Chapter 5
Weston
Taking a long draw of my coffee, I skip breakfast at my parents’ house again.
I texted my mom last night to let her know I was going to work early, but in reality I'm not ready to tell people who’s here.
I'm not even sure if I've come to terms with it, seeing her here, on this ranch, again. They’ll all know by the end of the day, someone will see her, and it’ll spread like wildfire, but for now it’s my secret.
Coffee isn’t enough this morning, I need something stronger.
I tried to convince myself that I’d be fine, but no matter how many scenarios I went through, there wasn’t a single one where this wouldn’t be the hardest three months of my life.
I’ve missed her every second of every day she has been gone, and now that she’s here, just out of my grasp, it’s going to feel like constant torment.
When I open the door to the office, I stop dead in my tracks.
Willow sits at my desk going through pages of paperwork.
She looks lost in her own little world, so I stay back and just watch her.
Her brow furrows as she looks between two pieces of paper, and I'm suddenly glad it’s not just me that this paperwork frustrates the shit out of.
It’s almost bizarre seeing her in business attire here on the ranch, the family and ranch hands always wear clothes made for getting dirty.
In fact, I don’t think I’ve even seen my mom in a dress.
At this point I think that she was born in blue jeans.
It’s hard to have objections when the pink blouse gives me a perfect view of just a hint of cleavage.
And now I feel like a complete creep gawking at my ex-girlfriend's turned business associate’s tits. God, I have to get a grip.
Before I can humiliate myself, I tap my knuckles against the door frame, letting her know I'm here. She startles and the paper in her hand goes flying. I try and fail miserably to choke back the laugh. The glare she shoots me does no good to stop the laughter because she looks too damn cute when she’s mad, always has.
I hold my hands up in front of me, indicating I mean no harm. “Good morning. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Sure you didn’t. I was just trying to get a head start on the back office work.
My original plan was to knock this out before starting the work on the cabins but I’m realizing it’ll be better to work in sync so we stay on schedule.
” She tidies up a stack of papers, holding them in her hand and tapping them against the desk to straighten them up.
“Do you have a few minutes to touch base before I make some calls?” She tucks a piece of her perfectly curled hair behind her ear and I find myself getting lost in her beauty again.
She clears her throat, a reminder that she asked me a question and I realize I need to answer her.
“Right, sorry, I’ve only had one coffee today, and it clearly didn’t do its job,” I offer lamely as an explanation for zoning out.
“I have some free time this morning to help with whatever you need.” My words come out rushed and even I can hear how idiodic I sound.
She raises her eyebrows and studies me carefully with those keen green eyes. I can practically hear her thinking about how fucking strange I’m behaving this morning. Trust me, if there were a manual for ‘How to be around your ex who you secretly still love,’ I’d be the first to buy it.
“Okay, first on the agenda, are there any contractors who you are against working with?” she asks as she reaches around to her bag and pulls out her laptop.
“No, I haven't really had to deal with any. I’ve heard John Beckman has been a little hard on the booze lately, so maybe not him.”
“Glad to see the gossip mill is still turning out riveting information,” she deadpans as she types a few things on her computer and I look around the room, not sure what I should do. “You can take a seat. This will take a bit.”
The authority in her tone has me sitting down and my arousal perking up.
“Yes, ma’am.” Gone is the meek girl I said goodbye to, this version of Willow in front of me isn’t afraid to take charge and I can’t say I’m hating it.
My fingers tap nervously against the arms of my chair as I wait for further instruction.
“Okay, so things I need you to have to me by the end of the week are an email containing the following: what your goals and inspiration are for these cabins, and if you have any pictures that would be helpful.” She types on her computer again before she looks back up at me.
“Oh, and are you planning on hiring a property manager or will you be handling that?”
It is in this exact moment that I am in over my head.
I hadn’t even thought about a property manager, but I guess you would need someone to keep on top of bookings and questions.
My confidence wavers as I realize how naive I was.
I don’t want to admit that I’m in over my head and haven’t considered all the details.
I did a lot of research on the process of getting started, not so much on the day to day.
When my eyes rise to meet hers, I feel a rush of embarrassment.
“I will talk to the team and get back to you.” I say it like this whole thing has been a team effort, but really, I thought it was a good idea, ran it past them and started looking into it.
I don’t regret the idea, I do think this is a good plan and would be really beneficial for the ranch and our family, I just wish I had the ability to form a complete thought before jumping ship.
“Okay, I am going to get a list of potential contractors and start writing up a business plan. I can make some spreadsheets to keep all the information, costs, and plans in one place. No one should have to deal with those damn filing cabinets ever again.”
Her phone starts ringing on the desk, and on it I can see a picture of her with a man. He looks like he’s wearing a dress shirt, he doesn't have a single hair out of place. Their smiles look practiced and almost robotic. I’ve seen a real smile from Willow, and that ain’t it.
“Oh, sorry. Do you mind if I take this?” She looks up, her cheeks stained a pretty shade of pink. Not sure why she feels embarrassed.
“Not at all. Do you want me to step out?” I go to stand, but she shakes her head.
“I’ll go. It should only be a minute.” She quickly walks away, shutting the door as I sit here and try to mind my own business. For a whopping three seconds. I almost gave in at two, but I know I’m stronger than that.
I slowly turn the knob on the door, cracking it a little to try and hear.
“Well now isn’t a good time, I’m meeting with my client.” She paces around the space outside the door. “Yeah, I know I said I wanted you to call but-”
I see every bit of light drain out of her and it’s right then that I decide I hate the man who put a ring on her finger. Not because he took her off the market, but because she doesn’t shine when she’s with him. She deserves that.
Her brows knit in together, and she ends the call and starts walking back, shoulders slumped and gloomy.
I haul ass back to my chair before she can catch me and start thinking of ways I can turn this day around for her. If that fuckface won’t put a smile on her face, I will.