection. We’re having a gathering tonight at the ranch for it,” Chris said, taking the steps up to the broad front porch. He stood by her, no hint of an answer yet, as he pulled her into his side and kissed her temple.
He got the easy challenge from Dad—he only had to marry by a deadline to earn his inheritance.
If it were me, one word and I would have had women in New York lined up around my penthouse building for a chance to be Mrs. Carter Magnus.
But nope—Dad was forcing me to live like a pauper for thirty days. Hardly seemed fair.
“Please, Chris, don’t make me beg,” I called.
“You are begging,” he pointed out.
“I realize that.”
“Everyone deserves a chance. As long as Hugh isn’t involved,” Nikki came to my rescue.
“I haven’t spoken to Hugh in months,” I assured her.
Chris pressed his lips together and glared at the letter in my hand.
He kept me sweating a moment too long before deciding on a heavy sigh.
“Fine. But we’ll keep the real reason you’re working between us, because if the other ranch hands find out what you’re up to…
Let’s just say you’d better be working your ass off from the minute you start tomorrow, or they’ll give you shit.
And if I hear you’re just messing around, I’ll send you packing so fast back to the city, you’ll be scraping for change in the subway. Do you understand?”
“Holy shit. I guess a part of me didn’t think you’d say yes.” I ran a hand through my hair. Everything got very real all of a sudden.
“You’ll come with us to the barn dance and meet Ash tonight?—”
“Tonight? Oh, but I thought I’d head back to the city, pack my things.
Be back in a couple of weeks to start.” And pack up whatever was considered ranch wear.
Read up on what exactly people did to work on a ranch.
Eat my last exquisite Michelin-star meal at Savoire.
Say goodbye to life as I knew it, just in case none of this worked out and I ended up homeless, jobless, and penniless.
“Well, hell, let’s just pull out our schedules to see what day is convenient for you,” Chris offered.
“Really? That’d be great.” I took my phone out of my pocket?—
“No, asswipe! That was sarcasm. Either start now or don’t. Won’t matter to me. You’re the one with the ticking clock,” he scoffed.
He left me no choice. “I-I’ll take it. And thanks.”
“You sure? Because if you can’t handle this?—”
“No! I can do this.” I shouted. “I have to. It’s all or nothing, right?”
Nikki waved me in. “You’ll stick out like a foreigner at the dance tonight, honey. We probably have some boots and jeans of Chris’s you could wear. You know how to two-step, right? The ladies love a cowboy who does.”
“Dear, I think impressing ladies is the last thing Carter needs to worry about right now,” Chris said flatly.
“Come on in, meet your nieces. Courtney Blue and Everly Bell will talk your ear off,” she opened the front door wider, welcoming me.
As I crossed the threshold behind her, my head still catching up, Chris muttered under his breath, “This place will eat you alive.”
Every instinct I had told me he was right and that I should run far away. But for the first time in my life, that wasn’t an option. There was no plan B. No way to buy my way out of this.
I had to grow up and face the challenge head-on if I wanted to earn my inheritance. Even if it meant showing up at some barn dance dressed like a cowboy to start it off.
But first… I asked Nikki, “What’s a two-step?”