Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Dallas
W arrick was going to shoot himself in the foot with that deal Ms. Hotshot offered him; I could see it as plain as day. I knew what Tender T’s steak was—who on this side of the country didn’t?—but I hadn’t known that my brother was in business with him.
Objectively, I knew it was risky to invest in start-ups, but this was a cattle town; if a meteor suddenly fell from the sky, obliterated every ranch in this town, and scorched the earth with space parasites, there was no way this town would run out of cattle. Portman could give a little.
“It’s page one of every corporate company handbook; screw the middleman,” I grunted while unsaddling the horse I’d taken out half an hour ago.
Grabbing a brush, I began to brush the gelding down while thinking about what I had seen around the ranch. Warrick had certainly turned this place around, and a part of me wondered if he would have gotten this far if I had not left the way I had.
“No, you’re not completely right about that one,” Blair said from behind me while I heard hooves clatter. “That is actually on page three, the fiftieth paragraph down, and repeated in the index in the back, subsection five, article three.”
“Seems about right. I would have known that if I hadn’t touched my copy in five years ago,” I said, all the pent-up anger and irritation leaning on those last three words.
She laughed. “I have a spare copy if you want it.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” I said. “That is going into the bonfire too.”
I heard a stifled choke coming from her. “Sweetheart? When did you suddenly turn into a Southern gentleman?”
“Never been one,” I told her, looking over my shoulder, and my eyes dropped to her feet. “At least you found a pair of serviceable boots.”
She twisted her ankle. “Oh, yeah, a very kind lady named Connie lent me her pair.”
“Good for you,” I replied, turning the horse around and leading him into the stall. “Are you alright? You practically ran out of the kitchen like you were going to vomit, or have a heart attack, or?—”
“I needed some air,” I said. “It was getting a bit too much like summer in Malibu in there.”
“Hm,” she said. “I prefer Santa Monica. Malibu is more like a sorority's winter home.”
I faced the wall and clenched my fists tightly. I was going to stalk out the door, or I was going to punch something; one of the two… or even both. Turning, I put a book on the wall shelf behind me and crossed my arms. “Didn’t you say you were in one of those? ”
“I was,” she said while still brushing the horse. “Doesn’t mean I took off to get bikini waxes and hair dyes every moment I could. While they were out partying and drinking and having ménage à trois with some drunk Saudi prince, I stayed in my room, studying. I didn’t get two degrees and a master’s by throwing back some Sex on the Beaches all night.”
“Could have fooled me,” I said.
She turned. “Look, Warrick and Mr. Portman’s dealings have been going on long before you came along and jammed a wrench in them.”
My stomach turned sour. “Why would you say that?”
“I know the history of this ranch,” she remarked. “How, fifteen years ago, it was in shambles before Warrick tried to revive it by taking out a loan on the ranch. He was given ten years to pay it back, and he did it in six. After that, he sought out sustainable ways to keep the ranch running, and he met Rhys Channing, who, in turn, connected him to the big leagues. You know, the old ‘friend of a friend of a friend’ stuff.”
“I don’t like what you’re doing here,” I told her. “I couldn’t care less if you were the President of the United States and you walked in here with such a one-sided deal; I’d treat you the same way. Was it unrealistic to expect a man of your boss’s caliber to be ethical?”
She turned and shifted her weight to one leg. “Are you sure that is all this is about? I know you don’t like me or what I am doing here, but objectively, this is none of your business. See, I think I represent something in your life that you resent. Do I look like a woman who turned you down, or is it the money I come from? Perhaps both?”
“I told you,” I said, keeping my temper in check. “I hate your deal, not you. ”
Miss Sorority rolled her eyes, and her tone was scathing. “Stop the bullshit. You hate that I came up here because I represent someone or something you despise.”
I snapped.
“You’re damn right,” I snarled. “I hate how you people on the higher-level use people like pawns, and when you’re done with them, kick them to the curb, not caring how hard they had worked or how long they did so to get to where they were.”
She tilted her head up. “There it is. There is the real you.”
I had her up against the wall in seconds, both elbows caging her in so she had no option but to look me in the eyes. “The real me is pissed that you’re here.”
A gleam was in her eyes. “Because I’m a woman? Are you intimidated by that?”
“Fuck no,” I replied. “I wouldn’t care if you were a three-eyed alien with purple skin. You’re here to screw Warrick over just as I got screwed over a week ago.”
“So, I’m an avatar for your grievance,” she said, with a thin brow arched. “Don’t you think that it’s a bit unfair? I don’t know who shafted you, but it wasn’t me.”
My eyes narrowed. “Swear to me you won’t abuse Warrick’s trust and desperation?”
“You have my word,” Miss Perfect said. “Now, will you stop looking at me as if I am going to poison the well and drop Lassie in it?”
I pushed away from her and grunted. “I still have my eye on you. If you slip up, you’re out of here.”
“Noted,” she said dryly.
Returning to the ranch, I decided to find Warrick and speak with him to get the goddamn elephant out of the room. It wouldn’t clear the air entirely, but it would do away with some tension. I still couldn’t understand how he’d accepted me back home so easily after all the shit I’d done.
I found him in his office just as his girl was exiting. She smiled shyly at me and jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Just delivered some coffee. You know, soothe the beast, kind of thing.”
“Been there,” I replied, stepping through the office door.
Warrick was hunched over his desk, a pile of files before him, and I hesitated to interrupt him, but I was already inside, and there was no sense in turning back. “Warrick, you got a minute?”
He looked up, shifted his work to the side, and reached for his coffee. “Yeah, I got a couple. I needed to speak with you, too.”
I sat in the chair across from him, took a breath, and… not a word came from my mouth. It was not that I didn’t know what to say; I just had too much to say. Warrick sat back and cocked his head at me.
“What happened after I left?” I asked.
He placed the cup down and fingered the lid. “Mom cried. Dad shut himself off, and I didn’t know what to do. I mean, it was the night before Thanksgiving, Dallas. We’d prepared for it for weeks and were ready to celebrate as a family, only to find out you were gone.”
I gritted my teeth. “I— I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Warrick pushed the cup aside and scrubbed both hands over his face. “We were all over the place for a long time, Dallas. We didn’t know what to do or how to track you down. Mom was scared you’d end up dead in a ditch, but Dad knew you were street-smart enough to get to where you were going.”
“And you?” I asked.
“I slept in your bed for three months straight,” Warrick replied.
I slumped over and covered my mouth with my hand. I stared at the wooden swirls of his desk until I could draw them from memory.
Guess we’re getting into the hard part of the conversation I never wanted to have.
Pulling back, I said, “I did survive, but it was shit. I overestimated how easy it would be to get to Cali and succeed there. It took me half a year of bouncing through halfway houses and homeless shelters, finishing my diploma at eighteen.”
“Went to college, I assume?”
“After working at night, yeah,” I replied.
Warrick’s jaw worked for a moment before he got up, crossed the room to take a book from his shelf, and removed something from it. When he came back, he slid the paper to me, and my stomach dropped to my scrotum. It was the note I’d left on my dresser before I’d left; it was weather-stained and yellowed with age, but was intact.
I didn’t need to read it— I remembered every word— but I read it anyway.
Dear Mom and Dad,
I am sorry, but there is no other way. I have to leave. I don’t think I belong here; I know I don’t belong here. I’m going to Colorado, please don’t follow me. I’ll be alright.
Dallas
“Except you didn’t go to Colorado. You went to Cali,” Warrick said. “Dad went to Colorado to look for you; he searched shelters and halfway houses, but to no avail. ”
“I was there for a week before I moved on,” I said.
“He looked every weekend for three months,” Warrick said. “Mom cried every night, and the townspeople who knew you were shocked that you had upped and left. Even Jessi MacKormac was so happy you were taking her to prom.”
My gut roiled again.
I’d sent Jessi a letter from Cali, but she had not written back. “Is she still around here?”
“No, she and her family moved to Bozeman years ago,” Warrick replied. “When you left, she came here wondering what had happened. We didn’t know what to tell her.”
Another person my selfishness had hurt.
“It wasn’t until we got the first card from you that we began to stop worrying,” Warrick sat back in his chair, his fingers drumming slowly on the desk. “As the years went by, we cherished those cards, knowing it was hard for you to say what you wanted to say.”
My gaze turned to the window on the side. “It still doesn’t change the fact that I’d harmed a lot of people.”
“Would you have stayed otherwise?” Warrick asked pointedly. “Remember, I left too.”
“…No,” I said, raking a hand through my hair. “And if it would have, I would have gotten uglier. I think a part of me understood that and decided to rip the band-aid off. But then—” I swallowed. “You’d gotten hurt, and I didn’t even have the balls to come back to help you.”
His brows lifted. “You followed my career?”
“It was the only goddamned thing keeping me sane,” I admitted. “Knowing you’d made it, knowing you’d left this town and gotten to see some of the world.”
“Damned near seen every corner of it,” Warrick replied. “Being a bull rider, you get around. ”
“But you came back,” I replied. “Why?”
“Probably the same reason you did,” he replied, and when my lips flattened— a clear indicator that I didn’t want to talk about it— he chuckled.
“I couldn’t, in good faith, let the ranch splinter apart,” Warrick said, the wheels of his chair screeching against the tile as he scooted forward. “Dad was heartbroken that what Grandpa had worked his whole life to put together would fade into nothing. It took a while, but I managed to pull the ranch from the brink, and now we’re on the up and up.”
My mouth opened— but Warrick stopped me.
“I know, I know you’re all twisted up in knots about this deal with Portman Corp, but believe me, he won’t screw me over,” he said. “We have to get this plant up and running, and because of that?—”
“Mr. Donovan, I just talked to—” Blair strode in but jerked to a stop when she saw me and Warrick. “Oh, I am sorry.”
I scowled. “What happened to knocking?”
“I did,” she said in that calm voice that did nothing but infuriate me. “Thrice.”
Were we in the eighteen century? Who used the word thrice ?
She came forward and set a file on his desk. “Mr. Portman agreed to your terms, but only this time, it’s no longer four years; it’s now eight. That is the best I could do.”
I looked to Warrick. “Sounds good to me. By then, you should be able to maximize the investment and get more shareholders in.”
Warrick reached for the folder and took it but didn't open it or look it over. “I’m glad you’re here, Miss Cullen, because I need to tell you both something.”
I didn’t like that tone .
Sighing, Warrick said, “Zoe and I are heading to Washington DC for the FBI for a round of talks to finally set this nightmare with Drayton Corp to bed. In my absence, Dallas, I need you to step in and oversee the construction of the processing plant, talk with the mayor about the town’s Christmas setup, the Secret Santa setup, and some more odd jobs….”
Fuck. I had not expected that.
“And until I come back,” he said, “Miss Cullen, please cooperate with him as he is the point person on this. See him as you’d see me—” his eyes shifted to mine and then hers. “— and I want to come back to see both of you alive and kicking and not half the town razed to shreds.”
I couldn’t take this. “Warrick?—”
“Sir—” she said.
“No Warrick, no Sir, it’s done,” my brother said sternly. “And I expect you to both be grown-ups about it. Don’t let me down now. Dallas, I need you to drive her to the sight tomorrow to get the ball rolling. Is that clear?”
I couldn’t tell him no, not with this, even though I’d prefer to hike up to Eagle’s Point bootless, blindfolded and backward. Hell, I’d prefer to muck out the stables with a gardening shovel and my toothbrush before I would like to be within five feet of Miss Moneybags.
My teeth ground in the back of my head, but the words that came out of my mouth were... “Consider it done.”